Enamoured (The Enslaved Duet 2)

The island was low enough that my body was at a ninety-degree angle, giving him complete access to my pussy and ass. Access he took advantage of by sweeping my wetness back and forth over my groin until I was smeared in my own desire, the heady scent of arousal heavy in the air.

I panted, trying to hump my hips harder into his passing palm but unable to because of the plastic wrap gluing me into place.

“Be still,” he demanded with a hard slap to each ass cheek. “I won’t tell you again. Keep this beautiful arse still, or I won’t do as I planned and feast on it until you come over and over again on my tongue.”

I pressed my cheek even tighter to the marble as I groaned at the thought, needing the anchor of the cold stone to keep me from floating too quickly into subspace.

I wanted to be present when Alexander fucked me. I wanted to feel the victory of our union like two gladiators celebrating over their spoils.

Then he was kneeling behind me, and something viscous and sweet smelling was being poured down the crease of my ass, sliding sensuously over my folds. Before it could drop off my swollen clit, Xan caught the stream with his tongue, licking, lapping and sucking at every fold and swell of my cunt like a starving man slurping at fruit.

“I can’t be sure which tastes better,” he said into my slick sex. “The honey or your sweet juices on my tongue.”

He went back to feasting, eating away at my pussy and then making his way up to the crinkled apex of my ass, swirling it with his tongue until I was melted butter spilled across the countertop.

“I have it,” he declared after a long pull at my clit with his closed lips, a pull that made my entire body shudder. “It’s the taste of your beautiful, drenched cunt.”

A stream of useless words spilled from my mouth, yes, and oh God, and grazie e Dio. Alexander seemed fueled by them, working hard for every whimper and groan, humming against my flesh when I spoke in Italian because he knew just what it meant.

I was losing myself to him, to this. Just us together like a closed loop of energy.

He built me up particle by particle as if constructing a castle out of sand. I was all peaks and sharp corners, echoes in cavernous, empty rooms. He built me masterfully, an architect of lust, an engineer of desire so well versed in the physics of sexuality each movement of my body felt like a natural extension, a necessary expansion.

He slicked me with my leaking sex, moved red lines over my skin with his rough fingers, and dug into me with his hard, square teeth until my entire body, the structure he had so beautifully comprised, trembled on the verge of collapse.

But that was the point of the entire exercise, not to create, but to detonate.

He didn’t let me come.

Not even when I begged into the marble, the stone slab as unyielding as my Master.

Instead, he ate his fill and then pulled back to rub the hot tip of his cock over my clit and drag it back over my pussy up to my ass where he tap, tap, tapped.

“I’m going to fuck each one of your pretty holes tonight, my beauty. I’m going to gorge myself on your flesh, drench my cock in your cum, and then wedge myself into this tight little ass with just your cum to ease the way. Would you like that, little mouse, for me to use you up until you are nothing but wet, quivering flesh for me to fuck into?”

I gasped like a fish out of water, my muscles unified as I strained to welcome the looming orgasm. I knew when it came, I would thrash from tip to tail just like that fish returned to the stream.

I thought I would die if he didn’t drown me in the pleasure of climax that very second.

“Yes, Master. I need your cock; I’m dying for it.”

“Oh,” he cooed, the one drawn-out syllable mocking and cruel. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

And then he was thrusting; his cock a blunt weapon forcing open the swollen channel of my sex without mercy. He ground into me hard, then pulled out so that just the head kissed my entrance and then tunneled back inside, his hands clamped like iron braces over my hips. I tried to brace against the counter, but I had no recourse tied down as I was.

I just had to lay there and take it.

The submission he had built in me with his big hands and dirty words coalesced into a castle made of sand, of every single particle of my being, harnessed and corralled into a thing of utter beauty.