Enthralled (The Enslaved Duet 1)

“Happily, you had no hand in giving me my eye colour,” I muttered darkly, hating that the smooth toe of his shoe felt deliciously cool against my heating sex, that the pressure made something in my belly unfurl like a bloom.

“Not the colour perhaps, but the demons that lurk there I now possess just as surely as I do this,” he said, stepping into his foot so that it pressed firmly but not painfully over my pubic bone.

I gasped as he fisted both hands in my hair and wrenched my gaze up to his. He pulled so tightly my eyes watered while his burned, smoking like banked coals with carefully supressed desire.

“I own you, little mouse,” he told me. “But you do not seem to understand how possession works, so let us make it your first lesson. I am feeling uncharacteristically benevolent, so I will give you a choice. You may accept me in your mouth, take all of me into your throat despite your struggles, and drink down every drop of your Master’s cum, or I can hold you down and beat your ass black and blue, then leave you here without a drop to eat or drink for two days. If the former, I will have the chef prepare you one of your favourite meals. Pasta alla Genovese, I believe?”

I hesitated as my mouth flooded with moisture at the thought of the rich, meaty pasta after days of bread and tepid water.

He capitalized on my weakness before I could fortify my mind against him. “And, my beauty, if you truly please me, I will even allow you a shower. I know how much you must long for one.”

My spine tumbled over like children’s building blocks as I slumped under the weight of his bribery.

I wanted a shower.

Cleanliness was next to godliness for Italians as it had been since Roman times, and I was desperate to rid my nose of my own stench.

It was even more tempting than the food.

I wanted to stay strong in the face of his crippling ownership, but I was too realistic not to realize that I was fighting a losing battle. The irrefutable fact was, this man already owned me. Money had exchanged hands, contracts had undoubtedly been signed, my own signature forged, and the deal was more than done.

I was his.

If I didn’t start accepting that, I’d lose my sanity to the cold, dark solitude of the cavernous cage.

“That’s my dolce topolina,” Alexander murmured almost sweetly even as he continued to grip my hair too tight. “Now, open that lush mouth.”

My head tipped back as he urged me with one hand while the other undid his trousers efficiently and pulled out his cock.

I was a virgin, but I had seen penises before in biology books and the smutty magazines the Made Men gave to Papa and even as bribes to my brother, Sebastian.

But I’d never seen or even conceived of something like what Alexander presented to me then.

It was more a weapon than an appendage.

Thicker by far than the circumference of my index finger and thumb with a head the colour and size of a ripe Italian plum, I couldn’t imagine taking it in my hand, let alone between my lips.

But something about the tapestry of veins pulsing down its length made my mouth water and made my tongue itch to trace them like drips from an ice-cream cone all the way down his shaft.

I shook my head dazedly, trying to shake the deviant desire from between my ears like some kind of earwig to the floor.

I did not want to find the weapon of my own destruction appealing.

Yet a small voice in the darkest recesses of my brain whispered to me that I did.

Alexander wrapped his big hand around his dick and pumped it tight and slow to the end so a pearl of precum crested the tip. With the hand on the back of my head, he brought me closer to draw the moisture over my parted lips like gloss.

Unbidden, my tongue shot out to trail the path and taste him.

Brine exploded on my taste buds, and my startled gaze shot up to his at the discovery.

His eyes blazed, so hot they turned the air to steam too thick to breath easily.

I panted.

“Yes,” he acknowledged in his cold British tones, the only hint of his arousal the slight deepening of his voice. “It’s good that you like the taste. It’s the only meal you’ll be getting with any kind of regularity until you learn your place. Now, clasp your hands behind your back, open wider, and take me inside.”

Tension gathered every single muscle in my body and bunched them into a tangled cord that he manipulated with every tug of his hand in my hair. My shoulders hunched and burned with stress as I opened my mouth to the breaking point and felt the broad head of his cock smooth over my tongue straight to the back of my throat.