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The Protege

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“Do you like shedding tears for me baby?” he asks, moving his hips, working himself deeper, each stroke of his cock making my body sink down into the sofa.

“Yes, daddy,” I murmur, rubbing my cheek against the cushion beneath my cheek.

“Do you like feeling totally at my mercy?”

He knows I do, and I turn my head, letting him see my smile through the tangles of my hair.

“Do you like being my slutty little girl?”

I arch my back and push back tightly against him, feeling the length of him inside me. “Best of all, daddy.”

He’s tender now, the belt falling away as he holds me with both hands around my waist, thrusting with firm, deliberate, strokes. The sensations are making my clit tingle and I reach between my legs to touch myself.

“Beautiful girl,” Laszlo says, his voice tight. “Melt for me again and I am going to burst.”

And I will, for him, because he makes me believe anything is possible. His fingers scratch over the raised marks on my ass as I rub tight circles on my clit, the glow deep inside me growing.

“Laszlo, please,” I moan, needing more, and he fucks my ass faster, the rhythm of his cock lighting up my insides. My orgasm is fast approaching and he must feel it, and he murmurs words of encouragement under his breath. That’s it. Come for daddy. Good girl. He’s so generous with his affection and it makes me cry out with happiness and release as I come.

I hear the groan of his release, feel his rhythm stutter as he presses deeply into me.

We stumble to the shower and clean up, the hot water blasting our skin. I feel heady and I’m rushing high and he holds me tight in his soapy arms.

Later when we’re clean and drying and back on the bed we’re both still smiling. I rub my forefinger over his lower lip. “I’ve always loved your teeth.”

He smiles, amused. “My teeth?”

“Yes. Those pointy canines of yours. You’re like some sort of good-natured vampire or something.”

Laszlo nuzzles my neck, growling and nipping me with his teeth. “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

I giggle, shifting myself closer in his arms and running my fingers over his jaw, his cheeks, through this hair. I can’t seem to get close enough to him. I think it must be that place he puts me into, subspace, he called it, and I hold him back, hard. I feel so close to him in my mind that I need his body even more as I start to come out of it. I think that’s how he feels, too.

“Have you enjoyed the tour?” I ask when I’m able to unclasp him a little.

His face splits into a grin. “God, I have. So much. It’s been a challenge but the audiences in Asia are so much more receptive to experimentation than they are in the London. There’s opportunity here for more. I’d bring the orchestra back in a heartbeat. In fact, I have a feeling we’re going to be invited back before we even leave the country.” He gives me a mysterious look but won’t say anymore. “What about you? Have you enjoyed the tour?”

I think back over the doubt and nerves, the hot stage lights and the riotous applause. And Laszlo. “I have. In all the many and varied ways. So much has happened for me in these past few weeks that it’s hard to tease it all apart, but I can say it’s been wonderful, discovering all these things with you.” I take a deep breath. “I’m so happy you’re my dom. My lover.”

He looks at me for a long time, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. It’s there, hovering at the edges of our cozy little nest. I love you. I feel it so keenly and I want to speak it out loud. I’ll continue to fight, to reach for the things that will make me happy. But for now I hold back the words. It’s not that I’m afraid, but I’m learning patience. The moment will come when I will tell Laszlo how deeply I love him, and he will say it back. There’s no need to rush.

“I’m so happy too, baby. With all my heart.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Laszlo

Now

After the performance that night the owner of the concert hall greets me backstage, a man in his early forties called Mr. Niran Anumak. We shake hands and he takes me up to his office, which looks over the sparkling lights of Bangkok.

“Do you like the view, Mr. Valmary?” he asks me, hands clasped behind his back as he smiles out at the vista of skyscrapers lining the Chao Phraya River. The roads are filled with moving cars and scooters and pedestrians line the sidewalks of the night markets and restaurant precincts. Bangkok is an intensity of light and color, especially after dusk.


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