Slave Girl

Slowly, he stroked her knees then glided down, going to her pussy but not touching her. He stroked over her fine hairs before pulling back.

He wasn’t going to fuck her this morning. He was going to show her something else.

Kissing her knee, he followed the path between her thighs, hovering over her pussy.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going to taste you.”

“Men don’t do that.”

“No, men like my father don’t do that, but I’m not my father. You’re going to have to trust me. Do you?”

She nodded her head.

“Good, because your pussy looks really nice and sweet and I want a taste. Do you have a problem with me trying you?”

She shook her head.

“Relax, Elenore. You’re going to enjoy this.”

Using the tips of his fingers, he opened the lips of her sex. Sliding his tongue between her slit, he tasted her for the first time. She was way too tense and he intended to make her relax, to trust him.

Pressing his face against her pussy, he moved his hands to cup her ass, holding her against his face, and he ate her pussy. Licking, sucking, biting, just enough to cause her immense pleasure.

He didn’t want her worrying about a strike or any kind of pain while she was in his bed. This wasn’t about hurting her, but about filling her with joy, basking in it. Sex could be enjoyable and that was all he wanted her to feel and to know.

Sliding his tongue down to her untouched entrance, he circled her and pulled back, sucking her clit into his mouth. She moaned his name, the sound echoing around the room.

His cock was already hard as rock. It would be so easy for him to slide between her spread thighs, fuck her hard, and take her like he’d never taken anyone else before, but he took his time, relishing her cries, the pleasure he drew from her body.

He would have to take care of himself later. Her first time wasn’t going to be a quick morning fuck.

Circling her clit, he devoted plenty of time and attention to the nub, working her pussy until she came, and she did so with a cry, thrusting her pelvis up against his face. She tasted amazing and he rocked out her orgasm, waiting for each tiny ripple and explosion.

He’d given women plenty of orgasms, but none of them had ever come close to being this open, this willing, and for that, he was never going to forget this one.

Kissing her clit, he smiled at her.

“That wasn’t sex,” she said.

“No, that was an orgasm.” He kissed her lips. “And I’m willing to give you them every single time you want one.” Staring down at her flushed face, he laughed. She looked completely exhausted. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you enjoy this and then I’ll make us both some breakfast.”

Leaving her on the bed, he went into the shower. He turned the water to freezing and stepped beneath the waves. After a few short minutes, nothing happened. Her taste was still on his tongue, and he ached for her in the most delicious of ways. Wrapping his fingers around his dick, he began to work the length, moving up and down, drawing himself closer to orgasm. He thought about her pretty cunt. How open it would be and how much he wanted to claim her virginity for his own, but he didn’t want to let her go.

Elenore didn’t know that one of the choices he wanted to give her was to belong to him in every single way. To be his wife, the mother of his children. If she agreed, it meant she would never really know true freedom. She’d be bound to this life, to him. To the son of the man who took her, who made her life a misery, and part of him was afraid her answer would be to run as far as she could get from him.

****

After breakfast, like every single morning, Raphael had to leave. Elenore hated seeing him going, but today, she wondered why he hadn’t slept with her, hadn’t taken her virginity. She knew what sex was. His father had made sure she watched so she knew what was coming to her. What he expected from her.

None of it had ever looked fun. The women she’d been forced to watch hadn’t been prepared. When he fucked them, they’d always looked in pain.

Don’t think about it, Elenore.

She smiled. She no longer thought of herself as Useless. She was Elenore.

Going to the fridge, she did have every intention of making a meal for Raphael when he came home, but with the worry of anyone breaking into his home, she closed the fridge, stepped back as if it was cursed, and moved to the sofa.

He hadn’t fucked her. Raphael had put his tongue between her legs.