Page 45 of Enslaved

He dropped to his knees; hands forcing my knees apart as the hot spear of his tongue delved between my thighs.

He fucked me with it, curled it back to lick my G-Spot, then grabbed me by the hips, hooking my legs over his shoulders so he could reach just the right angle to suck that spot of nerves. The chains rattled as I battled him. Fought the need to come and escape.

He won.

Soon, my hips fell forward, trying to help him go higher. I was on the verge of exploding for him when he stopped. Nuzzled the fine hairs covering my mound, then spoke against it. “So, fucking sweet, little dove. But not yet. Your punishment is learning to please your master; maybe then, you’ll earn the right tocome.”

He reared back, fingers sliding through me to find my clit. He touched it lightly. It quivered under his hand, needing him. He stroked it a few times, then dove three fingers in while his tongue sucked me.

“God!” I screamed, as he took me to the edge, then left me hanging.

He smirked, stood up, fiery eyes devouring the sweat and need coming off me. My eyes sought his, burned him with the hate of my gaze.

He was perfect. Utterly stunning in crisp gray trousers, Armani loafers, and a crisp white button-down shirt. Humiliation washed over me. Every button of his shirt was still done, the cufflinks gleamed at his elbows where his shirt was rolled. I was naked and chained like a dog, while he still oozed power and class. The only sign he was affected by what he was doing to me were the slashes of desire on his aristocratic cheekbones and the huge bulge between his legs.

“Like what you see, little one, eh?”

“Never,” I spat, “you’re ugly. Beautifully ugly. Perfectly ugly to me. I’d rather screw a piece of plastic floating in the ocean, than ever be with you again.”

“Careful, my dove. I might grant you that wish.” He just chuckled low in his throat as his sticky hands, covered with my need for him, reached up and unscrewed the light bulb from the ceiling.

He left me in darkness. Walked out, the thud of the door closing followed by the click of a lock.

I was powerfully outmatched.

The only thing I had was his sick desire for me. Maybe I could convince him I wanted this. I would pretend to fall in love with him; do anything he wanted. And when I could, I’d run. Run like hell and never look back.

---