Page 159 of The Enslaved Duet
But I was too far into subspace to think of the err of my ways, to reprimand or shame myself for the wants that had been too long woven into the fabric of my character to unstitch and respool.
So by the time Alexander stepped away from the throbbing ache in my back, I was exactly how we both wanted me to be.
Empty, but alive with purpose for one single thing.
The will of my Master.
“This first time, I won’t hold back,” he promised over the clank of a belt buckle falling open and the sensual rasp of a zipper being teased apart. “But you’ll take everything I have to give like a good little sub, won’t you,bella?”
Then the hot, hard tip of his cock brushed across my lips, painting them in the brine of the cum beaded there. I moaned from deep in my clenching gut as my tongue traced the taste of him over my mouth. He halted my efforts with hard hands woven into my hair, pinning my face at exactly the distance and angle he needed to use me best.
“Open your mouth and keep it open. I want to use you until you’re drooling and choking all over my cock, and then I want you to gag for it.”
A shiver juddered through my torso as my lips fell open. My hot, panting breath fanned over his length, and I wished acutely that I wasn’t blindfolded so I could see the way the thick veins in his cock pulsed for me.
Instead, I felt them rub over my tongue as he used his hands in my hair to leverage me onto his cock until it was wedged at the back of my throat. I swallowed around him, humming the secret lyrics of my pleasure as I tended to his dick, as he sawed it over my lips the way a violinist controlled his bow. The sounds we made together like that were obscene; the wet suck of my lips against his skin, the hot whorl of my breath churning over his length each time he pulled out of my throat, and the faint vibration of my constant, babbling moans and groans. We filled the empty, cavernous room with the music of his Domination and my submission, and I’d never heard a more satisfying symphony.
Finally, he pried my tightly drawn lips off his dick with a loudpop,and my subsequent groan of disapproval.
“Did you miss your Master’s cock in your throat?” he asked me coldly.
I squirmed on my knees, the cold studio air against the arousal sliding down my thighs from my overheated pussy. His meanness aroused me the way no tenderness ever could. It amplified him until he seemed giant with power, Herculean with strength.
“Yes, Master,” I said, all breath and wet, smacking lips. “I don’t know what I did without it.”
A small part of my brain realized how shameful my actions were; I was a woman scorned. Where was my righteous wrath and fury? Where was my backbone?
It was ramrod straight in the perfect posture of a submissive.
It wasn’t just Alexander using me at that moment to wring out his own pleasure. It was about me using him formy own. I needed the cruelty and the objectification, maybe even more than he needed to dole it out.
This was about him proving to me, in his own way, in our secret language of flesh and fetish, that he could still fill all the cracks in my heart with gold. Give purpose to my masochism and a swift death by climax to my worries and my doubts.
This was a Master taking care of his slave in the most elemental way he knew how.
Alexander moved one hand from my hair, pushing the blindfold off my face as he did so, and then over my tear-streaked cheek to slide two fingers into my mouth.
I sucked feverishly at them, my eyes nearly rolling back into my head at the pleasure of having the taste of his skin on my tongue again. When I recovered, I looked up at him, hungrily devouring the sight of him looming over me like a lord demanding reparation from his vassal. The power dynamic made saliva pool at the sides of my mouth and wet leak from my swollen sex like an overturned jar of honey.
“You are mine,” he swore solemnly as he pulled his fingers out of my mouth and wrapped them around the root of his long cock. I kept my eyes tipped to his as he slowly fed it to me, inch by steel inch until I couldn’t breathe around the fullness of him buried to the balls in my throat. “You are mine in every conceivable way. Mine to use.” He pulled out to the tip of his head and then thrust back into the warm cavern so hard I choked around him. “Mine to worship.” Another thrust. “Mine to own.”
Spit dripped from my lips and splashed against my furled breasts.
I was so close to coming, I gyrated against the air, looking for even a mild current to swirl through the room and break open the cap on my bottled desire.
Sensing my desperation, Alexander stepped forward so that the smooth leather of his loafer was pressed tight to my drenched sex.
“Fuck yourself hard. Show me how wanton you are just for me.” His strong voice was like the press of a hand around my throat.
I watched his smoking grey eyes as I began to hump against his shoe to the time of his thrusts into my mouth. The smell of our sex perfumed the air like a drug I couldn’t help dragging deep into my lungs. I was light-headed, intoxicated by the fierce desire stamped across his face, the way his soul blazed so brightly from his usually opaque pewter-toned eyes.
There was no one else in the world for either of us but each other.
The thought cut through the ribbon of sense that tied me together so that every inch of me unravelled and unfurled as I orgasmed for him. Alexander watched as I screamed around his cock so deep in my throat, as I ground my clit into the leather, seeking more friction against the smooth swell, and then with triumph in his eyes he tipped his head back and punched a shout at the ceiling loud enough to echo through the room as he came.
And came.
He drowned my mouth in the hot, salty liquid, and I gulped him down greedily, an alcoholic after years of abstemiousness pouring herself a drink.
