Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
My legs sag open wider at her approach. She gives an extra sway to her ass, sending her breasts jiggling as she reaches me and goes up on her knees, running her hands up from my knees to my upper thighs.
“I want to please my Master. I want to suck your cock and taste your cum down my throat.”
My jaw hardens. My entire body flexes towards her. “Then please me.”
And finally, finally, she grabs the base of my cock in one hand and then sinks her mouth on me again. I barely hold back my groan of relief.
But she’s not holding back. Not anymore. She moans around me, the vibrations of her throat suctioned around my cock unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I’ve fucking died. That’s all I can think. I’ve fucking died and this is heaven, the woman I’ve always—
I cut the thought short. No more fucking thinking. Just take it for what it fucking is. Great head. I’ve got a slave who’s great at giving head. Enjoy it. I’ll sleep good tonight. That’s all this is.
But then she reaches down, and the hand not at the base of my cock starts playing with my balls. My stomach heaves, I’m breathing so hard. She’s driving me so fucking crazy.
I keep glancing down even though I tell myself not to. But the image of her on her knees is mesmerizing, her black hair cascading around her as she works and worships my cock so diligently.
I should hold out longer. Make her really work for it.
But then she looks up at me again. And she’s still the sassy siren of a few minutes earlier who crawled towards me so confidently. But I also see a vulnerability there. Like she’s wondering if she’s doing it right. She looks like...she looks like Daphne.
She is the goddess who first woke me up to her womanhood when I saw her at the Ubeli’s ball after her 18th birthday, who walked towards me on the beach on a day that is seared into my brain forever, like a siren in scraps of red fabric that I wanted to tear from her body. It all but killed me to act like a gentleman that day and for the months afterwards. She’s the woman I spent hours talking late into the evening with, the person who I thought understood me better than anyone else.
I can’t help reaching down a hand to cup her face. She closes her eyes and sinks against my hand even as she continues sucking me in and out, more vigorously than ever, like she wants me closer, deeper, more, her moans more frantic—
And I fucking lose it. I tap the side of her head but she doesn’t move and I barely get the words out, “I’m cumming,” but still she doesn’t move away and then it’s too late. I lose it and my hand tangles in her hair as my cum pumps out of me and paints the inside of her throat.
She swallows and sucks and swallows some more, her throat a vise around my cock, pulling even more cum out of me, and then more still.
I’ve never felt more empty or more complete and for a second, everything in the world is as it should be.
One breath. Two.
But then the real world comes buzzing back to life. Her warm mouth slips off of me. The cold intrudes. It’s back to reality. And I’ve let her see too much.
She is who she is. The woman who betrayed me.
Or...did she? What if it was all a misunderstanding?
Says the guy who just got his brain sucked out through his dick.
I stand up abruptly and button my pants. “Good night, Daphne. You’ve earned your seven patents.” And then I turn and go, not looking back once. Because I’m not sure I could bear seeing the hurt on her face.
Fourteen
Present Day
Logan
I sit in my study and try to focus on the academic journal I’m reading about nerve regeneration research but I’ve read the same fucking line at least ten times.
I slap the paper down on the floor beside my chair and stand, pacing in front of the fire. Having her under my roof again… I run my hands through my hair and imagine her up in her bed.
Her lithe little body curled up around her pillow. I remember the endless nights I watched her sleep after she caught cold from running headlong into the labyrinth.
Even then she was trying to escape you.
I laugh humorlessly and walk to the liquor cabinet, pour a couple fingers of whiskey, and down it. The fire bites at my throat but I’m already pouring another.
But I thought I could train her, make her mine. I thought it meant something that she reached for me in her feverish dreams...but she was playing me even then. Planning her next escape from the second the first failed.