Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
She’d hated letting him down. It was one of her flaws, one that had been pointed out to her during her Enclave training—this inability to get out of her own head and give herself completely and without reservation. She understood that self-consciousness had no place in a slave’s repertoire but, despite her sincere desire, she had yet to fully get there.
She forgot about all that as Master Damon cupped her cunt and rubbed against her labia, which were already slick with her juices. She couldn’t stop the moan of raw pleasure at his masterful touch.
Then his hand slid away, now stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her cunt throbbed with the loss of his touch. She pressed her lips together to keep from begging for its return.
The fingers of the hand cupping her breast found her nipple. It instantly stiffened to a hard point as he rolled and teased it. He squeezed and twisted, the pressure mounting until pleasure shifted to pain, the sensations blending and fusing into one.
Then his hand was on her sex again, fingers flicking, stroking, teasing. Ellen heard a husky, sultry sound it took her a moment to realize was her own voice. Unable to help herself, she ground herself against his hand, desperate for the promised release.
All at once, the hand was gone again from between her legs, though his fingers were still tight on her nipple. She felt his warm breath on her cheek as he murmured, “You’re such a dirty little girl, aren’t you, Ellen? You’re ready to come with just a few strokes of your Master’s hand.”
“Yes, Sir,” she agreed throatily. After the nearly constant stimulation of the past two days, she desperately wanted—needed—to come.
“Beg me,” he ordered, sending a jolt of submissive excitement through her core.
“Please, Sir. Touch me again. Make me come,” she begged. “Please.”
Oh god. Don’t let this be some sadistic ploy where he says no again. I’ll die if he does that.
To her trembling relief, he brought his hand again between her legs. She moaned with feral need as his fingers danced around and over her swollen, throbbing clit. She was dimly aware of the pressure still on her nipple but it only added to her masochistic pleasure.
He let her nipple go and she felt his warm palm against her chest. Then it slid upward, his fingers curling around her throat. He held her tight against him as he continued to play with her cunt, pinning her in place with his hand on her throat.
“Do it,” he commanded, his voice a dominant purr in her ear. “Give it to me. Now.”
“Oh, god,” she cried, the words wrenched from her lips as she crested a powerful climax and hurtled forward into it. She jerked and thrashed against him as she came hard—harder than she could ever remember coming.
But instead of his hand falling away, it continued to stroke and tease her. Hard fingers moved inside her while his palm ground against her throbbing, overly sensitized clit. His touch was rough and soft at the same time, like the flick of a cat’s tongue.
She wanted to push his hands away—to tell him to stop, it was too much. She bit her lower lip hard to keep from doing that. He had the right to touch her in any way he liked. Period.
Perhaps it was that thrilling realization that someone, finally, was taking the control of her that she’d only dreamed of until now. Not because he was training her, but because he owned her. Or perhaps it was because of his skilled fingers now gently but insistently probing her sex, his other hand still in a primal grip at her throat.
Whatever the reason, a second climax, as powerful as the first, roiled inside her. Another guttural cry of raw lust came from deep within her as she tumbled head over feet into a powerful orgasm that left her trembling and breathless.
Finally, his hands fell away, strong arms now wrapping around her in a secure, warm embrace. He held her until the trembling stopped and her heart slowed its frantic, booming pace.
She wanted to thank him with words and kisses, to worship his gorgeous cock, to laugh out loud from sheer joy. But she found herself too spent to move or even form a coherent thought. Instead, she floated on a cloud of deep, satiated contentment until sleep swallowed her like a pond gulping a pebble.
Chapter 9
Damon jolted awake, heart pounding. Instinctively, he reached for his weapon but found his arm was pinned down by something heavy and warm.
As his eyes adjusted to the dark and his senses slowly sharpened, he heard the sound of what must have awakened him. He snorted with relief and chagrin, the palpitations in his chest gradually subsiding. There had been no gunfire, no reek of sulfur and blood, no anguished cries. It was just the crackling logs of the dying fire in the other room.