Page 18 of The Enslaved Duet

I wanted a shower.

Cleanliness was next to godliness for Italians as it had been since Roman times, and I was desperate to rid my nose of my own stench.

It was even more tempting than the food.

I wanted to stay strong in the face of his crippling ownership, but I was too realistic not to realize that I was fighting a losing battle. The irrefutable fact was, this man already owned me. Money had exchanged hands, contracts had undoubtedly been signed, my own signature forged, and the deal was more than done.

I was his.

If I didn’t start accepting that, I’d lose my sanity to the cold, dark solitude of the cavernous cage.

“That’s mydolce topolina,” Alexander murmured almost sweetly even as he continued to grip my hair too tight. “Now, open that lush mouth.”

My head tipped back as he urged me with one hand while the other undid his trousers efficiently and pulled out his cock.

I was a virgin, but I had seen penises before in biology books and the smutty magazines the Made Men gave to Papa and even as bribes to my brother, Sebastian.

But I’d never seen or even conceived of something like what Alexander presented to me then.

It was more a weapon than an appendage.

Thicker by far than the circumference of my index finger and thumb with a head the colour and size of a ripe Italian plum, I couldn’t imagine taking it in my hand, let alone between my lips.

But something about the tapestry of veins pulsing down its length made my mouth water and made my tongue itch to trace them like drips from an ice-cream cone all the way down his shaft.

I shook my head dazedly, trying to shake the deviant desire from between my ears like some kind of earwig to the floor.

I did not want to find the weapon of my own destruction appealing.

Yet a small voice in the darkest recesses of my brain whispered to me that I did.

Alexander wrapped his big hand around his dick and pumped it tight and slow to the end so a pearl of precum crested the tip. With the hand on the back of my head, he brought me closer to draw the moisture over my parted lips like gloss.

Unbidden, my tongue shot out to trail the path and taste him.

Brine exploded on my taste buds, and my startled gaze shot up to his at the discovery.

His eyes blazed, so hot they turned the air to steam too thick to breath easily.

I panted.

“Yes,” he acknowledged in his cold British tones, the only hint of his arousal the slight deepening of his voice. “It’s good that you like the taste. It’s the only meal you’ll be getting with any kind of regularity until you learn your place. Now, clasp your hands behind your back, open wider, and take me inside.”

Tension gathered every single muscle in my body and bunched them into a tangled cord that he manipulated with every tug of his hand in my hair. My shoulders hunched and burned with stress as I opened my mouth to the breaking point and felt the broad head of his cock smooth over my tongue straight to the back of my throat.

He exhaled in relief as I choked on him, then swallowed convulsively, unintentionally taking him past the boundary of my gag reflex deep into my throat. Impaled on his cock, I groaned in protest and struggled to pull myself free.

If his hiss of pleasure was any indication, my struggle only brought him further pleasure.

The flat of his shoe pulsed slightly against my pubic bone, then lowered slightly so that it slid over my wet sex. The pressure felt good against my clit, and I squirmed, trying to focus on that instead of the grotesque sensation of Alexander sunk so deep in my mouth.

Finally, just when spots had started to erupt at the corners of my vision, he pulled me by the hair slowly off his dick.

I gasped and spluttered, dragging huge breaths into my deflated lungs.

“Nothing is worth accomplishing without difficulty first,” he lectured me, some kind of flagrantly perverted prophet spouting wisdom while his cock dripped with my saliva. “Breathe through your nose when I’m in your throat if you don’t want to suffocate on my dick.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he replaced my unspoken words with the slick slide of his erection pushing down into my throat again. Tears sprung to my eyes as I struggled against the intrusion, my throat working open and closed against him.