Page 188 of The Enslaved Duet

I was desperate, filled with an excess of energy with no outlet. One touch to my cunt and I would detonate.

Even watching Xan loom over me like a Viking plundering his female spoils made my pussy coil so tightly, I wondered if that would be enough to launch me into climax.

There was thethap, thap, thapof his fist over his flesh and the hard churn of air through both our open mouths and then he was groaning, head tipped to the sky, Adam’s apple a hard knot in his golden throat as he moaned his imminent release.

I swept my eyes over his glistening chest and latched them to his cock just in time to see the first long rope of his semen arch out and land half in my waiting mouth, half on my cheek. The hand not on his cock found my throat and collared it as he tipped his head down to watch himself paint cum across my face.

I waited until he was spent before licking the brine off my lips, and then Xan used his finger to scoop up the rest and feed it to me.

I wanted to beg for release, but I didn’t because no matter what I said, it wasn’t me with the power. And no matter how sexually frustrated I was, every single part of me loved that.

Xan looked down at me, tipping my chin up so that we locked eyes, and I read the absolute tenderness in his expression.

“I rarely dream, but when I do, I dream of two inevitable things. I dream of killing my father, but my beauty, I dream the most of you.” His voice was as soft as a feather floating down against my cheek and just as hauntingly beautiful. “Though, this is the first time that dreaming of you was not a nightmare because I knew when I woke, you would still be here.”

“Xan,” I breathed, pulling an arm from where it was pinned under his leg so I could cup his face. “Don’t make me cry.”

“You’re beautiful when you cry. In fact, you are the most beautiful creature on this earth,” he expressed solemnly. “I’m certain of it.”

I tipped my chin down to skirt his hand over my cheek and nuzzled it. “We’re well matched then because I’ve never seen a man more gorgeous than you.”

His smile was slight and self-deprecating, but he didn’t protest. “Get up now, my beauty. Let me make you breakfast.”

I tried not to pout, but from the twitch of his lips, I could tell I failed. I was still poised on the knife’s edge of release, my pussy so slick it made a wet noise as I followed Xan out of the bed. He ignored this.

In fact, he practically ignored me as he made us eggs and bacon flavoured with Italian herbs and goat cheese. As he worked on his phone while I picked up my forgotten Cleopatra biography and then as he took a phone call from Riddick about the state of Ashcroft, who was still being held prisoner and beaten daily for his crimes against us.

I was washing the dishes in the sink when Xan finally approached behind me, wrapping his big hands over my hips so my ass canted up against his groin. His nose pushed my hair out of the way so he could trail his warm lips over my throat before he said, “Is my poor little mouse still desperate to come?”

Instantly, my poorly banked lust flared to life, and I gyrated back against him. “Yes, Master.”

“Hands to the counter, feet apart. If you move a single inch, I will stop,topolina, so be good for your Master, and I’ll eat you until you come all over my tongue. Then I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll be aching for the rest of the day.”

And he made good on his promise, eating at my pussy and ass from behind me, propped up on his knees on the floor with his rough hands holding me open for his ravenous mouth. I came twice on his tongue and twice more around the punishing invasion of his cock, the last at the same time he flooded me with another load of his hot, sticky seed. He held me still with one hand as he pulled out and played a finger in my messy pussy, watching as our juice leaked slowly down my thigh before he smeared them as he loved to do across my entire sex.

Now, I was speaking to Mason as Xan took his turn in the shower. I felt badly that I hadn’t spoken to my friend since the charity gala when Alexander had shown up to usurp his bid for my date night, but life had been too chaotic to spend any time on friendships over the past few weeks.

I couldn’t very well explain why that was to Mason, so I tried to be patient with his annoyance.

“That man who bought you, Cosi, he’s a fucking Britishlord, did you know that?” Mason demanded. “I read online that he’s from one of the most notorious families in the United Kingdom. His great-great-grandfather was called ‘Black Benedict’ because he would import slaves from Africa to use for his own pleasure!”

“Mason,” I said, my tone warm with unsuppressed amusement. “I hardly think it’s fair to judge someone based on the actions of their ‘great-great’ relative.”

He snorted. “Still, I don’t have a good feeling about him. I hope you aren’t seeing him now.”

“I am,” I told him, happy to do it.

I wanted people to know I was in love. I didn’t want to hide anymore. Alexander was the greatest man I knew, and I was proud to be with him. That didn’t necessarily mean I was ready to tell my family about him, not with the drama already wracking my family over Sinclair breaking up with Elena, but it was nice to tell at least one of my best friends about him.

There was a heavy silence as Mason processed this.

“What does this mean?”

I sighed. “It means I’m happy. For the first time in a long time. I would love if you could be happy for me.”

“It just…this changes things.”

“With your family?”