Page 41 of The Enslaved Duet

“I want to teach you about obedience.”

“I thought you were,” I retorted drily as he led me up the third-floor staircase and turned us into the Hall of Mirrors.

I was a vain woman, so I’d spent some time here on my daily wanderings, staring at the money eyes that had gotten me into such trouble. I knew from my tour with Noel that it had been added after the fourth Earl had visited Versailles and fallen in love with the opulence. I’d never seen the French palace, but the gold gilt, floor-to-ceiling mirrors and the pink marble floor certainly seemed over the top enough for the French.

Alexander moved over to a red velvet ottoman and a small table set up in the middle of the space and beckoned me forward with a crook of his finger.

Each step felt like one inch closer to a tragic death by guillotine, only I knew it was my pride on the line and not my life.

Because even as I hated him for ripping my virginity out at the seams the day before, it seemed that he had emptied out my lining only to stuff me full of something else. Something velvety and dark, something with a scent like musk and honey, something that lived for sex.

I could feel my pulse settle between my thighs and beat like a gong.

“Your lessons will never cease,topolina.You are a submissive slave but not a weak one; therefore, my work will never be done. Come and stand before me.”

I didn’t stop until our toes were touching, a small act of defiance that made Alexander hum darkly. He moved back an inch, then clasped my chin firmly to lift my eyes to his.

“This is lesson two,bella. I am your Master, yes, but the game of Domination and submission is not the only one we play. We also play the one of life and death. If you cannot learn to obey me when you must, forces beyond my control will certainly kill you and probably me too.”

“What kind of game is that?” I asked breathlessly.

He tightened his hold so that I had to strain on my tiptoes to keep my neck from snapping back. His mouth moved next to mine, his lips so close to my own I could feel the distance like a tangible thing, like a kiss itself.

“A game neither of us chose to play, but one both of us must win. So you’ll learn.” He pushed me gently away and picked up a frightening looking apparatus from the table. “Do you know what this is?”

I shook my head erratically.

“These are electric stimulation paddles. They are connected to this,” he said, holding up his iPhone. “I am going to attach them to your body and give you a series of commands. If you do not react as you must, you will receive a small shock.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, genuinely frightened. “What kind of monstershockssomeone? I’m not some stray dog you are trying to break of bad habits.”

“No,” he said in that voice I was beginning to understand was the one of a Dominant. It was hushed but heavy, pressing in on me like a metal compressor, crunching my will into dust. “I am not kidding. I think we’ve established that I am not the kind of man whokids. And you are most certainly a stray, one I picked up on the streets of Napoli and dusted off, but one who needs to be trained. If you think the imagery is unflattering, I suggest you learn quickly to adapt.”

“Bestia,” I growled into his face as he lifted the mess of wires and attachments into the air.

“I am a beast, my beauty,” he agreed with a feral grin. “But I am your beast.”

He taped the small paddles to my breasts, the sensitive junction where my torso, pubis, and inner thighs met, and the upper and lower portions of my ass. I looked like some horribly deviant robot, delineated with black wires and tape. Alexander turned to grab something from the table and held it up for me to see before tossing it at me. I glared at him as I caught the soft piece of fabric, and he stared back, only raising one thick brow as if to ask whether I wanted to be disobedient before we’d even begun. With a gusty sigh, I dutifully stepped into the black satin corset that covered the paddles and kept them snug against my skin.

I could see myself in the many mirrors lining the four walls; countless reflections of my body and the way Alexander seemed to devour it with his eyes.

They burned when I turned from the reflection to look into their real-life iteration. They burned so bright he seemed almost manic with lust. It was such a contrast to the cold, hard set of his body, but it made me realize how much restraint he had to leash himself with around me.

He wanted to chase, capture, and fuck me like an animal, holding me down by the neck with his teeth as he rutted into me.

But he wouldn’t because he was a gentleman, and he’d been raised on a steady diet of control and conservatism.

Instead, he would transform his animal aggression into deviant calculation, using whips, electro-shock paddles, his teeth, his hands, and his cock to dominate not just my body, spirit and temptations, but his own.

There was something thrilling in understanding that duality, and I felt a little piece of the Lord Thornton puzzle slide into place.

“Go to the door and stand there facing me,” he commanded.

I could feel the dampness on the inside of my thighs with each step I took toward the door. By the time I turned to face him from across the room, I was panting slightly.

He had seated himself on the red ottoman, thick thighs spread, hands dangling between his knees with a short, black whip in one of them. His full lower lip was caught at the edge by one of his teeth as he stared at me with hooded eyes.

He didn’t look like a lord or a businessman radiating power, but so at ease with it, he seemed casual. No, he looked like a god.