Page 57 of The Enslaved Duet

Heels clicked against the stone pavers on the steps. A low muffle of voices.

Then the heavy velvet against velvet sound of the door pushing open.

My breath left my body as I was filled to the brim with nervous, delicious anticipation.

My Master was home.

I didn’t look up even as the shoes clicked twice, then paused for an endless moment in the doorframe, before they started up again, crossing the white and black checkered floor to me.

When his black Ferragamo loafers appeared in my line of vision, I could have cried.

He didn’t speak as he stared down at me, not even when he finally placed a heavy hand on the top of my head and smoothed it over my hair. My breath stuttered from between my lips as he stepped closer and fiddled with his shirt.

His hand fell before my eyes holding a brilliant red tie.

I swallowed thickly.

He tied it briskly around my head, over my eyes, and though I tried, the fabric was too opaque for me to see anything.

The metallic gasp of his zipper, the rustle of parting fabric and then the hot press of his erection against my cheek.

He smelled so good there, deep musk and sinful man. My tongue flicked out to lick him, and I didn’t care how depraved it made me seem.

I was empty, empty, empty, and I needed him to fill me up.

As if hearing my thoughts, he wove his fingers into the back of my hair and slowly pressed me forward onto his length, impaling me.

I groaned, and tears sprang to my eyes.

I’d missed this, the swell of him between my lips and the struggle of him in my throat. My beauty had always been my only talent, but now I had another.

Pleasing my Master.

His hand spasmed in my hair, and the other joined it, threading through the locks to use them like reins. It delighted me to melt his usually ironclad control with my mouth.

I sucked on his shaft, squeezed my throat around his length, and lapped at the plump head like a kitten with milk.

He came all too quickly, both of us groaning as if in pain as his cum landed in lush spurts across my tongue.

Finally, he pulled my still eager mouth away from his length and stepped away, breathing hard.

As my submissive high abated, my gut began to clench with unease.

Alexander had never been a silent lover. He enjoyed taunting me as he used me, making me beg as he hurt me so well.

Why was he being so quiet?

I opened my mouth to question him when the hush of the well-oiled door whispered throughout the hall.

My spine snapped straighter, and I fought the urge to run.

I was naked, kneeling in the great hall like a statue meant for use instead of ornamentation, and there was another person there who was not my Master.

“What the fuck is this?” Alexander’s voice boomed out across the hall, the echo sticking in the corners as if caught by spider’s webs. “Get the bloody hell away from my property this minute.”

I ripped off the blindfold just in time to see Alexander in the doorway, his body colossal with rage as he stared down the man standing before me.

The man who had just used me.