“Hold on to me,” he commands, his voice dropping to a deeper register as he loses himself in our connection too.
My hands fly to his hips, and I cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in my world. His powerful muscles flex as he quickly frees his thick, hard cock from the confines of his jeans.
He doesn’t have to order me to open my mouth to accept him. I greedily part my lips in wanton invitation, and his precum wets my tongue as he enters me in a slow slide. He doesn’t stop when he hits the back of my throat, and I struggle to suppress my gag reflex so that I can take all of him. When he’s deep inside me, he stills for a moment, fixing me in his emerald stare.
Then he tugs on my leash, and I cry out around his cock.
He curses and withdraws, allowing me to draw the breath I so desperately need. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he starts to fuck my mouth in a steady rhythm. With each ruthless thrust, he toys with the leash, so that the hook gently fucks my ass in time with his cock in my throat.
I lose count of my orgasms, each peak crashing into the next. All I can do is cling to him and breathe when he deigns to allow me oxygen. The ecstasy is vicious and all-consuming, burning me up inside.
My desperate, blissful tears stream down my face, and I taste the salt on his cock as it slides between my lips.
“One more,” he snarls. “Come for me, Abigail.”
My final orgasm claims me in a violent crescendo, and I scream around his dick. He roars out his own completion, and his hot cum spills onto my tongue. I greedily swallow everything he gives me.
I’m his, and he’s mine.
My beautiful, cruel, perfect master’s knees buckle, and he sinks to the tiles before me. His strong arms close around me, pulling me into a careful embrace as though I’m made of glass. I’m his precious pet, his most treasured possession. He’ll never let me go.
And I’ll never release him either.
59
ABIGAIL
Terror grips my mind in a vise, and all of my muscles tense with the survival instinct to flee from an encroaching threat. A shadow in the shape of a man looms at the bedroom door, a dangerous silhouette against the moonlight at his back. A copper tang coats my tongue, and I open my mouth to scream.
No sound comes out. I try to scramble away, but my bones are made of lead. I can’t so much as twitch my limbs in an effort to fight him off.
I can’t move. I can’t speak.
Fear climbs up my throat in a choking vine, cutting off my ability to breathe.
The shadow draws closer, flickering toward me like a malevolent apparition.
Sweat beads on every inch of my skin, but I’m frozen. My skin burns, but my flesh is icy, and the dichotomy makes nausea churn in my gut.
The shadow flickers again, and the man is a foot closer now.
He’s going to touch me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.
Another shadow stirs at the foot of the bed. Only my eyes move in my paralyzed body, and I watch in pure horror as the shadow coalesces into a small child. She can’t be more than five years old, but her haunted expression makes her even more horrifying than the encroaching man. Tears stream from her aqua eyes, and she begins to crawl up the length of my legs, reaching out a beseeching hand for my help.
The man is coming for both of us, but I’m even more petrified of the little girl. If she touches my face with that tiny, trembling hand…
My eyes snap open, but the nightmare doesn’t disappear. The shadowy man still looms over the bed, and the sobbing child fills my vision as she crawls onto my chest, seeking comfort.
My vocal cords finally loosen, and a strangled, sharp cry tears from my throat.
“Abigail!”
The man and the child dissipate as though they’re made of smoke.
Strong hands grasp my shoulders, and I twist away from the restraining hold with a defiant shriek.
The night-darkened world swirls around me, and I fall. I hit the carpeted floor, and my head spins. I’m not sure what’s real anymore. I search the shadows frantically for the little girl, torn between an aching yearning to save her and stomach-turning dread that I’ll have to face her again.
