“You don’t know how to pleasure yourself?” he asked. He was rolling back his shirt sleeves as if about to get down to business. What was there to say to that? I made a small squeaking sound, which turned into a sharp yelp as he grabbed both of my ankles and yanked me sharply to the edge of the bed. As I watched in amazement, he lowered himself smoothly between my thighs. And then his head sank down, and he closed his mouth over my mound, his tongue swirling over my tortured clit. It was utterly unexpected.
“Oh!” The sound was torn from me. “Oh, God!” I was certain by now my clit was twice its regular size, and when he grazed his teeth over it lightly, the feeling was almost as mind-numbing as the tiny buzzing machine from last night. He nuzzled, tugged, and then sucked sharply and I gave a shout. And then I felt a deepening pressure within as he reached for the cock and pressed lightly, twisted it inside me.
“Oh geez! Oh, fuck!” I reached for his head, my fingers tangling into his hair. The pressure inside increased, fuller…deeper. Too deep. No, not deep enough.More!“Fuck! Yes! Yes! Oh fuck!” When did I turn into such a potty mouth?
“When did I turn into such a nymphomaniac?” was probably a better question. The cock inside me was thrusting like a piston, his mouth teasing and taunting on my clit. I arched my back and let another wave crash through me. I dropped back on the bed, panting like I’d just run a mile, and felt him gently untangle my fingers from his hair. I pried my eyes open in time to see him rock back on his heels and then rise to his feet. He slid the outrageous dildo from my body, and I felt a sensation of pure loss.
“Good choice,” he said, running a finger along the sticky shaft and licking my juices as he tossed it onto the bed beside me. “You might as well get used to the size of me now.” Holy shit, was he kidding? I stared speechlessly, mouth still hanging open as I gasped for air.
“I have work to do; I’ll be in my quarters,” he said as if he hadn’t just had his mouth full of my pussy. I knew what he meant. The “No-Go” zone. What the heck did he do in there?
“Don’t skip dinner today,” he added. “You need to eat.” I stared at his broad shoulders as he turned and left the room.
Chapter 11
Sasha Ramirez
I’d barely slept the previous night. Or the night before, for that matter. It had been over a week, and each day had been different…and yet the same. I’d wake to an empty apartment and head out to a string of appointments. By the third day, Horatio had advised that I’d be meeting with a personal trainer in the gym that I discovered was part of the insanely opulent apartment I now shared with the man I knew as Prince Walker.
By mid-afternoon, I’d be done, home for the day, dutifully stripping as I walked through the front door. The cameras were a constant reminder of how I now lived under a microscope.My drawer full of ‘toys’ was now familiar to me, although the maddening little buzzer was a firm favorite. If I wasn’t on my back with my hands between my thighs by 3 p.m. my phone would buzz. And then he’d insist on something more exotic. The monster cock still made my eyes fly wide. Get used to him?I couldn’t get my head around it. There was no way a normal man could be that big. And yet I’d have to take his word for it, because I still hadn’t seen him naked.
And I wanted to. Dear Lord, how I wanted to. Each night was like a marathon of agony and ecstasy. He’d test some new limit – taunting me, teasing me. And then it would all end the same way. Last night, he’d laid me out on the immaculate white leather couch in the living area. Naked – as always – I’d been coated in an oil that had warmed beneath his palms as he’d run his hands over me. Long swooping motions that had me burning beneath them. He’d been right about how responsive I would become with the daily orgasm sessions. My juices had been bubbling out of me by the time his fingertips spread my folds and probed in. Probed elsewhere too. Other parts…unexplored parts of me that brought the blood rushing to my cheeks even as I arched and strained for more of him.
“What do you want, Sasha?” he asked, as he always asked. He knew what I wanted, dammit. Surely he knew?
Him. I wanted him inside me. More than anything else. It was all I could think about from the moment I woke, almost to the point that I’d half-forgotten why I was here in the first place.Emilio.Thankfully, there’d been no further contact from the mobsters who had him, and my last message from Renée confirmed she hadn’t heard from them either. I kept telling myself that was a good thing. It had to be. I had no other options right now. Aside from this man who was becoming my constant tormenter.
I rolled out of bed, feeling the now familiar throb of my recently teased clit, my pouting pussylips. Was this what it felt like to be a sex slave? Maybe I could handle that.
If only he would just—
I shook my head. I was groggy. Aside from the fitful sleep that came with that constant frustration, I’d woken to the sound of movement in the night. He’d been up in the early hours. I’d heard doors opening and closing. Pacing.
What did he do over there in those locked rooms? The rooms I was forbidden from entering?
Chapter 12
Angelique Delavigne
Angelique emerged from her light doze and rolled over in the bed she’d flopped onto after her shower, wearing nothing but a soft toweling bathrobe. She reached to the nightstand to pick up one of the magazines her mother had dropped off. Dmitri was on the balcony having a night-cap. He walked back in when he heard movement.
"You're awake." He came over and kissed her forehead.
They were in the exclusive suite at The Four Seasons. They had flown in the day before so she could start making the arrangements for the wedding. It was not like she had much to do; her mother had championed the planning. They were just here to say, “I do” and sign the register.
Dmitri's family would be flying through in several days. For an aristocratic family, they had taken nicely to Angelique. Their noble heritage probably had a lot to do with why Angelique’s mother had finally come around to accepting Dmitri. Sophia Delavigne would be a snob until the day she died.
"Look at this,” Angelique said with a frown, for a moment, not thinking about who she was talking to. “It's not even been two weeks, and he's already seeing someone else. There are pictures of them in all these magazines. He takes her to all our favorite spots. Do you think he was cheating on me with her?"
"Darling, what do you care? You're with me. You're happy.We're getting married in a few days. You can't keep looking back at your ex," Dmitri replied, looking annoyed.
"You're right. You're right. I'm sorry. Did you get any sleep?" she asked, a little flustered as she realized she was feeling a surge of jealousy. The girl in the pictures with Prince was fine-featured and beautiful in a way that needed no enhancing. She had a face Angelique herself had longed for when she was much younger, and the world had yet to harden her.
"Not yet,” replied Dmitri. “The jet lag hasn't set in yet. Your city is beautiful. I know we agreed on Bali for our honeymoon, but afterward I'd like to take you to St. Petersburg. It's beautiful too, but in a different way; I think you'd love it."
"What did I do to deserve you?" she replied, looking at him lovingly. He was so different from Prince, with his warm eyes and tender concern. "I hope you know you're the stuff of my wildest dreams. I love you."
"And I you,” he said, smiling. She reached up her hand and trailed a fingertip down his cheek, feeling the light bristle of stubble there. It was a sensation she loved, and she cupped her palm and let the tiny hairs tickle her skin lightly.
