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She worked her way back to where she’d started and then took me in again. Watching her was fucking amazing—the sexy, little seductress on her knees.

She kept it up at a tortuously slow pace. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she knew exactly how to drive a man mad. After a while, I grabbed the back of her head and held her still as I started to increase the pace, thrusting deep, faster. Her hot mouth felt so fucking good. And she looked so god damned hot.

Her eyes darted up and then back down, more than once, and I should have corrected her, but I loved those eyes. I’d always loved those eyes. And they were sexy as hell now.

It was hard not to find a woman hot when my cock was filling her mouth, but this…her…I didn’t think a hotter woman could possibly exist.

And she did a damn good job keeping up, taking a breath every time I withdrew so she was ready for me when I drove into the back of her throat. She was a natural. Whether she liked it or not, she was made for sex, for submission…for me. So fucking hot.

I fucked her mouth harder, faster. Every thrust made her breasts bounce enticingly. She looked up at me with her sexy as hell green eyes, and they were clouded with her own desire. Sucking my cock had kept her aroused—it was clear in her gaze.

And it was just too fucking much. My balls drew up tight seconds before I thrust in deep one last time. Shockwaves of lightning shot through my body and I spurted my cum at the back of her throat, watching her throat swallow over and over again.

I withdrew from her mouth when she’d swallowed everything I had, and I stood there watching her for a moment, just enjoying the view.

She looked up once more, but I wasn’t caught up in fucking her mouth now, so I cocked an eyebrow and she dropped her gaze. But not before I’d seen what was in it. Arousal, hell yes. But it was something else that caught my attention. Or more precisely, there was a lack of something else. It was if she’d been stunned—by the way she’d responded so enthusiastically to sucking my cock? Maybe, but something wasn’t right.

She was too still, like the calm before the storm. I really hoped she wasn’t preparing to lash out now. I’d actually regret having to punish her after such a stellar performance. No doubt, she had conflicting feelings about what she’d just done, but as a slave, she needed to learn to subdue them, to keep them to herself. Her new master would tolerate nothing less.

I stood there for another moment, letting the showerhead massage the backs of my shoulders. Because with each passing second, the feeling grew stronger. There was a storm brewing, and it was only a matter of time before my little tempest let loose her fury.

6

Scarlett

I knelt there on the shower floor with so many emotions coursing through me that I didn’t know what to feel. Or whether to feel at all. I’d liked it. God damn it, I’d liked the feel of him in my mouth. And the sounds he’d made…knowing I was the one responsible for them…it had made me heady.

But now, I was hovering on the brink of insanity, and it was so tempting to let myself tumble over, to let it swallow me up. Whatever else it did to me, I didn’t care so long as it took my mind with it. This was too much—too much even to process how I should feel.

It wasn’t what the devil had done, or even how my traitorous body had responded to it. I would gladly go back to that now, to the depraved way my body had responded to him watching me, to him touching me. I’d happily relive him forcing me to my knees and shoving his cock in my mouth and the wicked thrill that had shot through me.

Yes, I wanted those things back. I didn’t want to remember what had happened after when he’d looked down at me with his vivid, blue eyes and they fell into place in my mind. I knew now why they’d seemed like a comfort when I’d first seen him, why he so easily fit into my depraved dreams.

The devil who had handcrafted my own personal hell wasn’t a nameless, faceless devil at all.

He was the place I had once run to in my mind, always, the last person who’d genuinely seemed to care about me. And now, he was pure evil. He was humiliation, and pain, and hopelessness.

He was Derek…though I wished with every fiber of my being that he was anyone else.

He was talking to me. I could hear his voice through a haze, but I couldn’t make out the words. I didn’t want to make them out. I didn’t want to understand what he was saying.


Tags: Nicole Casey Beauty and the Captor Erotic