More Than An Esclave

Part 1

“Please, Adrian…” I squirm under his hot weight. His soft lips smile against my skin as his tongue darts out to lick my taut nimple. A moan escapes me when he latches onto my breast, sucking hard.

“What do you want, Esclave?” He asks, his low seductive voice whispers over my heated flesh.

I meet his charged gaze with equal ardour and plead, “You. I want you.”

He flashes me a devious smile while sliding down my body. He stops when his head is hovering over my mound. His smouldering eyes rake down my body, their intensity sets my body ablaze.

Leaning back on his heels, he pushes his middle finger in his mouth and coats it with saliva. Then, slowly, he sinks that finger into my vagina. I gasp as his intrusive finger slides in easily, his saliva mingling with my wetness.

He hums deep in his throat. His eyes dance salaciously. “You're already wet for me. I like it. I like it a lot.”

My cheeks feel hot. My heart races. I watch him watch his finger disappear inside my nether channel. Sensations arise in my lower belly. Inner muscles wind tighter with each pump of his finger.

Rubbing... Stretching... Fucking...

My eyes fall shut when he adds another finger to his exquisite torture. After a slight discomfort, I feel myself getting more aroused as a hint of pain brings a whole new dimension to my pleasure.

“How does it feel, Esclave?” His eyes remain fixed on my sex as he enquires softly.

“Good.” I gulp as a wave of pleasure washes over me. My inner walls clench around his finger as I start trembling with the increasing pressure between my hips. “Faster, Adrian. Fuck me harder.”

He growls in response to my needy words, sending a thrill spiraling up my body. His fingers start thrusting… faster… deeper… harder.

My back arches off the bed when his thumb connects with my oversensitive clit. I scramble at the sheets as my orgasm builds and builds and builds, reaching new heights...

Oh god… I won't be able to handle it.

The intensity of my orgasm terrifies me but I can't stop bucking my hips wantonly on his fingers, tensing, clenching, urging him to go harder on me. His thrusts speed up and my head rolls to the side. My teeth come down to dig in my lips as my first tear tracks down my temple. I breathe shallowly, intoxicated on his smell and strength as his cut muscles ripple with raw power. His biceps flex as I watch him thrust into me over and over again with half lidded eyes.

As soon as I open my mouth to moan out loud, Adrian's fingers curl deep inside my channel and rub against my g-spot while his thumb presses down on my clit… I scream, literally howl as rapture explodes from my core and my tense muscles spasm. My orgasm surges through me like waves after waves of ecstasy, fluctuating between intense pleasure and numbness.

My eyelids feel glued together as I breath heavily. My muscles quaver as I come to be with a startle. My throat feels scratchy; an obvious result of my screeching. When I open my heavy eyes, bright light assaults my retina. My hand shoots up to cover my face as my eyes adjust.

What the…!?

Slowly, I realize that I had been dreaming... But my uneven breathing and pounding heart confirms that my orgasm was as real as death.

I allow the remaining fragments of my dream to fade away and take in my condition. I've somehow managed to tangle myself with the black satin sheets of the bed… my body is covered in a fine layer of perspiration… and my mind is a little bit fuzzy.

I'm still trying to make sense of what just happened when… I feel the wetness between my clenched thighs. I find two of my fingers embedded deep inside my vagina.

Blood rushes to my cheeks as I pull out my fingers and watch them glisten in the morning sunlight pouring in through the glass walls. I sit up, hotly embarrassed and swipe my clean hand down my face.

This is the fourth time in a single week that I've woken up because of an orgasm. My subconscious has been working on overdrive lately, knitting illicit dreams inside my head.

I constantly find myself wet, whenever the thought of sex with my bastard of a master crosses my head.

Damn it! I had sex with him only once and right after the night he took me, the asshole broke my heart.

Anger shimmers inside me, my fists curl. I won't let him treat me like that again. Who does he think he is? He might be some badass assassin or some sadistic mafia but that doesn't give him the entitlement to treat me the way he did. I bared my soul to him, tore my heart out and placed it in his palm… All for what? To be called an "Esclave" and threatened to be sold away or sent back to that fucking snob, Balthazar?

No way.

My jaw clenches with indignation and I look around myself with pure loathing. I'll get out of this godforsaken place and that's a promise to myself. Then I'll make my master face me and accept me. I am his, he owns my virginity, he's my first kiss. I won't let him move on without me. I forbid it.

Either he let me go or let me in. I won't live as a captive. Because I'm not one. I know he wants me. I hadn't imagined all that white-hot passion he showed me so frequently, before avoiding me like a plague for an entire week, using his brother as a delivery boy who has been bringing me food, twice a day.

With a determined mindset, I climb out of bed, pick up the black shirt I've been using for so long and carry it to the bathroom. I complete my chores and come out freshly showered and ready to plot out an escape plan.

But before I can get started, or even think about it, the double doors fly open and the starring character of my nightmares steps in. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit with a white evening shirt. Fuck! He looks like he's worth a billion bucks.

(I know I just thought this but I don't really think this guy has a price. He bought me for a billion pounds. I mean, how crazy and messed up is that for a person to buy another person like a possession?)

My heart stops at the sight of him, then kicks into fourth gear.

His mesmerizing electric blue eyes scan the room, pausing for a beat longer on the bed to take in the rumpled sheets before moving on… and landing directly on my shirt clad body. The expression on his face gives nothing away. It's the same one he had on the balcony that day.

My spine stiffens as I watch him watch me. Our eyes remain locked, his cold and unnerving, mine fluttering with trepidation. I feel myself becoming breathless and hyper aware of his conquering presence.

God damn my body! Despite the wrong vibes I'm getting from him, I still can't help but respond to him and his magnetic pull. It's like I'm under his spell or something.

But it's been too long since the last time he put his eyes on me, touched me… Fucked me…

Crap! When did I become so desperate? Desperate for him!? I suppress a groan as we stare down each other.

He says nothing. Neither do I. But the feeling of discomfort pesters me first. So, I clear my throat and dare to speak to him directly. “What do you want?”

He arches a perfect eyebrow at what my question implies — I don't fear you. I know he's trying to intimidate me with his cold demeanour and it's working. But that doesn't mean I have to show him just how much.

I give him a cool look when all I want to do is drop to my knees and beg him for another chance. But my body is under control of my irrational, aka, emotional mind and I can't give up.

I watch his jaw set and lock. My breathing accelerates with excitement when finally his crazy blue eyes rove over my body for the first time.

Yes! He's seeing me, not as a possession but as a woman. But wait… do I really want him to look at me that way?

“You.” He rasps out, his voice thick with restraint. “I want you.”

Okay, I've decided. I don't want him to look at me that way, not right now when his temper seems to have replaced his conscience. And this hasn't gone unnoticed by me that just an hour ago, I'd said I wanted him in my dream, exactly the way he's said to me right now.

Blinking a few times, I realise that his demeanor has changed from cold and indifferent and slipped into severe hostility. The way his chest is rising and falling and his fists have balled at his sides, it has started to put me at unease.

Why does he get so worked up at the mere sight of me? I haven't done anything out of line, in fact, I've done nothing, yet.

My hands tremble as I watch him move in my direction, slowly, taking one step at a time. I back away until my figure is pressed against the bathroom door. There's only one word I can think of for the raging look in his smouldering eyes; Lust. Completely unbridled desire that borders towards depravity.

My eyes fall shut when he's right in front of me, right in my face. He breathes hotly on my forehead, blowing away the strands of my hair. I stay like that, frozen with closed eyes, until his smoky voice coaxes me to look at him. “Open your eyes, Esclave.”

Not that word again!

My eyes snap open. I glare up at him. “I. Am. Not. A. Slave.” I punctuate every word with a jab of my index finger in his hard suited chest. His gaze darkens as he gazes at me with sick intensity.

Slowly, when he refuses to budge, his warmth engulfs my body and his smell surrounds my senses. I try not to breathe too deeply but I can't help but sigh as his unique scent, mixed with a signature cologne fogs my olfactory.

He's attractive to me and that's a fact I can't deny… more like I don't want to deny. And it's about time I show him just how much I find him attractive.

I admit I'm scared of my own feelings for him that had deepened when I'd thought he was opening up to me, trusting me that night with his past and desires. But in reality, he doesn't give a crap about me. He proved it to me alright.

I should hate him. I should wish to see him dead. But my body doesn't understand that.

When will my body accept the truth and start seeing the sadistic monster that hides behind this facade of an extremely powerful and mysteriously wealthy man?

I want to whimper, break down and beg him to take me but at the same time, I want to threaten him with a knife and demand for my freedom… but neither of the combinations are going to help me, I know that for sure.

So, I do what I think will get me an appropriate reaction out of him.

I stay still for at least five seconds, giving him the impression that I'm scared of him. Then with an "urgh", I wind my arms around his neck and slam my soft body against his hard one. Surprise makes his lips part and I take full advantage, going for his mouth and diving in my tongue to taste him.

When his surprise wears off, he tries to pull away from me. But with each stroke of my tongue, his attempts weaken and weaken, until he's the one ravishing my mouth and scrambling at my body like he can't get close enough.

I moan wantonly against his lips when his big warm hands grab my ass cheeks and squeeze my flesh to the point of pain. My hips move and pump against him as I try to dislodge his hands from my rear. It hurts… it hurts so bad. I know I want him to stop, this is not fun or anything that would turn me on. He's seriously hurting me. He's going to leave fingerprints if he didn't stop now.

Wrenching my mouth away, tasting coffee and blood, I try to form coherent words to put an end to this madness. “Stop! You're hurting me, Adrian.”

“I know.” He says, breathing much more evenly than he had been before the kiss. Did my kiss calm him down? Or was it my pain? I don't want to know.

After another painful squeeze, he relents and lets go of my writhing body. I rub my tender bottom, still glaring and mutter "Bastard" under my breath. Either he didn't catch it or he's ignoring, he says nothing. Shrugging his suit jacket a few times to straighten out the wrinkles, he smooths back his hair then steps away from me.

He glowers at me with dark eyes. Suspicion flickers in the blue depths as he searches my face for something… Something like a motive.

Huh, good luck with that! I stick my tongue out at him in annoyance when he continues to give me that inquisitive look. His jaw flexes and I hide my smile. So, I do affect him… Nice… feminine satisfaction settles in my heart as he clears his throat and grows cold and detached again, quickly raising up his guard.

“This should keep you in line for now.” He says, frowning.

“Did I step over some line?” I ask, irritated and confused.

“Yes. You can't make the first move.”

“But you can, huh?”

“As your owner, I can.”

His arrogant words anger me. But I deliberately bite my tongue.

“Are you going to let me out today?” I ask instead, without any expectation of getting an answer.

But he surprises me with a sharp nod. “Yes.”

I try not to smile as he gestures for me to follow him out of the room. Just as we cross the threshold, a giddy feeling rises in my chest. Finally, I can put my feet to some better use, other than pacing the perimeter of the empty chamber. But my steps falter near the stairs when I notice my bare feet. I realize that I'm not dressed enough, after all I'm completely naked underneath the black shirt.

“I need some more clothes.” I speak out loud, hesitating behind him.

Adrian turns to give me an assessing look. His expression is still cold but I can see the consideration in his eyes as he looks me up and down. I shift on my feet, waiting for him to make his move.

“Hmm, follow me.” Instead of continuing down the stairs, he backtracks to my former room and leads me inside his walk-in closet.

Ignoring the racks after racks of expensive clothing, he opens an elegant armory, tucked between two tall cupboards that I believe contain his shirts. I remember sneaking out the shirt I'm wearing from in there.

He steps away from the open armory, allowing me to gawk at the glittering dresses hanging inside. My eyes flicker to him. He nods. Was I asking for permission?

Subconsciously, I shuffle forward and reach out to pluck a stunning black gown out of the collection. There are a variety of beautiful dresses to choose from but I chose the black one. It appealed to me… Is Adrian's obsession with black colour rubbing on me? Crap!

“That's a nice choice.” His appraisal makes me skeptical but I don't make any comment. I'm still not sure why I chose it.

“You want me to wear this?” I ask, a little surprised and suspicious.

“Yes.” He rasps in a deep voice, eyes traveling up and down my body. I shudder inwardly.

With a smirk playing on his lips, eyes glinting wickedly and stance open yet overpowering, he slips his hands in his pockets and cocks his head.

An erotic shiver rakes up my spine when his deep masculine voice forces me to bend to his will with a single sensual command.

“Strip. I wish to see my Esclave naked.”