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Content Warning: Contains graphic sexual content that may offend some readers.
“Slave,” Tornada snarled, his blood running hot, his mouth dry. “Show the Archeron how talented you are.”
He jerked on the leash again, the long strip of leather snapping tight. For a moment Jai’Enna didn’t move and a cold sense of unease twisted in Tornada’s gut. But then the finely toned muscles in her back flexed, her ass cheeks tightened and she lifted slightly from her obeisant bow, turning while still on her knees to face him, her head aligned with his crotch, her hands folded loosely in her lap.
A lump formed in Tornada’s throat. Thick. Solid. He looked down at her, his eyes drinking in the fire-red of her wild hair, the smooth pale perfection of her shoulders. His cock twitched and stiffened, eager for the touch of her lips. His chest however, squeezed tight, knowing the heaven, the sheer rapture of her mouth on his shaft might very well end with his suicide.
And then she lifted her head and wide eyes the color of Keltarian jade stared at him. Unreadable. Indecipherable. Enigmatic. “As you command, Master,” she said on a husky breath, before reaching forward, unsnapping the fasteners of his trousers and releasing his cock of its snug confinement.
Her long, tapered fingers closed around its throbbing length immediately, sending shards of liquid pleasure straight into Tornada’s balls. He sucked in a sharp breath, fighting — no, battling for control. The need to bury his fingers in the thick tumble of her hair was overwhelming. To bury them into the cool, silken strands and direct her mouth to his cock, to feel her slide her full lips over its bulbous head. Almost as overwhelming as the inescapable knowledge she was going to kill him, slipping into his mind the second he orgasmed and suggesting something ominous and irresistible. That the pleasure he felt now, was the last he would ever feel.
He ground his teeth, every fiber of his being taut, every muscle burning. Silently, slowly, she leant forward at the hip and touched the tip of her warm, wet tongue to his turgid erection.
A low, raw gasp filled his lungs and his eyelids fluttered closed. By Aop, he remembered this. So well. Too well.
Her tongue swirled over the stretched skin of his cockhead, tracing tiny lines across its hot surface, flicking at the sensitive glands just below its distended rim. Her fingertips found his thighs and slid up their bunched length, teasing the soft hairs on his balls with a feather-light stroke before slipping around to grasp his ass cheeks.
He opened his eyes and gazed down at her, fisting his hands on his hips, forcing his body to be still. No matter how much he longed for every exquisite, dangerous second of her touch, he needed to convey the impression of a slave master, not a man ruled by a heart that should know better.
Her head dipped forward, her teeth nipping ever so gently at the very tip of his cock. Her fingers caressed his ass, kept his hips motionless as her tongue painted his cock with long, wet strokes — head to base, base to head. His blood sang in his ears and his pulse quickened, more so when she closed her lips over that bulbous, throbbing head and took it into her mouth. She sucked lightly, the pressure sending shooting ribbons of tension down his shaft into his balls. A low groan sounded in his throat and he pulled in a short breath through his teeth.
Her tongue worked the underside of his cock, lathered it, teased it. Her head bobbed, drawing her lips up and down his turgid length, drawing another groan from deep within his chest. A movement in the room caught his pleasure-fogged attention and he flicked his gaze to the Archeron. The Master Slaver stared at them, the snug material of his leather breeches tented at the crotch, his right hand cupping at the bulge beneath. But his eyes, glowing orange with hunger, still revealed his wariness. Either he knew who they were, or he suspected they weren’t who they pretended to —
Jai’Enna’s fingers slipped from Tornada’s ass and cupped his balls and the disturbing thought vanished from his mind to be replaced by utter sexual fervor so intense his eyes closed and his muscles coiled. Her tongue curled around his cock, her teeth scraped its sides. Pain threaded through pleasure and he let out a raw moan. By Aop, her mouth was better than the Ninth Heaven!
He thrust his hips forward, shoving his cock deeper, feeling its swollen head ram the back of Jai’Enna’s throat. The tip of her tongue flicked at the swell of his sac, sending a wild wave of wet heat into his groin and up his spine. He ground his teeth, determined to hold off the inevitable. If this was the last time he drew breath, he wanted it to last.
“Very good,” the Archeron murmured, voice oily with appreciation and approval. “Very good.”
Tornada tuned him out; drew to his mind a room scented with fine incense and decorated with even finer silks and satins. He no longer stood in the seedy viewing room of a Cluster-Fuck Barge, but the master suite of his family’s primary castle. He no longer feared for his life from the woman at his feet, but feared for the day she would leave him, claimed by time and old-age, gone to the Nine Heavens after decades of contented, blissful life together.
Jai’Enna’s fingers slipped from his balls, worked their smooth way past his perineum to the clenching hole of his anus. One firm fingertip pressed at that puckered hole and Tornada bucked, ramming his cock deeper into her mouth. She knew exactly what to do to make him boil with scalding pleasure. She always did. Her finger pressed harder to his ass, penetrating ever so slightly the gripping circle of muscle even as her mouth continued to pull and suck at his cock.
“Aop!” The cry burst from his lips, hoarse and savage. He grabbed at her hair, tangled his fingers in the cool, thick strands, a lifeline he knew she would both enjoy and despise. Unable to control himself, he fucked her mouth, plunging into the hot, wet well in wild thrusts, his aching, heavy balls slapping against her chin, his body burning with the need to erupt.
A moan sounded in the room, a vibration filled his balls. He opened his eyes and, blood like electricity, dropped his gaze to Jai’Enna.
She sucked at his cock, her lips glistening with moisture, her own eyes closed — the perfect picture of an obedient slave. But it was the expression on her face that made Tornada’s heart pound. Ecstasy. Another moan tickled his ears, another tiny wave of vibrations rippled his balls. Euphoria flooded through Tornada. Jai’Enna was enjoying what he’d ordered her to do! For three moon-cycles they’d devoured each other’s bodies in lustful hunger. Just as she knew him, so too, he knew her. The expression that softened her face could not be created, no matter how important for deception.
She wanted to give him pleasure. Drew her own from his.