Read Online A Virgin Enslaved (Inhumanly Handsome, Humanly Flawed Alpha Male Erotic Romance) by Artemis Hunt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Artemis Hunt
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pupils are dilated and his nostrils flare as he breathes. I can tell that he’s very, very aroused, and I’m excited as well, and filled with a deep yearning to be touched by this spectacular human specimen.
He doesn’t touch me, but instead turns to a rack containing bottles with spigots beside my massage bed. He taps a spigot and out comes dollops of generous cream.
“Lie still,” he says as he lathers the cream onto my chest, the area just above my breasts.
His touch is heavenly, and the soft crinkling of the cream against my skin suggests there is foam in it. He rubs the cream into my flesh, and studiously avoids my breasts as he moves down to the soft curve of my belly.
I arch my back at the pleasure of it.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Why?”
“I want to blindfold you. Do I have your permission?”
Blindfold? A momentary alarm seizes me. Why does he want to blindfold me? With a blindfold, I’m helpless. Blindfolds are reserved for people into kinky sex and bondage – at least, that is what I’ve been led to believe.
The sudden fear rises in me like bile.
“Beth, you have to trust me. This will be nice . Please. You’re going to love this.”
He looks so earnest and commanding that I relent. I weakly nod. Sometime down the line, I’ll have to surrender.
He retrieves a black blindfold from a drawer on the rack. He’s had this all planned out, I’m certain. He slips it around my head and presses it onto my eyes. It becomes a constrictive band around my temples. All at once, everything becomes black. I suppress the surge of panic that bolts to my throat. Stop it, Beth, you consented to this, remember?
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently. “Why ever would you think that?”
The darkness closes in around me and my breathing stills. In my ears, I can hear the embryonic thudding of my heartbeat. Even the sounds in the room have become muted. Somewhere within the background music of birdsong and flute, leaves rustle. I can almost imagine myself in a primary jungle. Everything around me is tinged with the corona of anticipation.
His touch – when it comes – is firm upon my breasts. I gasp. Both his hands grope at my mounds, cupping them, testing them for weight and tensile strength. His fingers brush against my nipples, and I feel them growing taut.
“You have beautiful, beautiful tits,” he says in a smoky voice that lulls me.
A wetness settles upon my right nipple, and a tongue flickers out and licks it. Ohhhhhhh . I realize he has closed his mouth around it, and he sucks and licks it now in slow, lazy circles. His hands continue to knead my breasts, pushing and squeezing them together so that my nipples face upwards. His tongue swirls around my areola and worries my nipple like a swollen teat. The pleasure is intense.
Blood rushes to my face, and I feel a moistness trickling down my sex. I am extremely aroused. Prickly sweat starts to gather on my back.
He transfers his mouth to my left nipple and repeats the sucking and licking. His hands trail down my abdomen . . . down, down to my pubic region, where they push away the towel – my last refuge of modesty.
I am bared to him.
Naked to the soul.
With his mouth still fastened on my nipple, one of his hands brushes my pubic hair and dives down to my throbbing sex. I give a little cry. His touch is fire on my already inflamed clit.
“Beth, Beth, Beth,” he murmurs. “It’s OK. Stay still.”
But how can I? It’s exquisite – all those sensations he evokes within me. I writhe and arch my back.
His fingers curl around my clit, parting my thighs and the wedges of my sex. I’m extremely wet down there, and he dips into this wetness and smears it all around the folds and contours of my sex. His finger latches onto the hood of my clit. I contort my body with the wonderful agony of it.
He applies an unrelenting pressure as he massages my clit. My hands dive to cover it – so intense is the erotic pleasure –
He doesn’t touch me, but instead turns to a rack containing bottles with spigots beside my massage bed. He taps a spigot and out comes dollops of generous cream.
“Lie still,” he says as he lathers the cream onto my chest, the area just above my breasts.
His touch is heavenly, and the soft crinkling of the cream against my skin suggests there is foam in it. He rubs the cream into my flesh, and studiously avoids my breasts as he moves down to the soft curve of my belly.
I arch my back at the pleasure of it.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Why?”
“I want to blindfold you. Do I have your permission?”
Blindfold? A momentary alarm seizes me. Why does he want to blindfold me? With a blindfold, I’m helpless. Blindfolds are reserved for people into kinky sex and bondage – at least, that is what I’ve been led to believe.
The sudden fear rises in me like bile.
“Beth, you have to trust me. This will be nice . Please. You’re going to love this.”
He looks so earnest and commanding that I relent. I weakly nod. Sometime down the line, I’ll have to surrender.
He retrieves a black blindfold from a drawer on the rack. He’s had this all planned out, I’m certain. He slips it around my head and presses it onto my eyes. It becomes a constrictive band around my temples. All at once, everything becomes black. I suppress the surge of panic that bolts to my throat. Stop it, Beth, you consented to this, remember?
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently. “Why ever would you think that?”
The darkness closes in around me and my breathing stills. In my ears, I can hear the embryonic thudding of my heartbeat. Even the sounds in the room have become muted. Somewhere within the background music of birdsong and flute, leaves rustle. I can almost imagine myself in a primary jungle. Everything around me is tinged with the corona of anticipation.
His touch – when it comes – is firm upon my breasts. I gasp. Both his hands grope at my mounds, cupping them, testing them for weight and tensile strength. His fingers brush against my nipples, and I feel them growing taut.
“You have beautiful, beautiful tits,” he says in a smoky voice that lulls me.
A wetness settles upon my right nipple, and a tongue flickers out and licks it. Ohhhhhhh . I realize he has closed his mouth around it, and he sucks and licks it now in slow, lazy circles. His hands continue to knead my breasts, pushing and squeezing them together so that my nipples face upwards. His tongue swirls around my areola and worries my nipple like a swollen teat. The pleasure is intense.
Blood rushes to my face, and I feel a moistness trickling down my sex. I am extremely aroused. Prickly sweat starts to gather on my back.
He transfers his mouth to my left nipple and repeats the sucking and licking. His hands trail down my abdomen . . . down, down to my pubic region, where they push away the towel – my last refuge of modesty.
I am bared to him.
Naked to the soul.
With his mouth still fastened on my nipple, one of his hands brushes my pubic hair and dives down to my throbbing sex. I give a little cry. His touch is fire on my already inflamed clit.
“Beth, Beth, Beth,” he murmurs. “It’s OK. Stay still.”
But how can I? It’s exquisite – all those sensations he evokes within me. I writhe and arch my back.
His fingers curl around my clit, parting my thighs and the wedges of my sex. I’m extremely wet down there, and he dips into this wetness and smears it all around the folds and contours of my sex. His finger latches onto the hood of my clit. I contort my body with the wonderful agony of it.
He applies an unrelenting pressure as he massages my clit. My hands dive to cover it – so intense is the erotic pleasure –
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