Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Azrael
Watching her via the hidden cameras has become my favorite pastime. I have the app on my phone, and every time I’m in my office, I’ve become obsessed with turning my attention toward her.
She’s become a distraction. The perfect distraction from a world of corruption.
My little slave doesn’t realize the hold she has on me. She’s entrapped me as much as I have her.
I’ve never taken note of anyone the way I do her. Every move she makes I calculate to memory.
The way she concentrates as she reads, and her chest rising and falling with each breath has my body burning with anticipation.
Does she realize how truly captivating she is?
She nestles farther down into the blanket, and I kick myself for having it in there in the first place.
Are her nipples pebbled beneath my shirt? Can she still smell me? Does she realize the stain on the bottom is from my pre-cum, evidence of my ever-present arousal?
Her cheeks pinken, and her eyes dart around the room as if she’s embarrassed.
What the hell is she reading?
Leaning forward, I zoom in on the screen but can’t make out the name of the book. But with the way her heart is pounding almost out of her chest, forcing her tits to rise, has my cock twitching with intrigue.
My dirty little slave wants to be reminded of her place.
I push my chair away from my desk, allowing me enough room to unbuckle my belt, then I slide my zipper down and pull my throbbing cock from my boxers.
Is she thinking of me while reading the book?
A surge of jealousy has my chest contracting as I consider her reading about a fictional man, and I hate the fact that I’m experiencing something similar to jealousy over a fucking book.
Jesus, Azrael, pull yourself together.
She licks her lips and glances around the room again, and I imagine those lips around my girth and her choking on every inch I force her to take. Her nails would dig into my skin, leaving marks of her own behind while I ignore her struggle and push forward, reveling in the wetness between us.
With my hand fisting my cock, I spit onto the tip and watch in fascination as it trickles down my fingers, creating a lubricant that will have to suffice since she isn’t readily available to me.
What makes her mouth and spittle more enjoyable compared to everything else? And why is my own spit a poor substitute now?
I could have her now if I wanted her. She’s my slave to do with as I see fit. I bought her.
Though, my mind darts back to the basement yesterday; she’ll be sore, and I don’t want her to hate me.
And after the day I’ve endured, I know I’d lose control.
She deserves more than that.
She deserves the control I pride myself on.
My fist works faster, tightening on each upward stroke.
“That’s it,” I grit out, and her chest rises, so I close my eyes to imagine her tits bouncing in my face. My mouth captures her nipple, and I tug it into my mouth, sucking hard. Her fingers drag through my hair, drawing me closer while her moans of pleasure fill my ears.
I pump my cock harder.
Faster.
My balls ache, filling with a need to spill my warm cum.
I’d slam inside her, causing her to scream, and bite into her plump flesh, marking her tit before moving on to the next.
My eyes snap open, and I stare at the screen. The way she swallows has pre-cum sliding down my shaft.
“Such a perfect little toy to ruin.” I groan and imagine holding her nipple between my lips and sucking to the point of pain.
She whines and tries to push me away, but I remain planted deep inside her, forcing her ass cheeks apart with my thick hands as I push a finger from each hand deep inside her asshole.
“That’s it, little slave. You’re being thoroughly fucked.
Like the perfect toy I purchased you for. ”
A shiny object in her hand catches my eye, stopping my movements.
“What the fuck is that?”
My arousal dissipates as realization takes over.
She has the shard of glass from the day I smashed the mirror in the room.
Then she throws another glance toward the door, confirming my suspicions.
She’s going to run.
All-out fury has me erupting from the chair, sending it toppling to the floor as I tuck my cock away, buckle up my belt, and rush from the room.
I’m going to fucking kill her.
The library is on the floor above, and when my bodyguard steps forward, I give my head a shake and head up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
My blood pressure spikes with each second ticking by.
Does she really think she can run from me?
How far would she get?
“You’re mine, Little Toy, nobody takes what belongs to me,” I growl.