Slavemaster's Woman, The by Angelia Whiting Read Free Book Online Page A

one
steady hand he grasped her hip while the fingers on the other hand
sought entrance to her womb.
    Cushla’s breath hitched and she tensed. She
was instantly wet.
    Tarken knew then he was definitely arousing
her. He pushed a single finger inside. She yelped and attempted to
draw back but he slipped his hand from her hip and pressed it to
the small of her back to hold her still. “Let me pleasure you,
Cushla.” He slid his finger slowly inward and withdrew it just as
slowly.
    He had her. The muscles inside of her
body squeezed, and Tarken was amazed that for as many men who’d
likely fucked her, she was exceptionally tight. It was going to
feel incredible to be thrusting inside of her. Time seemed frozen
as Tarken stared into her eyes, sparkling like crystalline, they
were captivating. He was so consumed with lust for Cushla that he
never anticipated what came next, never expected the response she
gave him to his touch—never saw it coming.
    She threw her drink in his face.

Chapter Five
    No! Cushla wanted to say it aloud but
for some reason couldn’t. What was happening? It felt so good. His
touch was electrifying and she was immediately befuddled by it. She
wanted—wanted...
    His hair …There was a sleek
iridescence that sparkled along the length of his light brown hair.
It fell over him like a drape, curling subtly inward at the ends
that came to rest just past his shoulders. It looked so incredibly
smooth, soft and clean. Her fingers began to curl as she fought the
urge to touch it…and his face— Oh, why did he have to be so
alluringly handsome!
    He smelled good too…really, really good!
    Distracted by the tantalizing scent, her
brain fell into a stupor, and before realizing her actions Cushla
dropped her eyes to examine the rest of this new slavemaster.
    His chest was broad. His torso, for as much
as she could see, seemed finely honed. His hips— agh … through
his tight tan pants she could see the outline of a cock that he
made no effort to disguise. It was rigid and ready to violate
her.
    Is that how she really felt, that he was
ready to violate her? If so, then why at the moment did her pussy
seem more important than her brain?
    No! Her mind screamed out in
rebellion, but when he stepped closer to her, she was
frozen—mesmerized by his face, his eyes especially. His irises were
black and dotted with minute shimmers like stars on a moonless eve.
They pierced sharply, like a seer’s gaze, as if to burrow within
the depths of her mind, and she wanted them to!
    Something had stirred low, just at the level
of her pubic bone but deep inside. At first, Cushla didn’t
understand it. She’d never felt this sensation before. But it took
no more than the length of a breath for her to realize it was
desire!
    No, no, no!
    If she had to get him to beat her into
bloody half-consciousness before he fucked her, she would rather
have that than to enjoy a forced seduction. Enjoy? Cushla
hated sex, hated to be touched, hated the feel of a man’s penis
pushing inside of her. The thought made her ill. Irritation with
her abandoned response to the slavemaster caused Cushla’s nostrils
to flare. She inhaled—and panicked.
    The vulnerability she felt in the presence
of this man was immediately deciphered by her common sense, and she
would resist it at all costs. Even if the cost meant more bruises
or scars to her already battered body. That would be so far better
than enjoying sex with him!
    Enjoy? That damned word again! Cushla
really wanted to know what part of his lame brain was vacationing
elsewhere. There was nothing about captivity to be enjoyed!
    Blinded by the unruly and surprising
sensations thrumming their way inside of her, Cushla panicked.
Without thinking about the consequences, without full understanding
of the punishment her reaction might bring, Cushla did the only
thing she could think of to stop him—There it was. Of its own
brainless accord, her arm thrust upward— it was if the liquid left
the glass