screams when the President slaps her so hard, the sound ricochets in the room.
I step in front of Emilia and drop my pants. I fist her hair. Her lips are quivering. I can barely look at her eyes. "You will take all of me. Now, submit." I push her toward my dick, and she slides it into her mouth.
I hate myself more at this moment. It's the only thing I can do to shield her from the President's actions. And it's on the list of tasks I must make her do tonight. The orders were another man or me.
And no one will ever touch her.
But it doesn't stop the guilt. I don't know if Emilia has ever done this before. When we were together, I couldn't keep my hands off her. I got off more on giving her pleasure than anything, so my focus was always on her.
Her mouth is so sinfully delicious, I loathe myself further. It's better than I imagined it would be. And as I'm expected, I guide her momentum on me, never letting go of her hair. And the temptation is too much. I strum my other hand on her breast, playing with her nipple until she's moaning and drowning out the sounds behind me.
The room is getting louder. I don't need to look behind me. Every sexual act possible is happening.
I talk to her in French, hoping to show her I haven't forgotten who we are. But I only make it dirty since others can hear me.
The smell and sounds of fornication and heat of her touch make my blood boil. The President groans behind me.
Goodbye. Get away from my woman.
I need to finish this so I can check the box.
I close my eyes, unable to stop enjoying what ma belle is doing to me.
"Your mouth will be on my cock soon," the President growls.
I open my eyes and look down. He's kneeling next to her, his mouth near her ear, and she shudders.
"Look at me. I am your Master, not him," I bark.
Emilia obeys, with more tears dripping down her cheeks.
I increase her speed and speak in French. "My cock is the only cock you will ever have in your mouth. I own you. You are my property. No other man or woman will ever lay a finger on you."
Determination enters her eyes. Her throat opens more. With one hand, she digs her fingernails into my ass, then grabs my balls and massages them while never taking her eyes off mine.
I explode in her mouth. She doesn't flinch and sucks me until I'm dry. When it's over, I pull her up by the armpits.
I've wanted to kiss her all night. I want to tell her how proud of her I am for doing this fucked-up shit and excelling at it. I crave to get her alone and out of this room.
She glances at my lips, but it's too soon. I haven't broken her yet. Until she breaks and begs me until she's hoarse, I can't give her anything. And I need her to hate me again, or she's going to give in too soon.
I see ma belle. She knows I'm here. The situation required me to make sure she understood we are more durable than the evil in this room, and my love for her is unwavering. But now I must destroy her.
My stomach twists. I move her away from the President and to the wall. The restraints are already in place. I place her wrists and ankles in the cuffs. There are spikes on the insides. My stomach pitches some more, and I swallow down bile.
She will go to the whorehouse then be auctioned off if I do not do this.
He will own her and ruin her beyond repair.
I widen the bars above her head and at her feet. "Stop," she cries out.
No. Don't object, ma belle.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath as the room chants, "More."
"You don't order me around," I seethe in her face. I break my promise to her that if she ever told me to stop, I would. I click both bars one inch wider, and she wails. She's on her tiptoes, barely able to stand. And I see every piece of her trust for me shatter.
My heart pounds so fast, pain shoots through it. I slip my fingers under her collar, taking up any remaining room. "I am your Master. Say it."
She defiantly glares at me with tears in her eyes.