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Buying the Virgin

The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Thirty

… My Master slips hands into the neckline of the dress, slipping the tiny buttons apart until the halter falls away.

He continues. “And yet, despite your now having no obligation to do so, you return to me, time and again....”

He glides the zip of the dress slowly down at the back until it opens, then falls to my feet, leaving me naked. I see him standing behind me, tall and dark, his face half-shadowed by in candlelight. His hand circles my waist again, pulling me in close to him.

“…. You keep returning to me Charlotte, and we make love, and we fuck. You accept every challenge I set you…….”

He stands so close behind me, the bulge of his erection pressing against my back through his clothing.

“……. You kneel at my feet, and you call me ‘Master’.” He kisses the side of my face again. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

“Master?”

From beyond the room, there is the click of a lock, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing again. Footsteps, then “James? Charlotte?”

“In here, Michael.” calls my Master.

In the mirror, I stand, my Master behind me, his gaze locked to mine in the glimmering reflections, embracing me at the waist with one hand, palm flat against my stomach, holding me close to him, so close. The other hand grazes the contours of my face and neck, cups a breast, then glides south to the vee of my loins.

I see myself, naked, my chest rising and falling, as my Master’s touch works its magic, my arousal blooming, desire pooling in my belly, my pussy warming and moistening.

He watches me, knowing what he is doing to me.

And now, Michael is here, my Bright Star. He steps into the room, and I see his eyes, in the mirror, also meet with my Master’s.

“Change of plan, Michael,” he says shortly. “We won’t be going out this evening.” Fingers are working through my dampening curls, scissoring between my lips to my clit. His eyes still on Michael, I see something pass between them, then Michael strips off his shirt, removes his shoes.

My hips beginning to judder, my heart to race, I am seized from behind. Both hands clasped around my waist, my Master lifts, then pulls me backwards towards the bed. He sits, propped on the edge of the bed, cradling me from behind, as Michael drops to his knees and parts my legs.

Face dipping between my thighs, he continues the work my Master started, lapping at my bud, as it swells and sensitises. Slipping it from its fleshy sheath, he works me with the very tip of his tongue. I moan and pant and quiver, as he winds magic circles around my clit.copy right hot novel pub

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