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I touched his thigh.

His hand snapped forward, his fingers wrapping around my smaller wrist. My breath stuttered to a stop. My heart hammered with no control. The first touch pushed me over the edge, and I was falling…falling in the deep, dark abyss.

His hold tightened, and I knew that with a single touch, he could easily break my wrist. But he didn’t.

I felt his eyes on me. My skin burned from his intense gaze, and I was so very tempted to look up…to stare into his eyes.

His thumb pressed against the inside of my wrist, and without realizing it, my head moved upward.

Our eyes met.

And the world stilled.

I was robbed of my words. I was robbed of my thoughts.

Everything and everyone froze…nothing mattered.

Only our eyes, gazing into each other. I could see my reflection in his pale grey eyes.

My naked body was visible through his eyes, and everything ended.

I saw my shame, his eyes a mirror to my soul.

I could see me…a dirty slave. Owned by another man.

With one look, just like seconds ago, everything froze…my world shifted and tilted. Reversing and finding its place again.

For a brief moment, I had forgotten who I was. But I saw myself through his eyes, and it was enough reminder.

This man wasn’t my Prince Charming.

And I wasn’t his sweet love.

He was a Master.

I was a slave.

And I had a job to do. A command to follow. A man to please.

Then I would return back to my place, next to my Master’s feet with my mouth full of this man’s cum.

I licked my lips. His eyes followed my movement, and I knew I had his full attention.

With ease and after countless times of doing this, I blinked up at him. My stomach rolled, yet I kept my focus on the task.

But being the Devil, he played with my mind again. He pulled me into his trap again.

Instead of just pushing my face against his crotch and forcing me to take his manhood like all the others, he leaned down.

His head was next to mine, his nose slightly touching my jaw. The softest touch, so sensual…so beautiful…so right.

His nose trailed down a small path, touching my jawline and my neck. I felt his breath against my skin, causing a slight shiver.

When he breathed me in, my eyes fluttered closed.

Why did I not feel repulsed by his touch? This man was affecting me…changing everything I had ever known.

My world and his were crashing together, the lines aligning and fitting together without our permission.

He dragged me closer. His thighs spread wider to accommodate me. My body pressed against his, and I melted in his embrace.

In this moment, nothing else mattered. Not the depravity of this action, nor the disgust I felt just seconds ago.

He shifted slightly, and our eyes met again. We stared silently at each other. His gaze held nothing…it was empty. A black void. Mine spoke everything loudly.

Could he see my truth? My reality?

Did he care?

Our gaze broke apart when he leaned down again. His lips touched my skin, placing kisses along the path of my neck to my ear. My body felt warm and flushed, a strange feeling building up in the pit of my stomach.

When was the last time someone touched me so gently? When was the last time a man kissed me so softly?

He nipped gently at my earlobe, and I almost gasped. His touch was so featherlight, making me want more.

He teased me, and I craved more.

“You look like an Angel…so fucking exotic,” he whispered roughly in my ear.

I shivered, a slight tremble that I knew he would notice immediately.

But there was no stopping it. His words changed everything. The same deep, rough voice as before. This man who was holding me…was the same who refused me.

You look like an Angel…so fucking exotic.

An Angel?

He thought of me as an Angel?

My cheeks heated, and my body tingled.

Nobody had ever called me an Angel before.

I was slave to everyone else.

But this stranger…this Devil called me Angel.

Instead of ripping my soul apart, he was giving me pieces of myself.

So I would return him the favour in the only way I knew how.

As soon as his fingers released me, I moved to his zipper. My eyes avoided his, not wanting to see my lost dignity in his.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

He knew the answer, yet he wanted me to speak. Something I was forbidden to do. I only replied to Master, and until he gave me permission to speak, I was not allowed to utter a single word.

My Master was strict with his own rules. Fear slithered down my spine, but yet again, I pushed it away.

I broke a second rule.

“Let me serve you, Master,” I whispered so softly, for his ears only.

The moment the words were out of my mouth, he started to unbuckle his belt. Instinctively, I licked my lips again.

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