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She moaned, the only sound she was capable of with my shaft filling her mouth. I slid into her again, and she suppressed her gag reflex.

“Good girl.” I eased my hold on her hair and massaged her scalp as I pushed into her throat.

My orgasm slammed into me, and I released my pleasure on a feral roar. I held myself deep inside her mouth for a moment before pulling back, coating he

r tongue with my cum.

“Swallow,” I snarled. “Take everything I give you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of my completion, the taste of my cum, or my crass orders that made her come apart again. As she swallowed my seed, she shuddered and tensed, moaning against my cock. I pulled free from her lips, but her hungry tongue followed, licking me clean as the last of my high faded.

I ran my fingers through her hair, murmuring words of praise. I slipped into Spanish, but she seemed too lost to care what I was saying, anyway.

Finally, I pulled away from her and turned off the Sybian. She collapsed in exhaustion, and I had to support her as I freed her wrists from the cuffs. I dropped down on one knee and claimed her mouth. The salty tang of my own release mingled with her unique flavor, an intoxicating cocktail. I didn’t mind tasting myself on her. It felt right to mark her this way, to spill my seed between her lips as she eagerly accepted everything I gave her.

After a while, I freed her from my kiss and uncuffed her ankles. When she was no longer bound, I lifted her in my arms, holding her close. I loved the feel of her pressed up against my chest, her cheek resting against me as though she felt perfectly safe and content there.

“How many times did you come?” I asked as I carried her out of the playroom.

“Oh. Um…like, five? Maybe?”

I chuckled. My kitten was very cute when she was sleepy, especially after an orgasm. I didn’t even think about punishing her for forgetting to count them.

She let out a happy sigh and snuggled into my chest. Our training session had been far more successful than I could have hoped for.

Chapter 12

Over the last week, Samantha had been very well behaved. She hadn’t begged me to fuck her yet, but I was content to wait for that a while longer. She was becoming highly skilled at sucking my cock, and I kept her drunk on pleasure, as well. It hadn’t taken me long to learn exactly how she liked to be stroked and pinched.

When she got too sassy, a sound spanking was enough to correct her. I hadn’t taken her back into the playroom, even though the idea of whipping her appealed to me.

But she’d become so terrified after our first punishment session that I couldn’t bring myself to push her that hard again. I’d resolved to earn her willing submission, and she wouldn’t surrender herself to me if I hurt her without cause. If she earned another whipping, she’d get one. Otherwise, I was content with her progress.

She allowed me to feed her and bathe her without complaint, and she snuggled close to me in the night. She hardly even complained about being kept chained to my bed anymore. She was settling into acceptance of our routine, and I always made sure to leave her with new reading material. I didn’t want my clever Samantha to get bored in my absence. I liked her smile too much to make her sad. Besides, she was much more cooperative when she was in a good mood.

Things had been going so smoothly, I hadn’t realized we were halfway to Cristian’s deadline until he summoned me to a meeting. I tried to ignore the nauseating churning in my gut as I rode my elevator down to the basement. Cristian only ever wanted to meet me here if he had gruesome plans or he wanted to bait me. Or both.

He didn’t order me to bring Samantha, I reassured myself for the dozenth time. If he intended to torture someone, at least it wouldn’t be her.

I’d sworn I wouldn’t allow him to touch her ever again, but my brother was as smart as he was sadistic. And he controlled a small army of men. If he really wanted to take my pretty captive from me, he’d find a way to do it. I’d fight for her, I’d bleed for her, but I knew the reality of the situation.

“Hermanito,” he greeted me when the elevator doors opened, his voice devoid of any brotherly warmth. “It’s good to see you.”

The only seating in the concrete room was a rigid metal chair, where Cristian liked to restrain his victims. That, or he chained their wrists and hung them from the ceiling, so his knife had better access to all parts of the body.

I barely looked at the chair. Sitting on it was out of the question.

I strode into the room, as though the pervasive smell of damp, blood, and piss didn’t make my stomach turn. I stopped several feet away from my brother, keeping a careful distance between us. I could feel his bodyguards flanking me. Their nearness at my back set my teeth on edge.

“What do you want?” I demanded. I wouldn’t play into his sick game. He could say whatever he needed to say, and then I’d leave. Maybe I’d go back to Samantha for a little while, even though it wasn’t even midday yet. Burying my cock in her hot mouth would clear the chill from my bones.

“I want to check in on Samantha Browning’s progress. How is your new toy? Have you broken her in yet?”

“You said three weeks,” I reminded him, keeping my voice as even as I could manage.

He stroked his chin, pretending to consider something. I knew from years of experience that this was something he feigned when he’d already specifically devised how to provoke me.

“Hmmm. I did say that, didn’t I? It just that I’ve been thinking. If you’re not making progress with her, I have a strategy of my own to make her cooperate.”

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