UNDER THE GOTH LIGHTS of the chambers, Rafel emerged again from the shadows with his [Bond] in tow. The girl was too damn lush for a man's eyes, or sanity. Aya Naamah was the kind of sexy that could make a pirate, at sea for an odyssey, refuse a Viking's loot for the chance of a night with her.
Rafel pulled her out of the shadows into her own luxury room by the tresses of her enchanting dark hair. Still coming off his [Hell mode] trait, Rafel was quite savage in his use of her. He tossed her around the place, making her wobble in her heels.
Rafel dragged her to the first seat he could find; a stool by the home bar. With the way things were going, he wasn't sure they'd make it to the bed. His cock reared to be deep inside the warm slave.
"Dominus!" Aya gasped as he pushed her to the floor.
"Don't fucking look at me." Rafel turned her eyes away: he couldn't handle the violet shine of lust in them. "You cost me a soul tonight, slave, and for that you shall be punished. AS I SEE FIT!"
Aya's hair was fallen all over her face, a flood of darkness from which her pretty face was hid. Her hair was so wild and long it cascaded to her waist. Rafel roughly pushed it out from covering her enticing cleavage. "Stand up!" he growled.
Aya stood, clutching her hands together in front of her and squirming on her six-inch heels. Her body was pure sin in the midnight qipao. With her head lowered, Rafel perused her voluptuous anatomy and ran his right hand over her shoot of pear breasts and wide hips. He pinched at her nipples through the satin and Aya folded in on herself, bending her eyes further.
"You playing at shy, huh, slave? I'll teach you. Get me something to drink from your room, girl. Go! Quick!" Rafel commanded.
Aya didn't move fast enough, and he smacked her behind so hard she jumped. Aya went around to the service nook of the home bar, picking out a fine gold bottle of liqueur whiskey and walking back out. She moved again for Rafel's stool. He wagged his finger at her to come closer. She did, until the peaks of her large boobs strained for his mouth.
"Good. Offer it to me," said Rafel.
Aya popped the cork.
"Kneel," his dark voice demanded.
His beautiful, supernatural slave lowered to the gray shined floors of the chambers. "Don't look at me like I'm some barbarian pillager. You invited me into your room, slave. Look at all your swell decorations, like a philistine whore. You want this, slave."
"Dominus?"
"Shut up! I can smell your need from up here. You are as fresh oxygen to a dieing man. Crawl closer. I want your face here." Rafel pointed to the spot of the great bulge between his legs. He touched Aya's dark hair, swiping it away.
"Look at this face. . .all mine." He pored down at her gorgeous features. "This face is mine. These lips," he ran his thumb across the soft rose skin, "you are mine, Naamah, all of the beautiful you. But for your insolence tonight.
. ."
Rafel clicked his tongue, not finishing his words.
Rafel tore the slit of her qipao the rest of the way. He whipped the remnants of the expensive satin out of sight, revealing bodacious roundness of her cream butt cheeks. Rafel hissed on spying her underwear, a risky swart G-string. He dragged it down, leaving it at her knees.
Aya felt the cold of the chambers instantly hit her sex. She was moistened and primed up.
"There we are." Rafel's amber eyes went satanic on her.
He grabbed the bottle from before off the countertop, pouring from it more tasteful red ale to his slave's big booty. She went oily and her cheeks glimmered. He deviously watched the wine run down her exposed thighs. He poured intentionally in her ass crack and smacked her when her hole clenched. The wine ran down her slit, dripping from her prime pussy to the floors.
"Look at you, my succubus, such a filthy slave slut. No matter what," Rafel addressed, "don't remove those fucking hands from your ankles."
Slowly, he reached from the seat and into Aya's great wide cheeks. Pouring wine down her butt, he drank from her gaping hole. Aya trembled, and it was only his hands keeping her up. Rafel smelled her ass and licked her hole. The pleasures seeping out of her could make him forfeit a sacrament. He dipped lower, tasting her pussy, and Rafel was a gone man.
"Oh yes, slave. You smell and taste so good. This pussy is mine!"
He attacked her sex, lashing at her sweet labia and sucking on her scent. Aya was spread all over his face. The very tip of his tongue found her clit, the up-nub of all sin; he flicked it, and the girl spontaneously orgasmed in his face.
Rafel held her in place, quaking as she was, and didn't stop until he had drank all of her release.
She was one beautiful slut, but tasted and smelled hell of a lot more.
Rafel gave her booty one final smack and freed her lips. His slave crumpled to the resplendent floors, into a puddle of delicious wine and delicious woman. When she could finally speak out her thunderous climax, she held up a hand. "Dominus, I am sorry. I want no more of your punishment. This has gone to far."
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Rafel grabbed her spilling dark hair, chuckling wickedly and turning her to face him. He pushed the wet hair out her face.
"No, no, slave. I'm not done with you yet. Your Dominus demands more. Come here."
He dragged her from her crumple up to her knees and brought her close. He tore off his obsidian buck leather belt, and put it around her neck. He fastened in the style of a collar, holding it at the end as a leash. The heavy metal buckle glinted over her fair, swan neck.
Rafel patted both sides of her cheeks. She was in full bloom. He smiled darkly, "there you go, slave. I will tolerate no more stubbornness from you."
With his belt as her collar, Rafel dragged her head down to his groin. The midst of it was prominent as the Mount, Vesuvius.
"Now—" he held her leash tight. "Release me."
Since he was staring down at his risen crotch, Aya divined his meaning.