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Common Damn Sense! Publications
My Slave Lover
My Slave Lover
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PROLOGUE
New Orleans, Louisiana, 1836
Victoria watched Kamen from her bedroom window on the second story of her father's plantation manor. He was a new field hand her father's buyer had purchased at auction a few months ago.
She'd been mesmerized by his caramel-coloured skin ever since he'd been brought in through the main courtyard to the slave quarters in chains, along with a half dozen other newly purchased slaves.
Standing almost a foot above all the other men chained to him, he was hard to miss. But, that was the least of it. He was simply a beautiful man. Victoria had never thought of a man as beautiful, but there was no other word for this specimen of humanity.
Thick, curly hair -- black as night just like hers --- topped his head. Silky, jet-black eyebrows perfectly frame golden eyes that mimicked those of a tiger, which were framed by long, thick black lashes that barely masked the fury at being chained evident in their depths.
His cheekbones were so prominent that they looked as if they had been hand-hued from the agate stone that Louisiana was known for. And his lips, they were so perfectly formed that they were almost feminine, if they hadn't led the eye down to masculine squared chin and finely angled jaw-bone.
It had become her daily ritual, watching Kamen working in the sweltering heat from the bay window of her bedroom, which faced the fields the slaves toiled in daily.
Her eyes feasted on the broadness of his back, sweat pouring down the flat planes of his stomach and ripped cords that made up the muscles of his back, arms, and legs. He usually worked shirtless to beat the heat, which ironically only served to increase her body's temperature.
Her dreams were becoming a nightly occurrence, one that held her prisoner in a constant state of pent-up desire during waking hours.
How long could she fight her yearning for him?
Did he feel the same for her?
Would her dreams ever become a reality?
Chapter 1: Desire
Victoria suckled Kamen's engorged manhood greedily, taking him as deep into her mouth as she could over and over again.
With her right hand guiding his staff to its mark repeatedly and her left hand clasped tightly on his right buttock, the guttural moans escaping his beautifully sculpted throat made her suck harder and faster … faster and harder.
Kamen grabbed a handful of her thick, ebony hair and rammed his shaft into the hot cave of her mouth.
He hadn't pursued her, but if this is what master's daughter wanted, this is what he was going to give her.
More, she wanted more!
Reaching down and pulling her up, Kamen threw her on the bed and turned her buttocks to him in one smooth motion. Placing his hand squarely in the middle of her back to bend her over and expose her pink walls to him, he entered her – hard and swift.
"Aaaahhh, oh my God, take me, oh take me Kamen!"
###
Victoria sat bolt upright in her large, four-poster, canopied bed. A heavy sheen of perspiration covered her entire body.
Reaching for the water pitcher by her bedside, she doused a linen cloth with cool water and dotted her forehead.
A dream, it had just been a dream.
But not for long …
New Orleans, Louisiana, 1836
Victoria watched Kamen from her bedroom window on the second story of her father's plantation manor. He was a new field hand her father's buyer had purchased at auction a few months ago.
She'd been mesmerized by his caramel-coloured skin ever since he'd been brought in through the main courtyard to the slave quarters in chains, along with a half dozen other newly purchased slaves.
Standing almost a foot above all the other men chained to him, he was hard to miss. But, that was the least of it. He was simply a beautiful man. Victoria had never thought of a man as beautiful, but there was no other word for this specimen of humanity.
Thick, curly hair -- black as night just like hers --- topped his head. Silky, jet-black eyebrows perfectly frame golden eyes that mimicked those of a tiger, which were framed by long, thick black lashes that barely masked the fury at being chained evident in their depths.
His cheekbones were so prominent that they looked as if they had been hand-hued from the agate stone that Louisiana was known for. And his lips, they were so perfectly formed that they were almost feminine, if they hadn't led the eye down to masculine squared chin and finely angled jaw-bone.
It had become her daily ritual, watching Kamen working in the sweltering heat from the bay window of her bedroom, which faced the fields the slaves toiled in daily.
Her eyes feasted on the broadness of his back, sweat pouring down the flat planes of his stomach and ripped cords that made up the muscles of his back, arms, and legs. He usually worked shirtless to beat the heat, which ironically only served to increase her body's temperature.
Her dreams were becoming a nightly occurrence, one that held her prisoner in a constant state of pent-up desire during waking hours.
How long could she fight her yearning for him?
Did he feel the same for her?
Would her dreams ever become a reality?
Chapter 1: Desire
Victoria suckled Kamen's engorged manhood greedily, taking him as deep into her mouth as she could over and over again.
With her right hand guiding his staff to its mark repeatedly and her left hand clasped tightly on his right buttock, the guttural moans escaping his beautifully sculpted throat made her suck harder and faster … faster and harder.
Kamen grabbed a handful of her thick, ebony hair and rammed his shaft into the hot cave of her mouth.
He hadn't pursued her, but if this is what master's daughter wanted, this is what he was going to give her.
More, she wanted more!
Reaching down and pulling her up, Kamen threw her on the bed and turned her buttocks to him in one smooth motion. Placing his hand squarely in the middle of her back to bend her over and expose her pink walls to him, he entered her – hard and swift.
"Aaaahhh, oh my God, take me, oh take me Kamen!"
###
Victoria sat bolt upright in her large, four-poster, canopied bed. A heavy sheen of perspiration covered her entire body.
Reaching for the water pitcher by her bedside, she doused a linen cloth with cool water and dotted her forehead.
A dream, it had just been a dream.
But not for long …
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