My Master's Brother Ch. 10.1

Author's note: I changed some of the story up a bit for more focus on Noah. Here is a new chapter I added in.

Despite exhaustion, I struggled to sleep. The red dot--the camera he used to watch me--was the only light in the room. It was doubtful my glare at it did little more than humor Noah's masochistic ego. I would have slept, but my cold skin, the ache in my bound wrists bound behind my back, and the hard floor prevented the rest. Instead, I whimpered into the darkness and yanked against the chain that kept me close to the wall. Not that I wanted him to return, but I wouldn't lay there broken.

Only after I'd calmed, did he return. The bright, overhead light was near blinding. My eyes blinked into focus the man who entered, dressed in an expensive suit--god how I loved that look on a man. Despite my hatred for him, I couldn't help but ogle Noah. He was handsome, reeking of the sort of masculinity that would have most women dropping to their knees willingly. It must have infuriated him that I wouldn't.

"Present yourself to me," he ordered, crop clasped in his left hand.

I rolled so my back was to him. The whistle of the crop was accompanied by a sting to my thigh. Had the gag not been in my aching mouth, I would have told him to fuck himself.

"Slave." Despite the dominant tone, he seemed calm. Had it been Marshal, I may have obeyed. But something inside knew Noah was nothing like my ex. I wasn't going to be beaten for this. At most, that crop might land a few more times. So what reason did I have to submit to this humiliation?

Another swat landed on my backside, but I only curled tighter. The light turned off and he left. Only at that point did I realize my need to pee. But that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Eventually, I was able to fall asleep, but it must have only been for a few minutes before the light came on and the door opened.

I winced from the ache of being awoken too early.

"Slave," Noah called.

Refusal to acknowledge him wasn't an option. I had to pee, not to mention thirsty. To my own disgust with myself, seeing him was a relief. So I rolled onto my knees to kneel before him. This time, soft, black athletic pants and defined abs greeted me. The leather flap of the crop tapped beneath my chin and forced my stare upward to his messy, dark hair and captivating eyes. Not to mention the despicable smirk.

The crop lowered, then the swat to my cunt brought a whimper into the gag, and reminded me of my urgency to pee.

"Present yourself to me."

I tried to look away as I arched my back.

"Eyes on mine." Another swat.

I obeyed, getting into position, and watching his gaze rove over my body.

He removed the gag from my mouth. That alone provided more relief than I could have imagined. But the touch turned to a caress as he guided tufts of hair from my face.

"I would let you suck my cock, but I'm certain you need to relieve yourself." He spoke as though it would be a privilege to suck the firm bulge in front of my face.

"Not interested," I spat, receiving a swat to my thigh.

"I didn't give you permission to speak. Apologize for your disrespect." He reached down to the gag.

"I'm sorry."

Another swat.

"Master," I muttered the word, hating it.

He unhooked the chain from the wall, and stepped around me to remove the bindings from my hands.

"Relieve yourself. Once that is done, I will have a cup and toothbrush for you at the sink, then you're going to bathe and I will shave you."

I obeyed and went to the corner, unconcerned that he listened as I peed. Watching as he went to the shower to turn it on before leaving. After I'd finished, I looked to the open door. Darkness was beyond. Before I had the chance to spy past the door, he stepped into the light.

"If you want to be entertainment for the club, by all means, try to run. I was only gentle because it was your first time in non-consent hall."

I should have known the prick would tease me with escape. The only choice I would have to escape him would be by gaining his trust. He would probably expect that, though.

I went to the sink, forcing down two glasses of water before using the toothbrush, silently cursing the man who watched me. Once I was finished, I turned to the shower. No steam--the bastard planned on giving me a cold shower. But the expression on his face made clear he didn't give a damn about my comfort.

"Hot showers are earned, Slave." He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door before bringing me a bar of soap. "This is a soap and shampoo bar."

I sucked in a deep breath at the sting of the icy water on my shoulder as I stepped in. This was a nightmare. So cold. So bitterly, miserably cold. But at least it was a shower. I lathered and scrubbed. Instead of Jonah's coconut fragrance, Noah's soap bar was Jasmine. Not like the cheap suave wash scented like jasmine I used. This white bar smelled like I sat surrounded by jasmine, and as I washed, pedals occasionally slid from the bar.

Had he been to my home and discovered how much I liked Jasmine? Or had this been chance that he chose the smell I loved the most? Not that it mattered, he'd still imprisoned me. He still threatened to let the people of the club abuse me should I ever attempt escape. Whether the jasmine was for me or not, he was fucked up. But I couldn't ignore the refreshing smell that distracted from the cold water.

Once I had finished, still trembling as I looked to him as he turned off the shower, he came from behind with a plush, warm red towel and wrapped me. Warm, it was so warm. He was so warm. I melted against him. The closeness brought my attention to the erection pressed to my hip. Was the man always hard? The thought had my mind wandering to how he would have my body, sending a flutter through me.

"Too bad you misbehaved earlier." His hand crept between my legs gliding along my moistening slit. "Because I've been fantasizing about the way you bite your lip when I make you cum." Fingers dipped into me. The throb that centered in my core brought a whimper. I hated myself for wanting this man's touch. The way he could have his way, but still satisfy me. Marshal never cared whether I had an orgasm. He'd never even let me own jasmine soap since he didn't like the smell.

"How shall I punish you, little Slave?" As his fingers scooped deeper, his cock pressed at my back.

"Fuck me," I breathed, turning my head toward where his teeth grazed my shoulder.

He chuckled. "That's a reward." Another firm stroke. "Turn around."

I obeyed, heart hammering as our gazes locked.

His erection slid along my entry, hitting my clit and sending me into desperation. "Use your wetness to jack me off." Several times he guided himself along my slick, each time increasing my want. When he stopped, I whimpered at the loss, but gripped his cock, and began to stroke it.

He gasped then slowly let out a moan. "Good, little Slave." Both his hands cupped my face as he pressed his lips firm against mine. Raw passion tormented my mouth as he claimed it as his own. And right now, feeling this want, I was his, I needed to be his. As did the parts of me suffering the torment of his inattention.

I rubbed more of my drenching excitement from between my legs, taking the time to touch myself before his hand slithered into the way to slowly stroke me. There we stood, both pleasuring the other as he owned my mouth with his.

"God I want to cum inside your perfect cunt."

And I wanted the same. As my pleasure began to peak, he removed his hand. "No," I begged, "Fuck me, Master." I didn't give a damn about calling him my master if it meant I could have release.

He pinched both my nipples, almost sending me to orgasm with the sensation. "You disobeyed me."

I whimpered as I continued to jack his cock. The circles his thumbs traced over the peaks of my breasts caused another desperate whimper.

"Please."

"No. On your knees and present yourself, Slave."

I dropped onto my knees. At least I could touch myself that way.

"Hands clasped behind your back," he barked the order before fisting my sopping hair. "Eyes on mine." The moment our gazes met, he scowled. "If you wanted your release, you should have greeted me properly." His manhood parted my lips as he used my mouth as a sheath. "You're lucky I let you have this." He pulled out and pumped slightly deeper into my throat, just short of causing me to gag.

Some men might take the opportunity to ram deep and hard, but not Noah, he seemed to love the slow, deep glides into my mouth, adding in the tease of his fingers combing into my hair and gentle pressure to my nipples. All arousing me into a desperation that would receive no gratification. And yet I relished the torment. The need for more that I wouldn't receive. The love of the refusal. The love of being at his disposal, because even locked in here at his whim, I had more than I'd ever had with Marshal.

The affectionate glances made my resolve to hate him all the harder. As did the pads of his fingers gently tangling into my wet hair and press at my scalp as he directed me; suck harder, use your tongue, take me deeper. He may have slowed to a snail's pace, but that couldn't stop the orgasm he attempted to draw out. When the moment arrived, he went deep in my throat and held me by the crown of my head as cum shot down my throat.

He hummed his satisfaction. "You're too good at that, Slave. I may have to reward you after I shave that pretty cunt and feed you dinner."