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His Personal Slave

Klaus raised his eyes and watched his slave stand still, her feet glued to the ground.

She appeared to be in a state of discomfort, and taking note of the beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, he already knew she had something to say.

He could see the words dance at the tip of her tongue, even though her lips were firmly shut, and heaving a sigh, he shook his head and arched a brow at her.

"Come here. Take a sit." He ordered, his voice echoing in the room, arresting the attention of all and sundry, including the woman in front of him and this time with his face dropped down, he made the statement without glancing up at her.

Why the fuck had she even stood like a statue or something? He was becoming a big irritated. He had only invited her over for breakfast after all.

He had seen her shiver when his gaze had borne into her back when his face had been lifted, and even then he could sense her fear.

He heard the sound of her heart beating fast, while he caught sight of her weak and
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