Page 19 of Sold to Her Enemy

A fresh wave of wetness seeps between my legs, setting off a new spark of desire low in my belly.

I push thoughts away of what could have been and focus on the moment here, of his firm grip against my face, his gaze so cool it makes me shiver.

I bite down hard because I can’t tell him I wanted him, too.

Adrian lifts his hand from my face and traces my jaw with a fingertip. “Do you like being gagged?”

My belly sinks to the floor. “No, Sir.”

“Noted. It’s time to inspect my piece of property. Stay standing like that unless I tell you otherwise.”

He turns from me and puts on a pair of purple nitrile gloves.

A quiver slithers through my hips. The desire is a low burning flame. I gasp. as he strides toward me.

“Did you clean yourself very thoroughly in the shower, Mckenna?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” With light fingertips, he touches my forehead, and then, with light tapping, he covers every inch of my face, stopping at my nose.

“You’re a hundred percent positive that you are squeaky clean?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“If I find you too dirty of a slut you will be punished, Mckenna. Not that I need a reason, do I?”

The way he is looking at me, with heat in his dark eyes. “No Sir,” I whisper.

“That’s right.” So quickly I can’t react. He spanks my right ass cheek, the sound of his gloved hand hitting my flesh echoes in the cavernous room.

“That’s right, isn’t?” He spanks my other cheek, and it sparks to life the pain of the earlier spanking. I can’t help it. I tilt forward.

“You like to be spanked?” he asks, pushing me back up with an open palm.

“Not really,” I murmur.

“Are you sure?” He flicks my beaded nipple. It spreads heat through my breasts, turns the simmering fire up, and I gasp.

“Spanking is fine, but I need more than that.” I close my eyes at the admission.

He presses a finger against my lip. The feel of the nitrile is waxy and I tremble, my body hums with need.

“Yes, you do, my cockwarmer.” He flicks my other nipple, then takes both my breasts in his hands and squeezes them until I gasp.

My entire body is burning now, awake again with desperate need.

“Look, is there any dirt on this glove?” He holds his glove up for me to see.

“No, Sir.”

“Good. But I don’t think you’ve been truthful, Mckenna. I don’t think you are clean.”

He slides his hands down along my sides, then holds an index finger under my nose.

“What’s that in my glove?”

“I don’t know,” my voice is high-pitched. The coolness and detachment he has is making me fearful, but the way he is objectifying me makes me hot.

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