Page 8 of Sold to Her Enemy

Oh God, what a way to screw up even more, Mckenna.

“Try again,” he says, pressing the water bottle against my mouth. I can’t do anything other than drink; all my strength is suddenly sapped out of me. Tears roll down my cheeks.

His expression is hard as stone. “Is it so awful, Mckenna? At least you know me. It’s not some stranger touching you.” His lips are so close to mine, but he doesn’t kiss me.

“I’d rather have a stranger,” I bite out. A shiver of fear rolls down my spine, coupled with white hot need. As much as I hate this man, I can’t control how my body responds to him.

“A stranger won’t treat you like I will.” He pulls my hair again, tilting my throat up. “A stranger might be too kind to you.”

“Kind?” I squeak out the word. My pussy clenches, betraying me, my pulse races.

His gaze is so dark and predatory.

“Yes, kind, which is what you don’t deserve. You deserve to be treated as the piece of meat you told everyone you were.” He picks up his glass and sips it.

For a half-second, I want to throw my arms around him and beg him to look at me, to remember when we were kids racing through my dad’s library.

But those days are long gone, a memory that fades each day as I wake up in a one-bedroom apartment with my mother.

His smirk makes me so angry I want to hurl myself at him. I clench my hands into fists, trying to spit out a curse, but it comes out in a shriek of frustration.

“Cute little hellion,” Adrian’s tone deepens.

His mockery is too much.

“Fuck you!” I beat my fists against his muscled chest. I grab at his shirt, trying to rip it off him.

“Stop it, Mckenna. It’s wholly unbecoming of you,” he casually grips my hands in his, applying steady pressure to my wrists. “Let go.”

“Not until you behave.” I smell his woodsy cologne, see the ring of gold around his eyes as his gaze sears into mine and my nipples harden more as electricity sparks between us.

“I hate you,” I spit at him but the spittle doesn’t reach him, it drips down my chin.

Adrian transfers my wrists to a one-handed grip as he drags a finger along my chin. “You’re so adorable, all angry. But I will make you suffer, Mckenna.” He scoops up my spit with his index finger and my stomach tightens as he swipes his finger along my nose.

My mouth goes bone dry as my skin heats up even more. My pussy throbs with need.

“I don’t care. This weekend, you are mine, and you will do everything I say. I hope you were honest in that interview because we will do every single thing you consented to at least once.”

Those kinks I have enjoyed consensually and each time, with a partner who checked in with me every step. I’ve been lucky with my sexual experiences.

It’s the theme of my current life: my luck has run out. I try to speak, but only a guttural sound comes out of my lips. My breath hitches as he presses his fingers against my wrist. “No,” I manage to squeak out the word.

“Oh yes. Mckenna, I’m not the monster you think I am. Before we go any further, I want to hear it from you. Do you still wish to proceed? Do I have your consent to use you in all the ways I want to, based on what you told Club Lust?” Adrian drops my wrists.

The room spins underneath my feet. “Oh... I don’t-.”

I grasp the counter and force myself to take a breath.

“Tell me,” his touch is fire against my cheek. So many times I have daydreamed about him touching me, kissing me, but not like this and not now.

Adrian McIntyre was like a brother to me throughout my entire life. When my car broke down on the interstate, and I was going to be late for my final, I called my mother, who told me to call the car service. I was on hold with them when Adrian showed up and gave me a ride.

When I was trying to study, and Ava and her friends were making too much noise, teasing me about being a bookworm, Adrian calmly locked the dining room doors, keeping his sister and her friends out.

This man had shown up for me many times, including watching us when our parents went to a red carpet event.

He listened to me reel off the anatomy and vitals of equines and cell biology facets. Adrian encouraged me to apply to Tufts University when my mother seemed disinterested and my father, as usual, was too wrapped up in his own scientific pursuits. I might not have applied if it wasn’t for him and Grace.

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