The following excerpt is for adult readers. By continuing to read the excerpt you are agreeing that you are at least 18 years of age and not offended by bondage & discipline erotic material.
Vicki’s heart nearly stopped in her breast. She looked and saw Ethan standing there in the doorway. At once she drew her hand from her drenched sex. Her skin burnt with embarrassment. She was too shocked to utter a word.
Ethan regarded her with his arms folded over his chest, and his brows knit sternly. With his dark, officer’s uniform, his appearance was downright intimidating. Vicki managed to sit up, but she couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze. Her back pressed hard into the back of the sofa, as if somehow she might be able to just seep into the cushion and escape. Vicki’s breath was tight as she waited for him to say something… anything…
“Busted, little lady.”
Vicki felt near to panic as he strode toward her. But he neither did nor said anything for several, excruciating long seconds. He patted the leather case on his belt where his handcuffs were kept, and with his eyes he scrutinized her. She felt utterly exposed, and close to tears with chagrin. Oh, and that she’d been caught was not all of her shame… she feared that he smelled the musk of her climax. He probably even saw the flush on her chest, and knew how her clit pulsated with tell-tale after-waves of her forbidden act.
“It is a good thing the sergeant gave me the wrong schedule for the weekend,” he said finally. “Or I would have missed out on the chance to find how very, very disobedient my little slave girl can be!”
Vicki found her voice. “Oh, sir,” she begged, praying silently for his mercy, “I was just so… very horny for you.”
“Yes,” he said flatly. “But you are my slave girl… and if perhaps, just perhaps, it is that I take satisfaction in knowing you are so aroused for me.”
Vicki didn’t know how to answer this. She knew it true, however, and she had disappointed him.
“Stand up,” he said.
Vicki complied at once, though she still couldn’t bear meeting his eyes. He unbuttoned the leather case; she shuddered to hear the soft jingle of metal as he took the handcuffs out.
“Turn around, naughty slave girl.”
©2007 Anya Howard