He was saying filthy, carnal things and as much as Celeste wanted to rage at every word that came out of his mouth, her traitorous pussy was lubricating in response to his threats and the hot tingling of her ass.
She had come to his territory as one of the highest status women in the system, and now she was being treated just like the other women who had become spoils of war and paraded around Vector Prime in their collars and their nudity. Pet. Even thinking the word made a tremor run through her stomach.
Fear and arousal seemed to be entwined as she bucked and squirmed over his muscular thighs, his palm punishing her with hard, repetitive slaps that showed no signs of slowing or softening.
She hated Alistair with every fiber of her being, and that hatred filled and excited her. She was surprised to find that there was a freedom in that hatred, a freedom to be whatever she wished to be. For years she had been forced to be appropriate and polite and appear in ways which advantaged her father and furthered his goals. No matter how uncomfortable or angry she’d been, she’d put on a smiling face and made polite conversation.
The time for polite conversation was long over. It did not matter what Alistair thought of her. He was the enemy. The enemy whose hard, unyielding palm was still slapping her bottom so fast she barely registered each slap as a separate thing. Keep reading…