Accidental Slave

Accidental Slave

Claire Thompson

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Elizabeth Martin knew the guy she’d beat out of a high-powered job was jealous of her success, but she never dreamed the lengths to which he’d go to get his revenge. Cole quickly realizes the slave girl he bought at auction has no clue and even less interest in BDSM…or so she says.

 
PUBLISHED BY: Romance Unbound Publishing
ISBN:
PUBLICATION DATE: 2009
WORD COUNT: 77682
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 5 5 5 5 5
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotica, Romantic Fiction
KEYWORDS: BDSM, sub Dom, submission, dominance, sex slave, D/s
 

EBOOKS BY Romance Unbound Publishing

EBOOKS BY Claire Thompson

 
EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT Claire Thompson/2009

It was after two but Cole was wide awake. He was sitting in the dark, staring out at the New York City skyline that lit the sky, but all he saw was her. She’d passed out completely when he laid her on the bed. He thought about just leaving her as she was after removing her high heels, but decided she’d be more comfortable out of that very expensive-looking evening gown.

Was that really the only reason he’d stripped her to her panties? Well, maybe not, but after all, he had bought and paid for her at the auction, and received nothing so far for his money. Presumably in the morning when she awoke and, hopefully, came to her senses, she be stripping for him anyway. She’d allowed herself to be auctioned off—she must know being naked was part of the deal, sex or no sex.

He hadn't been prepared for how truly lovely she was beneath the sheath of her gown. He’d told himself he wouldn’t take off her bra, but she wasn’t wearing one. Her perfect breasts were soft and round, tipped with enticing red nipples that rose in the cool air. He resisted the urge to flick one with his thumb—it didn’t seem right while she was dead to the world.

Carefully he rolled the sexy thigh-high stockings down smooth, shapely legs, admiring her slender ankles and pretty feet. She remained limp and inert beneath his touch.

He pulled down the covers beneath her and lifted them over her. “Elizabeth?” He leaned close to her face. She didn’t move. He took her pulse, which was strong, and listened to her breathe for a while as he gazed at her. He left the room, returning a moment later with one his nightshirts, which he placed at the end of the bed for her.

He filled the glass pitcher by her bed with fresh water and folded her gown, shawl and the stockings carefully over a chair, placing her shoes on the floor beside it. Finally, he smoothed a tendril of hair from her cheek and, with a last lingering look, left the room.

He stared unseeing out the huge picture window. “What would a lovely girl like that be doing with a jerk like that John Hunter person?” He shook his head, finding it hard to reconcile. Why was it submissive women so often ended up with men not worthy of them? He’d only been in the scene a few years himself, but it had been long enough to know there were more bully boys than true Doms out there.

Instead of treasuring their partner’s gift of submission, they took it as their right, twisting it into something abusive and obscene. He’d seen too many public scenes where men used the guise of D/s to abuse, humiliate and torture their partners. The whip became a weapon, designed to wound, instead of an extension of lovemaking, one that, when used properly, could heighten the experience of both partners immeasurably.

Was Elizabeth a true submissive? Or just, as Fred contended they “all were”, a masochistic slut out for the sensation and attention a D/s relationship might bring her.

He poured himself a brandy and sipped at it as he pondered the curious events of the night. He was hyperaware of the sleeping beauty down the hall. When he could stand it no longer, he downed the rest of his drink and stood. He would check on her once more and then force himself to go to bed.

The room was bathed in the rosy glow of a night light. She looked like an angel, her long lashes touching her cheeks, her dark hair spread over the pillow. The sheets had slid down to her waist.

His cock hardened at the sight of those bare breasts and he resisted an impulse to push the sheets down farther, exposing her long, bare legs and sheer black panties. Biting his lip, he forced himself to close the door, to walk away, to wait until the morning to use the slave girl he’d won.

 
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