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...
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
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
naughty slave girl."