Enslaved Read Online Free PDF Page B

terrified of him after all.
    “You’re beautiful,” he said, slowly unbuttoning his shirt without taking his eyes off of her, as if she might get away somehow.
    “Thank you.”
    Trevor reached for the nipple ring she wore in her left breast, giving it a slight tug that sent a ripple of pleasure through her. “You mean, thank you Sir .”
    Elisabeth smiled. There was no need to worry. As long as he took charge, she’d be safe with him. Gregory told her so and she trusted that, at least. Breathe. This was going to be fun.
    “Yes, my mistake. Thank you, sir.” Oh hell, he had an amazing body underneath that fancy shirt. Muscles, tight and tan, his abdominal muscles striated and so fucking hot.
    Trevor carefully laid his shirt on top of the dresser to avoid wrinkles, and pulled her toward him, surprising her with the sudden motion.
    Now that she stood before him barefoot, in only her panties, she had to look straight up at an unnatural angle to see his face.
    “How tall are you, sir?”
    Trevor reached up between her thighs, sliding his fingers past the elastic on her panties. Would he notice the cheap material?
    He smiled. “You’re wet for me.”
    “I can’t help it, sir, I apologize.” Her own desire embarrassed her. She’d rather be the sort of sub who focused solely on her Dom’s needs. Getting hot and bothered made her feel . . . dirty, almost.
    “I don’t want you to help it.” He lifted her off the floor, holding her against his bare chest. His incredibly muscular, hard bare chest. Her breath caught in her throat as he gently laid her on the bed.
    “And I’m six foot four. I give every girl I’ve ever dated a neck ache within two days.”
    “Good thing I like pain,” Elisabeth mused.
    Trevor lifted both her legs with one large hand and swatted her bottom once, hard. “We’re not dating. A sex-slave is not a girlfriend. And I’m going to give you some very lovely pain tonight, if you want it.”
    “Yes, sir. You know I want it. May I take off my underwear?”
    His words about her not being a girlfriend should have stung, and maybe that’s why he said them. But they didn’t. She wasn’t silly enough to think that just because he’d invited her to stay at his home so he could have 24/7 access to her body meant that she’d become the next Mrs. Brooks. And yes, she knew there had been one before.
    Apparently Trevor wasn’t interested in marriage. But a collar? Would he ever let her wear his collar, if she pleased him enough?
    “Take them off,” he ordered, and she almost tore her panties in her hurry to remove them. If only he would take off his pants and underwear too . . . she glanced at his pants, wondering if he’d get the hint, but either he didn’t or he didn’t care to undress further.
    “I like your choices,” he said. “We’re going to have fun with these, including the one you’d rather avoid. I think I can guess which one, but don’t tell me.”
    She didn’t answer, just spread her legs, revealing her fresh Brazilian wax. The Korean lady who waxed her always got a big tip—money from Gregory, since she had none of her own.
    Trevor ran his finger along her wet slit, smiling as if in appreciation. “Is it cliché if I tell you your pussy looks like a fresh peach?”
    “Totally cliché, sir. It’s all right, though, I don’t mind.”
    He fastened one end of the spreader bar to her ankle, forcing her legs even wider, until her other ankle could be secured on the opposite end. With her legs spread wide open, she felt completely exposed and vulnerable.
    Which of course, only made her hotter for him.
    “Nipple clamps for fifteen minutes, by my phone’s timer,” he said, as if he were a doctor prescribing her medicine. Which, in a way he was. Pain was her medicine, the only kind that worked. As long as he understood that about her, they’d get along just fine.
    “Yes, sir.” The first clamp bit into the tender peak on her breast, reigniting the pain she felt when