AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Twelve
––––––––
Nothing that came outof his mouth boded well for her, and Kensley had been in his company long enough to know that was just the plain truth.
“What?” Kensley asked, super annoyed and confused. She just wanted to be shown to her room so she could comprehend in peace what had just happened to her.
Hunter McLeod’s presence seemed to mess with her common sense.
He ignored her and, still shirtless, strolled to an expertly carved cabinet. After a few moments, he extracted a camera, one of those instant Polaroid ones.
“Turn around.”
“I beg your par—”
“Turn around and lift the shirt.”
“Are you like, just completely insane?” she cried.
“Do you want me to make you turn around?”
Now, why, why would her pussy spasm at his words? She didn't know what was happening to her anymore. Maybe if she just humored this big Bossypants in front of her, she could leave.
She did as she was told. A snap and a whir later, he told her to turn around again and handed her the Polaroid, which she took, highly confused. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her backside, awash in red with large handprints, stared back at her. If she'd had any doubt about the last half hour of her life, the visual evidence in her hand would have set her straight instantly.
“Stick it in a book and caption it with the date and time and why you were punished.”
“You want me to scrapbook my spanking?” Was she listening to herself? At the words coming out of her mouth? Did she really just have to ask that?
“Yes. The sting in your pretty ass will fade, but this will remind you forever. Just making sure you don’t forget.”
“Oh. Of course. Aren’t you just the ultimate epitome of caring? I mean, who wouldn't love being ordered around by a chiseled man-god with a superiority complex?
Not me. I love it. And it’s not like I have better things to do with my time; I mean, I was just going to, like, maybe gouge my brains out with a fork, but you know, I will most certainly go and scrapbook my spanking instead,” she said, waving the Polaroid at him.
“You crazy, insane, overbearing—no. You know what? You should put that on a T-shirt.
Noo... Better yet,” she said, turning around and looking for her purse. She spotted it, rushed to it, and retrieved a black permanent marker after setting the Polaroid down on a table nearby. She always carried a marker with her, alongside her panic button, so she could leave behind proper clues in case something happened to her. And look, she had been kidnapped, and she would be using her marker.
Using her mouth, she bit off the cap, holding it between her teeth as she marched toward him and started to write in extra-large caps on his chest... using her marker.
Brazen.
Domineering.
