Page 10 of Sold to the Enemy

Selma took a deep breath, but she chickened out. “Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Drago reached out and took hold of her wrist. “Don’t lie to me, Selma. There is no reason to. Just tell me what’s on your mind?”

Selma couldn’t help but glance toward the corners of the room where guards stood. She didn’t want to talk about sex with them overhearing. It was bad enough they might have heard her mention she was a virgin just the other day.

“Leave us,” Drago said.

Selma didn’t know if she wanted them to leave because at least they did provide protection against her own mouth vomit.

There was no protest.

Drago was the boss.

She was at his mercy.

“Talk to me,” Drago said.

She pressed her lips together and frowned.

You don’t want to have a bad marriage.

You don’t want to live in a nightmare.

Don’t fight him.

Don’t make him hate you.

“Last night, you … left me in my bedroom. Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Was I … awful?” With each question she asked, she felt her cheeks start to deepen red.

Nibbling her lip, she glanced down at her hands, which were clasped together within her lap. Drago got up and moved toward her. She didn’t look up, nor pay him any attention.

He reached out and placed a finger beneath her chin, and tilted her head back. She looked into his beautiful blue eyes and expected to see anger or annoyance, but there was none of that.

“You did nothing wrong, my sweet. You told me you were a virgin, and I know you’ve been protected your whole life. Your father’s only mistake was taking you to that party, where I attended. No one knew of your existence. He kept you safe and made sure no one told his secret.”

This made Selma frown. She had met a lot of people over the years. How had her father made it so no one knew who she was? Did she even want to know the answer?

“Last night I gave you your first orgasm and I know that can be … overwhelming. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Trust me, Selma, I want to fuck you and make love to you, and show you everything you’ve been missing. I will not scare you.”

He was being a gentleman. This didn’t make any sense. Her father had always referred to Drago as the worst kind of evil scum, and so many other words.

Drago was being nice, kind, and sweet. There was no way she could hate him.

“I’m not afraid,” she said.

She didn’t know if that was a lie or not.

Was she afraid?

Not of Drago.

Of her body? Maybe.

All she knew was that Drago intrigued her and she wanted to explore so much with him.

Drago cupped her cheek and then ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “Tell me, my sweet, what do you want?” he asked.

To Selma, that felt very much like a loaded question. What exactly did she want? Was it quite so clear-cut and black and white? Was it simple? Was there an easy answer?