Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Don’t pretend to be shy, Carmen. We both know you’re not. Don’t be difficult. The tub is almost full, and I’m sure you’re getting hungry. I’m going to help you get cleaned up.”
“I can bathe myself.” I offered a token protest, even though I knew it was useless.
“Not with those bandages,” he countered, his tone brisk and perfectly reasonable. “I’m not going to let you slip and fall while you try to keep your feet dry.”
He finished freeing the last button and wasted no time slipping the shirt off my shoulders. I tensed, expecting him to paw at my breasts.
Instead, his hands bracketed my face, trapping me in his steady stare. “Do you remember what I said this morning? I’m not going to fuck you until you’re begging for my cock. Do you believe me?”
My mind could hardly keep up with the way his operated. He didn’t seem mentally hampered by the necessity of navigating shifts in mood, whereas my moods were swinging all over the place: fear, lust, anger, and back to fear. The cycle was exhausting, sapping my energy and will to resist him.
I found myself nodding. I did believe that he wouldn’t rape me, because I understood now that he would gain no satisfaction from that simple violation. He didn’t want to only claim my body; he wanted my mind, my soul. For no other reason than to amuse himself. He’d admitted that he attained some sort of sick high from forcing my submission, and he was seeking that again.
Pick your battles, I ordered myself, finding a shred of defiant clarity. I’d gravely underestimated Stefano, and I needed time to regroup. For now, I would let him bathe me and feed me. I would endure whatever weird shit he wanted to do to make me feel sub-human, unable to take care of my own most basic needs.
But I didn’t have to beg him to fuck me. I would not break for him.
Chapter 9
Carmen
Stefano lowered me into the hot water, carefully maneuvering my body so that my feet didn’t get wet. When my weight settled on the bottom of the tub, he braced one arm behind my back and lifted my legs with the other, shifting them so that my ankles rested on either side of the faucet. The position spread me wide open, and I was grateful that the jets disturbed the water enough to mask the shameful sight from Stefano’s view.
Once he was satisfied with the arrangement of my body, he joined me in the bath, pressing his chest flush with my back under the guise of supporting my balance. His corded thighs bracketed my hips, and his strong arms were poised to wrap around me in a heartbeat, trapping me in place.
His erection was unmistakable, and he made no effort to spare me contact with the evidence of his arousal.
“Relax.” The low order ruffled my hair, but compliance was impossible.
The way we were touching was deeply intimate, but I knew the beast at my back was incapable of feeling human connection. His physical reaction to my nearness was one of pure, sadistic lust, and I couldn’t possibly relax in the arms of a monster.
He grasped my hands and guided them to either side of my body, placing them on the edge of the tub.
“Keep them there,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to lose your balance.”
I didn’t respond in any way, but I did remain frozen where he’d positioned me.
Reaching around me, he grabbed a loofa and loaded it with body wash from a pump dispenser on the wall. As he worked the lather, the scent of a salty sea breeze teased through the steamy air, reminding me of home. My family estate was located several miles inland, but I was accustomed to spending a lot of time close to the ocean.
My throat tightened, and my eyes burned. I closed them to hold back tears, and I found that this scenario was easier to endure in my self-imposed darkness. I inhaled the scent that I associated with some of the few joyful memories in my life, allowing myself to drift in the echo of happiness.
Stefano’s hand eased into my hair, twining the raven strands around his fingers. He applied the lightest pressure, his anchoring hold allowing him to control my movements without lighting up my scalp with pain. My head tipped back and to the side at his direction, and his lips explored my neck. Heated kisses alternated with the flick of his tongue. His teeth grazed my tender flesh, a promise of harsher attentions if I didn’t behave.
My pulse quickened, my skin flushing with heat that had nothing to do with the warm bath.
His low hum of approval vibrated against my throat, the sensation rolling down my body to thrum at my core.