at my sides, I do as he says, keeping my gaze locked on his while he runs his hands across my body. His face gives nothing away. It’s void of any thoughts or emotions. I’d imagine most men would be wearing a look of pure unadulterated lust, but him…it’s almost as though he’s unaffected while he traces the subtle curves of my body.
He swirls his thumb around my nipple, and I gasp, recoiling away from him touch, shocked by the sensation. His gaze shoots to mine, full of ire. With a shaky breath, I step back into my original spot and allow him to resume, hating him and myself with every second that passes.
When his soapy hand slips between my thighs, I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood, holding back my tears. I expect him to take advantage of me like this, but as our gazes lock, he does a quick swipe between my legs, his fingers parting my lips and tracing down there, only slightly, before moving on to someplace else.
Once my entire body and my hair are washed and I’m humiliated beyond measure, he guides me out of the shower, with that stupid tie still secured around my throat. A chilly blast of air hits me as I follow him out of the bathroom and into a hallway. He doesn’t offer a towel to cover my nude body with. Of course not. Instead, he parades me around, every part of my body exposed for anyone to see.
My chest quakes and I dart my gaze around frantically, wondering if those men from earlier are still around here, just waiting somewhere in the shadows. Through some small miracle, it’s just us.
We slow to a stop outside of a closed door. The wood is ingrained with ornate designs, speaking to his home’s age and its character. When he pushes it open and nudges me inside, my heart skids to an abrupt halt and all the air is knocked out of me.
The floor beneath me shifts, my entire world tipping off its axis.
The room is completely empty, save for a window and a bed dead center. There’s a white fitted sheet on top. Nothing else. No comforter. No dresser, no closet full of clothes.
It’s a glorified prison.
“What is this?” I whisper.
“Your room.”
My eyes shoot to his, searching for a more concrete answer. He doesn’t give one. Instead, his hands go around my throat where he works to undo the knot of the tie. As soon as it’s off, I rub at my neck, feeling how chaffed the skin is. I inhale a deep breath, but my reprieve doesn’t last long. When he stands behind me and wraps something else around my throat, something tighter and thinner, I tense.
There’s a sound of a mechanism clicking into place and my eyes widen. My hands fly to my throat, once again, and my mouth gapes in horror when I realize what it is.
“Get this thing off me,” I demand, referring to the collar.
“I think it looks awfully good on you.”
“I want it off and I want my clothes.”
His eyes flash at my defiance.
He spins me around and twists his fist in my hair, tugging hard enough that I’m forced to look up at him. I try to ignore the way my nipples rub against the material of his suit, the way his scent clogs my airways.
“Isn’t it obvious by now? You have no say, in anything. Not anymore. You’ll wear this collar because I put it there. You’ll sleep in this bed, in the nude, because I fucking want you to. There will be no pleasantries, no comfort here.”
“You can’t keep me here,” I whisper coldly, glaring up at him. “This is against the law. This is kidnapping.”
He chuckles, his bright eyes glinting with pleasure. “You’re right, Tesoro, but do you really think I care? No one is going to come looking for you. No one is going to save you. You’re mine.”
Like too much gasoline poured on a fire, I explode in a fit of heat. “Stop saying that!” I bark, like a woman crazed.
“Or what?” he challenges.
I open my mouth, but I struggle to come up with anything.
Taking advantage of my silence, he corners me until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed and I fall back. His eyes shoot down my body, eating up the nude expanse, settling on my breasts. A shudder shoots down my spine, and goosebumps flare along my skin.
“What are