been used and degraded, and I have no right to let a fantasy like that run through my head.
I walk to the bathroom and listen for her behind me. She’s quick to get up and walks at a steady pace to follow me. I walk straight to the shower and turn it on. I peek out of the corner of my eyes to the mirror. My back is still facing her as I put a hand under the cascade of water, waiting for it to warm for her. She stands facing me with her legs shoulder width apart, and slips one strap off her shoulder and then the other. The scrap of a dress falls to the floor, exposing her skin. Her breasts are firm and plump. Her nipples are small, pale pink buds. They harden as the air touches her tender flesh.
I close my eyes and try to will away my erection. This was not something I planned on when I decided to man the fuck up and take on this role so I didn’t get my ass killed. If I acted on my body’s urges, I’d be taking advantage of her. I won’t fucking do it. I may be a prick, and I may be a criminal. But I would never do that. I don’t give a fuck what Abram expects from me.
I hear her walk closer to me. Her small feet pad softly against the tiled floor. That and the sound of the water cascading into the shower stall are the only sounds. I lick my lips and turn to face her. I’m her keeper and I need to act like it.
I move out of her way and watch as she enters. I could leave her, but that wouldn’t be intelligent. My eyes look back at the mirror. If I was her, I’d shatter it and try to slice my throat with the largest piece I could get my hands on. I’ve seen it before. If you’re lucky, there’s not much glue holding it up, so large chunks will fall. If I was her, I wouldn’t even hesitate. I peek at her from the corner of my eyes as the sound of the water changes. She’s washing herself quickly with a nervous look on her face.
“You can take your time. No need to rush.” I say the words calmly, hoping to ease some of the tension I can see coming off of her. She’s been worried from the second I saw her. I don’t like it. She doesn’t need to worry. So long as she stays in line and obeys me, she’ll be safe.
For as long as she’s mine, anyway. I clench my jaw not liking the thought, and decide to walk over and lean against the edge of the counter.
“Ava?” I ask, to get her attention. My eyes stay on the floor, but I monitor her in my periphery.
“Yes, Kane?” she’s quick to ask, pausing her movements. Her muscles are coiled. She’s waiting for an order.
“I don’t like this, Ava.” I just want to get this shit off my chest. I’ll be honest with her. As much as I can be, anyway. “I don’t know if you can tell,” I begin to say as my eyes find hers, “but this isn’t what I usually do.” I wait to hear her response, but I don’t get one. She’s still waiting. I take a deep breath and grip the counter while looking back down at the floor.
“I’m your keeper for a while, and I know things are going to be different with me than they’ve been with your other...” I trail off and pause. I don’t fucking know what to call them.
“Masters.” She says the word for me. Masters are what they call them. Masters and Slaves.
“I don’t want you to think of me as a master, Ava. That’s not what I am.”
“Are--” she starts to ask a question, but then she seems to jolt and stills in the shower. I look up at her and nod.
“I want you to ask me questions. I want you to listen to me.” I point a finger at her to emphasize what I say next. “But talk to me.” I almost say, it hasn’t been that long, you must remember what it’s like to be normal. But instead I bite my tongue and feel like a fucking asshole. Yeah, it’s only been weeks of torture and countless times being passed around, used and degraded. I’m such a fucking dick. She’s obviously