Chapter Three
Rachel
Between my thighs, I’m sticky, but I don’t hurt. He could’ve been so much rougher.
I twist until both his legs are behind me, and I’m free to move mine. Sasha’s asleep. His breath ruffles my hair. I think about wrapping the chain around his neck to kill him, but I don’t try it.
I also don’t cry. My head tells me I should be upset. He kidnapped me. He chained me up and took my virginity. And he didn’t apologize for any of it. I should be furious and devastated and clawing his eyes out or crying uncontrollably. But instead, I’m calm. I guess I’m in shock?
And a little voice reminds me that when he hesitated, I told him to keep going. What the hell is wrong with me? Haven’t I suffered enough?
Slowly the questions begin. How did he know I’d be at the theater? How long had he been planning to abduct me? How long has he known that he got shot because of me? What else does he know?
The questions make me restless.
I slap his thigh, and he stirs. “Get up.” I hit him again.
He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand behind me, pressing it into the hollow of my back.
“Behave, Raven.”
“I plan to. Step one is to kill you.”
He exhales a small laugh.
I sit up and turn to face him, the blanket twisted around me. “I need to use the bathroom.”
He rises from the bed and the sight of his naked back shocks me all over again. He’s so massive. It never fails to make me stare. I drop my gaze to the black boxers and to his tree trunk thighs emerging from below them.
“You’re so huge.”
He looks over his shoulder before bending over his jeans. He returns with a small key chain full of keys. Using one of them, he unlocks the metal leash from the collar.
I immediately try to work the collar’s clasp open, but it doesn’t budge. “Come on.”
He shakes his head.
I scratch my neck above the collar. “It itches.”
He lies back on mattress.
I rise and drag the blanket with me. “Did you bring any of my clothes?”
“No.”
“Then your shirt is mine from now on,” I say, picking up his shirt and pulling it over my head. It hangs down to my upper thighs.
I toss the blanket back on the end of the bed.
“Don’t try to run, Raven.”
Screw you, I think.
