“Why? Are you going to make me give you a blow job? It’s not going to happen.”
He grips my chin, not too tight but also firm enough to let me know he’s serious about this. “Have you ever given a man a blowjob before?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“I have ways of making you talk so it would be in your best interest to just tell me.”
I have no desires to find out what those ways of making me talk are so I bite down my pride and answer him. “No. I haven’t. So you wouldn’t want me to give you one. I’ll probably be terrible at it.”
“Something tells me you’re a fast learner.” He swipes his finger over my lip and I try to bite it before he moves away. “You are feisty. I wouldn’t let you anywhere near my cock. You would just try to bite it and I have no desire for that.” He settles his hands on my hips. My bare skin, completely exposed to him. “But I could fuck you. It would hurt but I can make it feel good.”
“That’s called rape. I thought you said you weren’t an incel.”
He smirks and steps back. “Get on your hands and knees. You need an attitude adjustment and I know exactly what. Something tells me that you’re the kind of woman who has never gotten her hands dirty. Have you ever cleaned a bathroom or anything?”
“Never,” I scoff. “I have a maid for that.”
“I thought so. But I know what it’s like to get my hands dirty.” He walks over to the stairs where a bucket, a rag, and a cleaning spritzer are and picks it up. “Here. On your hands and knees.”
“You want me to clean?” I ask with a sneer.
“Yes.”
“I refuse to clean. I’m not a servant. Not your maid.”
“No, but you are prisoner. So get on your hands and knees and scrub the floor. It needs a new cleaning. If you don’t do this, well…”
“Well what?”
He raises one eyebrow. “You really want to find out?”
“No,” I grumble and drop to my hands and knees. He places the bucket beside me.
“Clean.”
Swallowing my retort, I use the cleaning solution to spritz the floor, then use the rag to wipe it up. “There.”
“That was just one spot. You’re going to do the entire floor.”
“The entire floor!? But that will take forever.”
“Are you whining? Susanna, you’re my prisoner. I almost think you’re not taking this as seriously as you should be.”
I sigh. He has a point. Why am I arguing with him about this?
It’s humiliating having to crawl on my hands and knees to clean the floor but I do it and the entire time, Gabriel watches me with an amused expression. He must think it’s hilarious making me work. Well, I’m going to make sure he gets what is coming to him soon enough.
My knees ache as I move around the floor. “You could have put some padding under this hard cement. My knees are killing me.”
“Do I look like I care?”
I slap the rag onto the ground. “Enough. Stop doing this to me. You want to hurt Luca? Fine. Go hurt Luca. You don’t need me for that. He doesn’t even like me.”
“We’ll have to see about that.” He pulls out his phone and points it at me. “Smile for the camera.”
“No.”
He sets the phone down and pulls out a pair of scissors from his back pocket.
