Gingerly, I sit up, grateful to find a glass of water beside the bed and what appears to be two Tylenol capsules. My hand shakes as I lift the glass and bring it to my parched lips, and when the water hits the cut on my lip, I fight against crying out, remembering how Azrael demanded I stop.
Does the man show no emotion at all?
My throat is raw, and I’m unsure if it’s from Azrael’s assault on me or the trauma of crying on and off for hourson end. Somehow, I swallow back the pills and drain the water, already wishing there was more in the glass, then I place it onto the bedside dresser.
Casting my eyes around the room, I’m relieved to find I’m in a bedroom decorated in fresh white finishings, not a dark, dank basement in sight.
The walls are clinical but fresh-looking, in a soft gray with what appears to be solid white furniture. The carpet is plush and a silvery gray, and the bedsheets I’m lying on are white and silky beneath my touch, fresh-smelling too.
“Are you always this inquisitive?” His deadly voice pulls my attention toward him, where he sits in a chair in the room’s corner.
How long has he been sitting there?
My cheeks heat with his searing glare, and I dart my eyes away from him while trying to gain some form of confidence I honestly don’t possess.
When I lock eyes with his dark ones again, I pull my shoulders back. “Where am I?” I ask, my voice croaky, but I already know the answer.
“At my mansion.”
My heart sinks.
He stands, and the contrast of his dark clothing against the light room is blinding. A devil in the light.
“There’s a bathroom through there.” He points toward a door to the side of me. “I expect you washed and back in bed within the hour.” He tugs on his cuffs. “When I come to bed, I expect to fuck. I want you clean for when that happens.”
I take a moment to register the words. He did not just say that.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you have a hearing impairment?” He tilts his headfrom side to side, and I rear back. “They wouldn’t have got much for you at the auction,” he grits out.Then he huffs and steps toward the bed, causing me to shrink back, but he grabs a hold of my ankle and yanks me across the sheets until I’m on the very edge of the bed where he lowers himself over me. “You’re here to be my little fuck toy, nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand that?” His words are bitter and cruel; each one sending a flurry of terror through me. “Would you like to be sent back to the auction, hmm? You can be caged with the other slaves.”
I shake my head, and he examines me up and down. His lip curls, and I flinch.
“I only fuck willing women,” he tacks on. “Do you understand that? You’re no good to me unwilling.” His voice pitches higher, and all I can think about is what the woman back at the auction house told me.
“Tell me you understand,” he demands, and I want nothing more than to reassure him.
Oh, I understand all right, but part of me wishes I didn’t have to.
He wants to use me for sex, but he doesn’t want or like the idea of raping me. My options are virtually nil. Relent to his needs and demands or be sent back to the auction for God knows what to happen to me. To be used by multiple sadistic bastards, no doubt.
I can’t go back there.
I can’t.
My eyes roam over the room again. It’s warm here and clean, and despite Azrael wanting sex from me, there’s nothing else so far that has the same fear overwhelming me that did in the basement.
No, Azrael is my best option.
My only option.
My shoulders stiffen, and I puff out my chest, hoping to show him the confidence he desires. “Of course. I’ll be ready.” The words are acid on my tongue, but the surprise in his eyes tells me it was worth it. His eyes briefly travel over me before he nods.
“There’s a guard at the door. His instructions are to return you to the auction if you cause issues, then I’ll put a bullet in his head for you attempting to leave.”Jesus, he’s completely insane.He waits for a response, and I nod. The tension in his face eases, then he stands to his full, imposing height before he turns and walks away, leaving the room.
The moment he closes the bedroom door behind him, I rush toward the window, only to find it locked and nothing but the moonlight.
Next, I check out the bathroom, and my body instantly relaxes. It’s fitted out fully in white tiles with a streak of gold running through them that sparkles under the spotlights. The taps are gold too; the bath appears to have jets, and there’s a huge shower with a waterfall effect inside.
