I go to the bathroom and wash my hands, then wet a clean cloth with warm water. When I come back, she hasn’t moved, still lying face down with her cheek pressed against the leather, her breathing slowly returning to normal.
I clean her carefully, gently, wiping away the slick from her thighs and the gel residue from her back. She shivers when the cloth passes over the sensitive welts, but she doesn’t pull away.
When I’m done, I tug my shirt back down over her hips and sit on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on her lower back.
“You didn’t—” She turns her head to look at me, eyes still hazy. “You’re still—”
I glance down at the obvious tent in my sweatpants. “I know.”
“Don’t you want—”
“Do you want me to?” I run my palm up her spine, feeling the warmth of her skin through the linen.
“No, I still hate you.”
“That’s what we thought.”
“We?”
“Me and my cock.” I let one of my smiles dazzle her.
She stares at me for a long moment, like she’s trying to solve an equation that doesn’t add up.
“I don’t understand you,” she says finally. “Last night you beat me with a belt. Tonight you’re—” She gestures vaguely. “This.”
“Both things can be true.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does in my world.” I brush a strand of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I punish you when you disobey me. I take care of you after.”
“That’s not normal.”
“Nothing about this is normal.” I stand up and offer her my hand. “Come back to bed.”
She takes it. I pull her to her feet, and she sways a little, still unsteady, and I catch her around the waist to hold her upright. She leans into me without thinking, her forehead pressing against my chest.
“Dmitri’s offer,” she murmurs against my shirt. “The note.”
“What about it?”
“I didn’t read it.” She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “I didn’t need to. I already knew what it said.”
“And?”
“And I’m not taking it.”
My chest does something complicated. “Why?”
She looks at me for a long moment, and there’s nothing soft in her expression.
“Because he’s a stranger,” she says. “And you’re the devil I know.”
She pulls away from me and walks toward the door, my shirt swaying around her thighs.
“Anya.”
She stops but doesn’t turn around.
