Jesus. He must have driven her insane. But he’d gone easy on her the last few days—after he’d developed feelings for her. Caring for a “client” was something he’d never done before.
It hadn’t been the first time he’d driven one of them off the deep end with his handy knife. Until this woman he’d enjoyed his job, carving into a terrorist’s flesh carefully and slowly, relishing his or her screams and begging. Appreciating their confessions as they spilled secrets the US Army wanted to know.
He tortured them because of what had happened to his sister. These sons of bitches had killed her by unleashing the X-virus, and he would continue to make them pay for as long as the Terrorist Wars continued. But with this prisoner, the process had been different right from the start.
She was a Saudi. A beautiful woman who, according to the reports of why she’d been captured, knew the whereabouts of three of the top ten terrorists on the US Most Wanted List.
But her beauty had blinded him. He could see that now. It had unleashed his long-suppressed lust for a woman and brought out his buried protective instincts. He should have known the moment he’d accepted her offer to open her legs for him. Should have walked away right then. Should have called in someone else to torture her.
Fuck!He’d ignored the number-one rule of a torturer. Never experience empathy for the “client”. But he’d folded. Accepted her propositions. Had come to her prison cell and, instead of torturing her, instead of permanently marring her soft velvety skin, he’d fucked her and enjoyed the way her beautiful face twisted with the pleasure he gave her. But he’d also cut her flawless flesh after each visit. Not too deep. Just enough to avoid suspicion until he could find a way to break her out of here.
How the hell had he been so naïve in thinking he was in love with this viper? He’d been used. Plain and simple. She’d been acting. She’d conned him as if he were a teenage boy high on hormones. He’d been eager to make love to her.
Yesterday, he’d told her he would figure out a way to help her escape. He’d meant it. By God, he had truly meant it.
“You are the best lover I’ve ever had, Cade. Even better than the Immudin brothers and there are three of them. When they find out you had me, they’ll want you dead. I need to get back to them. I hope you understand?”
The crazy gleam in her dark-brown—almost black—eyes intensified. But he met her gaze and held it. Defiance burned through him as she lowered the blade again.
He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to go back to them. She was an object to them. A sex slave. They would probably kill her when she went back.
“Before I go. I need to leave you a little reminder of our time together. I want you to remember me.”
The knife sliced into his skin. Pain blistered across his flesh and he ground back his moans of anguish.
She cannot break me. She will not break me.
“How does it feel? Huh?” Haylah asked in her sexy Saudi accent, then giggled and carved another deep gash just above his cock and balls.
It hurt like a son of a bitch. He should scream, but the gag he’d woken up with after she’d knocked him out prevented him from making too much noise. Through the searing pain he wondered not for the first time where she could have gotten the gag. Had one of the guards come in? Used it on her? Is that why she was doing this to him?
Rage splintered his pain. Had Haylah been raped in here? But wasn’t that what he’d been doing? Raping her? She’d been under duress, begging him to stop torturing her and make love to her instead. He’d taken advantage of her. He couldn’t hide behind the excuse that she’d begged him to sleep with her. She’d said she needed human companionship. Needed a man to protect her. She’d been so convincing. Saying she wanted him. He’d been so desperate to make love, to fall in love, he hadn’t thought of anything else.
He’d heard of this happening to a few of the other torturers, but he’d never expected it to happen to him.
She cut efficiently into his flesh, so fucking slowly every excruciating slice brought extreme pain shooting through him. She carved lower with every strike. His body jerked with awareness and he strained against the binds. The same binds he’d used on her when he’d first started torturing her.
“I want you, Cade.” The Saudi’s voice swept through the fog of pain. “I want you to make love to me while I carve into your flesh.”
She wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, squeezed and twisted his shaft until he was panting with pleasure. But with her other hand, she kept cutting.
Ice-cold sweat drenched his body. Ran in rivulets off his face. He was inside a fire and an iceberg at the same time. Burning. Freezing. Dying.
Pain ripped his body apart, shredded his mind, and when she cut into the base of his cock, she shattered the pleasure she’d created.
Oh shit! Not there. Not there! Fucking bitch!
She giggled as she sliced into him. Her laughter was a crazy cackle he would remember for as long as he lived. That is, if she let him live.
She lifted the blade and, for a moment, relief whipped through him. It was short-lived as she lowered the blood-soaked blade yet again.
Bitch!If he hadn’t been bound, he might have killed her right then and there. Anything to stop the anguish of betrayal and the bite of searing pain as she cut into him again.
And again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Cade jerked awake, his body drenched in cold sweat and his heart slamming against his chest with explosive speed.
