It had been a long time since I’d seen him. I curled up on the bed and began to plot my next move?—
Juric had a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake.
“Get up.”
How long had I been out? I pulled the sheet around myself and sat up, groggy. I’d awkwardly tugged on the pants he’d left for me, but I couldn’t put the shirt on with the handcuffs in the way. I didn’t want him to see me in my skimpy bra any more than he already had, which meant I remained on the mattress, willfully disobeying him.
He yanked the sheet off, wrapped a hand around my wrist and jerked me up. The pain in my cut was white-hot as he lifted my arms, stepping under the loop of them so my cuffed hands were behind his neck.
“No.” I struggled to get out of this weird embrace that brought his face right in front of mine, but his hands clamped tight on my forearms, forcing me to remain.
“Stop fighting me,” he said. “I told you, I don’t enjoy hurting you.”
The crazy thing was I sort of believed his statement. He had seemed uneasy when he’d cut me. His face right before I’d passed out had almost looked rattled.
A weakness?
Could I use this to my advantage somehow?
“If you don’t want to hurt me,” I said, “thendon’thurt me.” My mind was foggy with pain and exhaustion.
His gaze dropped down, trailing over my bare skin, and I saw his bright blue irises fill with something so fucking frightening I could barely form the word.Desire.
One of his hands moved, sliding down my elbow and on to my shoulder. It crept along my skin, paying no attention to my shudders of revulsion or how I cringed while my hands bound together behind his neck were restrained.
His caress continued to my collarbone. My breath came and went rapidly, my heart thumping faster still. He was going to put his hand on my breast. He trailed his fingertips down, dragging them lower, almost to the lace...
“Please, don’t.” My voice was calm and even, but it felt like I was standing on cracking ice.
He hesitated, his breathing just as hurried as mine, but then the desire abruptly dissipated. He subtly shook his head, clearing the fog, and lifted my arms back over his head, so he was no longer trapped.
“I need you to get dressed.”
“I can’t,” I said, making a show of the handcuffs.
His eyes gleamed. “Would you like me to take them off?”
I froze. Anything that sounded too good to be true always was.
“Ask me,” he said.
“I’m familiar with this game.” My voice was resigned. “Will you take the handcuffs off? Please?”
He rewarded me by producing a key from his pocket. I detested his hands on me and allowed it just long enough for him to get one cuff open. He was working on the other and completely unprepared for me to bring my knee up, right between his legs.
He groaned painfully and bent forward, his hold on me strengthening. Even in his discomfort, he was smart enough not to let go of me.
“That’s what you get for touching me,” I said, listening to him catch his breath. “You may not enjoy hurting me, but I like hurting you.”
He recovered quickly and punched me, driving his fist so hard into my stomach I was sure it was going to come out the back. Hands held me tight to keep me on my feet when I fell forward into his arms. The noise I let out didn’t sound human.
In my pain, my gaze found his.Oh God, where was the air?
“Breathe,” he whispered, once again looking stricken. “You’ll be okay.”
I gasped, struggled against him, and finally I did as he commanded. My body trembled, and now I clung to him with no other choice. The man who had struck me. He watched, curious and confused.
I wasn’t able to move. Everything hurt, and I just wanted five minutes of rest. Five minutes where I wasn’t worried about what he was going to do to me next.
