Her jaw clenched, dragging me into deeper fascination with her.
I’d exercised my self-control a lot tonight.
She’d just pushed me to the edge.
Pressing my thumb against the metacarpal leading to her big toe where badly healed bones showed injury, I said, “Just like he broke your hand, he broke your foot.”
She sucked in a breath as my touch lingered on her toes then crept up her ankle to her calf. “Why? Is it to keep you in line? Are you rebellious and deserving of such cruelty? Or is he just a sick fuck who plays with you?”
A rageful spark ignited in her gaze. For once, I couldn’t figure out if she was pissed I’d implied she deserved such punishment or relieved I saw exactly what Alrik was.
“I’ll put your mind at rest. I know it’s not you. It’s him. You don’t deserve a single bruise he’s given you.”
That damn connection spiralled thicker as she stopped breathing. Her eyes tore into mine and whatever enchantment she’d fucking weaved on me grew hotter, tighter, stronger.
It couldn’t be permitted to continue.
I only had one night. I only wanted one night.
I wouldn’t hurt her, but I would steal from her, and then…I’d leave.
Because I was fucking selfish and didn’t have the willpower to fight the addiction quickly building for her.
My thumb stroked her gently as my constant battle for control won over my scattered thoughts. “I have many questions for you, Pimlico. Questions I didn’t really care about until now. However, by trying to dissuade my interest by refusing to obey me, it’s done the opposite.” I grinned. “It’s only made me more determined.”
Bracing myself on my knees, I yanked her lower leg. I wasn’t gentle or kind. She swooped from reclining to spread, and the moment she was on her back, I locked my fingers around her throat again.
The panic I’d witnessed in the stairwell when I’d given her my jacket unravelled. Her breathing picked up, unable to avoid the trigger whenever I touched her neck.
If I was a nicer man, I would remove my hand and touch her elsewhere.
But I’d already established I had my faults.
She would have to live with them.
I waited for her to erupt into an attack—to fight me off—but once again she inhaled and exhaled, taming her snarling pulse, locking everything from view.
Fuck, she’s so much more than I thought. More warrior, more wounded, more woman.
But none of that mattered.
I would still earn my answers.
“Three questions.” Shifting my body to lie back beside her, I whispered, “You get three questions. If you answer them, I’ll let you go. I won’t expect anything more.”
Her gaze widened as my hand slipped from her throat to resume my position on her sternum. “However, if you don’t answer them, then I’ll expect everything. I’ll fuck you, just because I can. I’ll treat you like a slave because that’s all you’ll ever be if you don’t let me into your mind.”
I locked eyes with her. My control snarled, begging to snap. But I had just enough discipline to ignore it. “First question, how long is it since you ate?”
Her face went slack with surprise.
I chuckled low in my chest. “Not something you expected me to ask?”
Come on, shake your head.
Answer me.
The longer she was silent, the more my obsession increased.
I will break you, Pim.
Poking her stark ribcage, I said, “I want to know because I’ll ensure Alrik is starved the same way, once our deal is complete.”
Her muscles tensed, her eyes flying to the ceiling, searching for cameras. I didn’t need to be quiet about what I intended to do. We had a contract. That contract would keep peace until delivery of his yacht.
After that, he would try to kill me—like the fuckwits who bought my services always did. And he would fail—like the fuckwits always did. But at least I would’ve upheld my side of the business and my reputation remained intact.
However, I wouldn’t kill Alrik so fast. I’d pay him back, like for like, let him live Pimlico’s life before ending his.
What would she say if I admitted my plan? Would she rejoice or cower? I had a feeling if she had the power to make her master hurt, she would be the one to do the dirty work. She wouldn’t be satisfied with an outsider extracting tolls she herself had paid.
Our mutual silence filled with thoughts of revenge and the slightest thawing in her gaze welcomed me to ask another question.
She might not know it, but she’d just lost.
She’d let me in.
Stupid, stupid girl.
“How long is it since you’ve been free?”
Whatever openness she’d given me shut down with the clang of a steel gate. Her eyes closed as she swallowed.
“Months or years?”
She didn’t flinch.
Studying her body, counting the breaks and kicks and bruises, I answered for her. “Just like a tree gives up its age when its trunk is revealed, your body answers without words.”
Her forehead furrowed, keeping her eyes shut.
“I’ll guess a few years.”
Anger heated my blood—not because of her pain, but her refusal to reply. Such questions might’ve made a normal man care. Might’ve given them second thoughts about being here and doing his best to shoplift a girl’s secrets.
But I wasn’t most men. I did care…somewhere inside me. But I’d been through my own trauma, and it’d tainted my view of others.
I didn’t have a saviour when I’d needed one.
I had no intention of being a saviour to someone else.
Who cared about such generic questions? I’d earn her answers through other means. She owed me a debt. It was time to pay it.
The thought of watching her finger herself thickened my cock.
Alrik was right about one thing. Being at sea made it hard to find a fuckable companion—unless I supplemented my on-board staff or flew in an escort with my helicopter. However, both those options didn’t hold allure.
Not like this creature.
I didn’t have long before I returned to the ocean. I’d wasted enough time already.
“Enough questions. Time to repay me, Pimlico.”
Her eyes shot wide as my hand splayed on her lower belly, trailing up her ribcage, following the slight curve of her breast to the vivid collarbone sticking out with hunger.
I didn’t stop touching her—up her throat, to her cheeks where I dug my thumb into one side and my fingers into the other, yanking her face to mine.
She stopped breathing.
I squeezed hard, forcing her to pay attention and listen to every instruction.
“Open your legs.”
Her teeth clenched beneath my hold.
My hand tightened. “Do it.”
For a moment, utmost detestation glowed then, ever so slowly, her legs switched from glued together to slightly spread. Not nearly wide enough for a hand or tongue but enough to glimpse what lay between them.
My cock turned to stone.
Shaking my head, ridding the pressuring lust and focusing on my control and never-fading shame, I growled, “I’m going to let you go, but you’re going to do everything I tell you. Got it?”
Even now, I still expected a nod.
However, Pimlico merely stared at me offering no acknowledgement or refusal. My eyes dropped to her lips, following the cracked pink skin and fighting the sudden diabolical desire to kiss her.
I wanted so fucking much to kiss her. To force her lips to move even if they wouldn’t speak.
But shit, that was way too personal.
I was allowed to sample one of everything. One gasp, one night, one orgasm.
But a kiss…I wouldn’t fucking do it.
Trusting years of training by Alrik to force her to obey, I let her face go. The loose ponytail I’d formed with her hair fanned on the bed as she rolled completely onto he
r back and opened her legs a little farther.
“Good girl,” I murmured, tracing the bruises on her flesh, almost like roses in different stages of bloom. Some spread and mostly colourless with fading beauty and others as bright and tight as new buds.
Pressing a practically violent green one, I said, “Do you remember what each was caused by? Or do you prefer to forget?”
She stared at the ceiling as I followed the petals of another as it faded into ochres and browns. “The more I study you, the more you remind me of a mouse.”
The sharp intake of breath and sudden flinch was the most reaction I’d earned so far.
I latched onto the word that’d unravelled her silence. “You don’t like being called a mouse or was it something else I said?”
Her chin tilted. She shut down again.
Too late.
I’d unlocked something. I didn’t know what, but I’d find out.
“I think I’ll call you that from now on…little mouse. You’re a silent mouse tormented in a cage. However, no matter how small and vulnerable a mouse is, they have the power to wreak havoc if they accept who they truly are.”
“They also have incredibly sharp teeth.” Drifting my finger over her mouth, I inserted the tip past her lips to the warm wetness beyond. “Tell me, Pimlico, do you have sharp teeth?”
She didn’t open or let me run my finger beneath her canines. But her heart picked up, siphoning through the visible vein in her neck.
My silent one had become a silent mouse, and it suited her so fucking much.
Her face snapped away as if a memory was too hard to handle.
Nudging her chin with my knuckles, I guided her back to me forcibly. “You don’t know me, but you do need to know that if you’re in bed with me, you focus on me and only fucking me.”
She glowered.
I ran my hand down her right arm and looped my fingers with hers. “I trust you’re right-handed?” Glancing at her broken one, I smirked. “Because if you’re not, this isn’t going to go so well.”
Her eyebrow twitched but I didn’t catch her retort. Either way, she would do what I wanted. She would touch herself. I didn’t care if it took her all night.
Unthreading my fingers from hers, I wrapped them around her wrist, guiding her hand to her pussy.
She stiffened as I placed her palm over herself, hiding what I wanted to see. “Your turn.”
Propping my head into my palm, I stared down at her. “Go ahead. Touch yourself as you would when you’re alone. Let me see what you do, hear what you moan, watch you fuck your fingers.”
She jerked, her hand flying from her pussy to clutch the bedding beneath her.
Temper masked my thoughts. “Don’t disobey a direct order, silent mouse. You have to do what I do, remember?” Taking her hand again, I guided it back into position.
Letting her go, I latched onto her knee, yanking her legs farther apart.
The moment I had a full view of her, I swallowed my groan. I’d seen many women in my travels; I’d sampled some and avoided others, but never seen one as pretty as Pimlico.
Could a woman be called pretty down there? Addictive and bare, yes, but pretty? I didn’t fucking know, but Pim was. Everything about her was delicate and petite, tucked away as if terrified of yet more abuse but still womanly enough to hold a hint of sex.
Biting my lip, I curled my fist to stop myself from touching her. If I felt her…that would be it. There would be no tease or appetiser, just a fucking banquet as I took her over and over again.
“Touch. Go on. I order you not to be shy.”
How could a sex slave be shy? Every part of her was owned by someone else. I didn’t understand the sudden terror on her features.
“Wait…” I paused. “You have come before, right?”
She froze.
Ah, fuck.
“You’ve…never come?”
What was I supposed to do with that?
She squeezed her eyes, trembling as if preparing for a beating. Would Alrik hurt her for such a thing?
Would I?
I ran a hand over my face. “You’ve never orgasmed with another person? How about on your own in private?”
Her entire body shot pink with embarrassment.
Her answer was loud and fucking clear.
Shit, how old is she?
How old was she when she was fucked for the first time? Surely, at some point, a release would’ve found her? Or at the very least, curiosity would’ve forced her to find it on her own if not with another?
My first orgasm was when I was twelve while I slept behind a dumpster. It’d been the only good thing in a sea of awful. After that, I’d become rather addicted to the brief but blistering bliss I could administer.
If Pim had never been given such a tool, how had she survived this long? How had she not wasted away and willed herself into a coffin whenever Alrik summoned her?
Goddammit, tonight just became far more complicated than I’d planned.
At least, she hadn’t moved her hand this time.
I shifted my body closer, wedging my dragon-tattooed chest against her nakedness and placing a trouser-clad leg over her thigh, holding her down. With our eyes tangled, I once again looped my fingers with hers directly over her pussy. “You have to do what I do. But for now, we’ll do it together.”
Putting pressure on her middle finger, I forced her to stroke her clit. The warmth from her skin seeped into me, regardless that I wasn’t the one touching her.
My cock hardened to the point of pain. Seeking salvation, I rocked against her hip.
Her eyes flared.
I rocked again, hating that her sharp hipbone dug so bloody right against my erection. “I’ll show you how. But to do so, I’m going to have to use you in other ways. Otherwise, I’ll go out of my fucking mind.”
She shied away even as I forced her hand south, finding her entrance.
“No, you’re not running. Not this time.”
Breathing hard, I ordered my rapidly fading control to stay strong. This would test my limits. She would test my limits.
“Get ready to touch yourself, silent mouse. I’m going to enjoy this.”
HOLY SHIT, WHAT is he doing?
I stiffened as his hand forced mine, pressing my middle finger, giving me no option but to obey. My knuckles grew hot as his large palm smothered me.
I couldn’t look away as his teeth clamped his bottom lip. He made it impossible to prevent every cell burning with the erotic way he thrust against my hip. He hadn't removed his trousers, but that didn’t stop the steel heat of his erection branding me.
Too much was happening.
Too many stimuli.
I didn’t know what to focus on: his body sandwiched along mine, his hand ordering me to feel myself, or his cock taking pleasure from me in the strangest of ways.
He made me claustrophobic and prickly.
I want to run!
But then, everything else faded as the tip of my finger entered me.
Stop!
I deplored it.
I loathed it.
I…hated, hated, hated it.
My finger was so slim and small compared to what normally brutalised me. My nail was sharp as it slid inside me with the aid of Mr. Prest’s domination. My body stretched to accommodate the skinny digit and the strangest sensation of feeling myself made me shiver with wrongness.
I’d never touched anything so weird in all my life.
I wanted it over.
Now!
“Does it feel strange?” Mr. Prest angled my hand, pushing deeper.
My face contorted as the pad of my finger found an odd ridge inside me—something not quite as flexible or as warm as the rest.
Was it a scar from the mistreatment I’d endured? An injury that would never fully heal? Whatever it was vanished in importance as he forced me to sink further.
His deep voice rumbled from his chest to mine. “Do you like it?”
Like it?
>
No, I don’t like it.
I suffered guilt and shame and confusion.
He chuckled softly. “You’ll grow to like it…just wait and see.”
I doubt it.
He laughed again, his wrist shifting to capture my first finger and dip inside me, too. This time, the pressure and stretching was greater. However, two of my fingers were still far narrower than Master A’s cock.
I turned rigid as Mr. Prest's hot breath fluttered my hair, his erection jamming against my hip. “You need to come, Pim. I need to give you that so I’ve paid in some small measure for the things I’ll take from you.”
No way.
No chance.
Mentally, physically, spiritually, there was no way I could do it.
Come?
Ha!
I didn’t buy into such elusive make-believe. No way could I switch off my self-preservation, give into someone so completely, and trust that they wouldn’t hurt me at the pinnacle of my surrender.
He was a damn comedian if he believed I could do such a thing.
Let me go!
I squirmed, glaring into his black gaze.
Leave me the hell alone!
“Close your eyes.”
Fuck you.
He cocked an eyebrow when I disobeyed him, keeping my gaze wide.
“You want to watch?” He added more pressure, pulling my arm downward so my fingers disappeared entirely inside me. “I can get a mirror if you’d like? Talk you through it. Show you what your naughty hand is doing.”
I desperately wanted to shake my head—in case he thought my silence was a request for such revolting things. But he just chuckled at my discomfort and pulled my fingers free. “Let’s see if you hate this as much.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, he glided my touch upward until it brushed the one part of me that’d shed its protecting numbness and flared with foreign feeling.
My clit.
The moment my fingers slipped over the hard bud, I jolted.
His smile was hell itself. “Ah, there you are, little mouse. Slowly coming alive.”
Once again, the name ‘mouse’ tightened my muscles, revoking everything that I’d lived through. Any other name I could tolerate. Any other rodent noun or whore’s address—even a dreaded verb would be better.