His head lashed toward me, his stare a warning, as if I hadn’t been supposed to witness that or say anything about it, as if he was supposed to be immune, even to nightmares. But then he sighed again and nodded.
I appreciated the honesty. It was a good thing he didn’t feel he had to hide this from me. It might be something I could build on and use to gain his trust. Later, though. He might have been an asshole, but I wasn’t one to use people’s pain against them, and I knew a thing or two about nightmares. Like they didn’t come from nothing. Something obviously fucked him up to make him beg in his sleep and wake up choking whoever was in the room. Something dark and personal.
“Do you have many of those?” I asked warily.
His jaw twisted, and then he just got out of the bed and walked away from me.
Shit. I lost him already. “Hey, can I go to the bathroom? I really need to pee.”
He wheeled back and uncuffed me without a word. Then he carried me, cradling me in his arms like a baby and headed for the bathroom. I shivered against him. I’d never been so close to him while we were both naked. My cold skin against his felt like melting ice. My body begged for the warmth. His warmth. The heat that would devour me whole and scorch me alive.
He turned on the bathroom lights and sat me on the toilet. Then he just stood there.
“What? You’re gonna watch?” I scoffed.
“Yes,” he said as if it was a given, his voice gruff with sleep, standing with bedroom hair, naked, so very naked with very big morning wood.
“I can’t go like this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Va bene. I’ll just put you back—”
Tinkle. Tinkle!
He smirked. “Brava.”
My cheeks burned. I’d never been more embarrassed in my whole life.
He waited until I finished then he turned on the water in the shower. Of course. Why would such an asshole spare me the embarrassment and turn on the waterwhileI peed?
To distract myself, I explored the bathroom that was the size of my bedroom. It had a free standing tub by the window that boasted the same stunning view of the beach. A huge shower enclosure with his and hers showerheads and a Jacuzzi. A big mirror above the slab marble vanity top. The golden sink faucets shone as if made of real gold. With how filthy rich he was, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.
“You done or going for number two?”
Eeeeew. I looked for toilet paper and found a bidet shower on my left. Fancy. I’d never used one of those but heard wonders about them. I stretched my arm to get hold of it, but he grabbed it first. Then he squatted in front of me. “Open wide.”
“No! Give me that.”
He rolled his eyes and parted my legs himself. Then, holding my stare, challenging, he pushed the handle and sprayed my pussy with water.
I hissed at the cold yet erotic feeling. Of the massaging water, of his lustful gaze, of this way too embarrassing yet intimate situation. My captor was cleaning my pussy for me.
A hard clench invaded me, so I cleared my throat. “Can I shower, too?”
His gaze burned with arousal as it swept over me. “No. I love seeing my marks on you.”
“Please. I’m cold, thirsty, hungry and so dirty. I’m a human being, not an animal. If I was your fucking pet, you’d treat me better than that.”
“Pet? I like the sound of that, little kitten.”
Fuck this jerk. “Please, Dom,” I softened my voice, hoping he’d buy my lie, “I’m…begging you.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, scrutinizing me. Then he put the bidet shower away and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. I gave him a small smile. Was he buying the bait?
“Little kitten…I’m not falling for this shit again.”
