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But now, the idea of sex wasn’t unappetizing. It was exciting and adventurous like it used to be.
Carter changed everything with that simple kiss.
He pulled his mouth away and hovered there, absorbing my reaction like a sponge. He released the counter then wrapped his arms around my waist, securing his powerful muscles around me like ropes made of metal. He squeezed me against him, his cologne heavy in my nose. He breathed into my ear again, his arousal obvious in the way his hands shook slightly. “It’ll be different with me.” His lips brushed against the shell of my ear when he spoke. “I’ll make you come—every time.”
It was a bold promise to make, especially since orgasms weren’t necessarily synonymous with sex. I never had them with Egor, obviously. But the men in my past didn’t deliver them on a regular basis either. Carter had a different level of confidence, either because of his size or because of his experience.
For a second, it was actually tempting.
Then the logic descended, and I pushed away the fog Carter created. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to give Carter a reason to tighten his hold, to not want to release me. I had to escape, to get back to where I belonged. “Get off me, Carter.” I kept my voice steady, doing my best to seem as sincere as possible.
His hands squeezed me a little harder, like he had no intention of letting me go.
I held my breath, unsure what would happen.
Then he pulled his arms away and moved toward the dining room, listening to my request like he said he would. “I heard what you said.” He turned around to look at me before he walked into the dining room. “But we both know you don’t mean it.”
Twenty-Two
Carter
I’d had rescued slaves stay at the house with me before, but none of them ever caught my attention. Not just because they were rescued slaves, but because there was no attraction there. Anytime I went to a bar or other event, I always went home with someone. Maybe women thought I was charming, or maybe they were just impressed by my money and cars. But whatever the reason, I didn’t care.
Getting laid wasn’t difficult.
So my attraction to Mia wasn’t based on convenience. I could get another woman if I just wanted to get my dick wet. On top of that, this woman was a victim of rape and abuse. Why would I want to be with a woman with that baggage when I could have someone else?
No clue.
But I wanted her all the same.
Some men might have thought of her as damaged goods, but that wasn’t how I viewed her. Instead, I saw a woman who didn’t bow to any man, regardless of the cruelty he put her through. She kept her dignity and never stopped fighting. Victims usually lost their minds before their bodies gave out on them, but she managed to protect her cognition with flying colors.
Most people couldn’t endure the kind of things she’d seen.
Couldn’t stand being imprisoned by someone like Egor.
But she did it, her head still held high.
I admired her.
In addition to that, she was stunning. The scars on her back made me more attracted to her, attracted to her endurance. I wanted to be the one to hurt her, to give her my own set of bruises. But I also wanted to be the one to make her feel good, to enjoy sex before Egor claimed the prize he’d bought.
I knew she wanted me too.
I could tell by the way she looked at me, the way she brushed off my comments even though they got to her. When I pressed myself against her, she wouldn’t hesitate to push me off if she didn’t want me there. She wasn’t afraid to fight for herself. So when she did nothing, I knew she liked it.
I knew she liked my hard dick against her ass.
She said she didn’t want me, but she was lying to me as well as her to herself. I wasn’t going to force her, not until she violated my rules. The second she crossed me, I wouldn’t hesitate. She would be on her back and in my bed, her legs spread and her pussy full of my come. But until that moment, she was still free to call the shots.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew a woman like her wouldn’t settle for being a prisoner forever. Eventually, she would make her move. She would either try to kill me or try to run. Based on our chemistry, she probably wouldn’t try to murder me. I’d been kind to her in comparison to Egor, so she would probably feel too guilty to pull that stunt.
That gave her only one other option—to run.
And when she did, I would be ready for her.
