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When his thumb slides up my leg a final time, electricity shoots up and down my body, all the way to my toes. I squeeze my legs together in order not to feel … all those delicious thumps in my clit.

And all the unwanted thoughts about pleasuring myself.

Oh god, what has this man done to me?

I never used to ever think like this. In fact, I was kicked out of that damn cult for not wanting to be like that, for not wanting to give myself to any man, let alone the one who wanted to conquer me.

It’s why they banished me to the house in the first place.

And now I’m succumbing to the very thing I swore I would never do.

He looks up at me with those same hungry eyes, now tempered by the release he’s had, but no less intimidating and fierce to the bone. He towers over me, looking down at me from underneath those lashes like he’s going to devour me.

“You quivered …” he says, his low voice particularly provoking right now.

I swallow hard, trying to hide my own desire. “You touched me.”

He cocks his head. “To clean you.” A hint of a smile forms on his face. “Women react to my cruelty with fear. But you … You respond differently.”

Embarrassment floods my body again, and I try to hide my shame in vain.

“Because you hurt them, but you didn’t hurt me,” I retort.

His tongue briefly dips out to lick his lips as he studies me. “Haven’t I?” He raises a brow.

I suck in a breath and then slam my lips back shut before I say something I’ll regret.

He’s right.

He did.

Back at the cabin, when I released him from his chains and gave him back his freedom … and he took mine instead.

But I never thought he’d actually acknowledge it.

The silence is overwhelming, and I’m not sure which one of us will say it first. But then he sighs and turns away, walking back to his pants to put them back on. The spell is broken, and so am I, because I’m utterly exhausted after that show.

As he zips up, a gush of wind passes through the forest, making him pause. When it dies down, he glances at me over his shoulder and says with a grouchy voice, “I’m sorry.”

Chapter 23

Soren

I don’t know why I’d say such a thing to a woman like her. To a captive. But I do.

And when the words slipped through my lips, the silence that followed was deafening. Even though I wanted nothing more than to know exactly what she was thinking. What it did to her. How I made her feel.

And I hate that.

I hate what’s become of me.

I’ve become weak.

Caring.

I never care. Not for a single soul.

It’s been scarred into my brain and my body not to ever give a fuck about anyone’s feelings, myself included.

Yet … I cared enough to want her to stop hurting.

To stop myself from hurting her.

Why?

I even tied her to a tree so I wouldn’t grab her and take from her what I wanted, so I wouldn’t greedily ravage her body like I did last time. But I saw what it did to her, how it made her look at me, her eyes full of contempt …

And I swore to myself then and there that she’d never look at me like that again.

I’ve had plenty of women beg me to stop before, and I never listened. Torturing is my job. I live in it. I thrive in it.

But this is a whole different kind of beast … one I can’t seem to tame.

I already ruined her …

I’ll need to repent for that eventually.

But for now, I must control myself. She’s important. She needed to arrive at the location unscathed. It was my fucking job to keep her safe, and I neglected that.

I grumble about as I gather some water from a nearby freshwater stream and fill up the bottle I brought from the house so we have something to drink. But I take ample time gathering more mushrooms and edible plants from the surrounding area just so I can avoid having to go back there. Which I eventually will have to.

I sigh when my bag is all filled up, and I have no more excuses. Time to face my inner demon.

The demon that seems pissed she’s still tied to that tree because of me.

Well, it was that, or risk losing control again as I did back in the cabin.

And if I do that … what will become of me?

What will they do if they find out I ruined her?

With a pang in my stomach, I face the girl who’s clenching her jaw, throwing me back an equally pained look.

“Can you please just let me go?” she asks. “We’ve already been over this. I won’t run.”

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