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“My brother isn’t so sure of that,” he countered, still studying me intently. “It’s my job to ensure your honesty. He wants the truth from you, and I will have the truth.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” I insisted.
He cocked his head at me, then nodded. “Yes, I think you are.”
“Then you’ll let me go?” I asked, hope swelling in my chest.
His fingers tightened around my wrists, and he scowled, his first true show of anger since Cristian had cut me. “No,” he declared. “That’s my brother’s decision to make. Until he does, I’m keeping you.”
I glowered up at him, righteous rage rising. “Dex is going to find me,” I warned, an absolute truth. “And if you hurt me before he gets here, he will tear you apart with his bare hands.”
“No one will find you,” he swore. “You belong to me now.”
“You’re insane,” I flung back at him, twisting against his harsh hold. “I don’t belong to you.”
He rubbed his fingers over my lips, and I could smell my lingering desire that had coated them. “Your pussy says otherwise,” he told me. “You nearly came all over my hand, just from a spanking. Your body knows its Master. Your mind will follow.”
I snapped my teeth at his fingers. That was his fucking mistake for putting them so close to my mouth.
I barely managed to nip at him before he pulled back. His hand settled around my throat, applying the barest pressure. My eyes went wide, and my mind blanked. Something primal within me surrendered on instinct, my animal brain recognizing the show of dominance, the subtle threat. I was powerless against him, small and fragile in his grip.
“Good girl,” he said with approval. “Don’t try to bite me again, or I’ll find a better use for your pretty mouth.”
I sucked in a small gasp. He couldn’t mean… I’d never… I didn’t want…
His touch shifted, his hand leaving my throat so he could stroke his fingertips down the column of my neck. “Breathe,” he coaxed. “You spook very easily, cosita. But you will learn to crave me. All of me. My hand, my mouth, my cock. You will accept me.”
“I won’t,” I forced out on a whisper.
He frowned and opened his mouth to say something else that was probably equally terrifying. But a knock on the bedroom door interrupted whatever he was going to say. A masculine voice penetrated the door, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish. Andrés barked something back that I couldn’t understand.
Then his gaze fixed on me again. “I have business to attend to,” he told me. “We will work on this later.”
Work on this. Not talk about this. Whatever Andrés’ plan for me entailed, it didn’t involve my consent.
Chapter 4
He stared down at me, considering. I barely breathed. If I did, I’d inhale his purely masculine, purely intimidating scent. As well as the smell of my own confusing arousal. I didn’t understand why my body was reacting to his harsh treatment in this twisted way. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, an instinctive response designed to prevent damage to my sex if he did decide to take me against my will.
But that didn’t explain the strange tingling in my flesh, the way the blood pumped faster through my veins as I waited for his next move.
He blew out a sigh. “I need to get dressed,” he told me. “Can I trust you not to try to attack me again once my back is turned?”
I scowled at him, lifting my chin in defiance. I’d never stop trying to get away from him, even if I knew that physically besting him was next to impossible. I’d had a slim chance with my puny weapon, and now the delicate razorblade lay useless on the carpet.
But I wasn’t about to admit meekly that I’d be a good girl and stop trying to fight my way free.
His full lips twisted in a slight frown, dragging his scar down in a fearsome slash across his face. I dimly noted that he would be handsome, otherwise. Beautiful, even. His stubble-covered square jaw was strong and masculine, his cheekbones high and defined. Heavy dark brows drew together over his onyx eyes, and his black hair curled softly to frame his rugged features.
But the scar that marred his cheek… It was difficult to look at; vicious and violent.
Instinct urged my gaze to flit around the room in its familiar anxious pattern. But his eyes. I couldn’t look away. His pupils were dilated, fixed on me. A slender ring of rich chocolate brown surrounded them, nearly swallowed by the darkness of his stare.
A light shiver raced across my skin, but I remained locked in his steady gaze.
His frown eased, one corner of his lips ticking up in a perverse smile. In a shockingly tender gesture, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “So frightened, but so defiant. I’m going to have to restrain you, aren’t I?”
I jerked against his hold, but his grip remained iron around my wrists. “No.”
