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“Stay.”
He didn’t have to restrain me to ensure that I didn’t follow as he wheeled the cart out of the bedroom and out into what I now assumed was a sitting room. By the time he shut the door and returned to me, I lay back on the mattress, exhaustion and a pleasant sense of finally being well-fed making me sleepy.
“Go brush your teeth and wash your face,” he ordered, grasping my hand and pulling me upright.
I made a little grumbling noise, which morphed to a yelp when he swatted my ass.
“Go on,” he said sternly.
My feet dragged across the carpet as I crossed to the bathroom. Moving seemed much harder than it should, my body aching in places I’d never imagined could feel tired and sore.
I shut the bathroom door behind me and took care of my essential needs. An unopened toothbrush waited for me on the sink, as well as feminine face wash and moisturizer. I wondered when Andrés had gotten these items for me, and I concluded that the boy who’d come in to clean the bathroom must have stocked the place for me.
I glanced at the shower. I hadn’t noticed before, but a brand new razor hung from beneath the showerhead, replacing the one I’d broken this morning.
“You got a new razor,” I said when I re-entered the bedroom, puzzled as to why he’d let me near a potential weapon again.
He met me with a level stare. “And you didn’t break it apart and attempt to cut my throat. I don’t need to worry about you trying that again, do I?”
My cheeks heated, and I dropped my gaze from his. I could still see the angry red line of the shallow cut I’d inflicted across his chest. He was covered only in the towel he’d slung around his hips after our shower, his powerful form clearly on display where he lounged on the bed.
“No,” I admitted, my voice small with shame. I wouldn’t try it again. Not because I didn’t want to get spanked, but because I had to acknowledge that I truly didn’t have it in me to rip open a man’s throat. Besides, it had been a stupid, reckless plan, anyway. Where did I think I was going to go after I took out Andrés? There had to be dozens of men between me and freedom. And I didn’t think they’d like it if they found me with their boss’ blood on my hands.
“Smart girl,” he said with satisfaction. “Come over here.”
He stood and pulled back the covers, gesturing for me to get in.
I didn’t move toward him.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Putting you to bed,” he said, as though this was completely normal.
“I’m not a little girl. I don’t need you to tuck me in.”
A smile flitted around his lips. “Must you be so difficult about everything? You seem to love contradicting me.” He patted the mattress. “Do you want a spanking before bed, or are you going to be a good girl for me?”
I huffed out a frustrated breath and closed the distance between us. The sad reality was, I was too tired to keep fighting. I’d managed to get some much-needed calories back in my system, but my mind had been sapped with terror for most of the day. Not to mention the other new, intense experiences he’d forced upon me.
“Only because I’m tired,” I said as I slid beneath the sheets.
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” he allowed. “One way or another, you obeyed me, Samantha. That pleases me.”
I rolled onto my side, facing away from him, and curled my knees up close to my chest in a protective position. He didn’t comment on my small show of resistance. He simply pulled the covers over me and tucked me in like a child. It was weird. Fucked up.
Warm and soft.
And I was so tired.
“Go to sleep, sirenita.” His long fingers played through my hair, and my eyes slid closed.
Without meaning to, I obeyed yet another of his commands and surrendered to my exhaustion.
Chapter 9
The mattress shifted beneath me, rousing me. For a moment, I panicked. I wasn’t accustomed to sleeping with anyone else, so the instinctive knowledge that I wasn’t alone in my bed startled me.
Then I remembered that I wasn’t in my bed. I was in Andrés’ bed. The bed where he’d bound me and made me have my first orgasm.
