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“I am not my brother,” I growled, the words so roughened by possessive fury that they were barely discernable. “I won’t torture you or threaten the people you care about to get what I want out of you.” I leaned in closer, so the weight of my glare would bear down on her. I would remind her of her powerlessness against me, that she already belonged to me, whether she wanted to or not. “I don’t need to torture you to get what I want.”
“And what do you call tying me down and whipping me until I scream?” she shot back. “Is that not torture?”
My stomach twisted, her words making phantom knives slice through my flesh. “If you knew what torture really was, you wouldn’t have to ask.”
“And how would you know?” she challenged. “It’s not like you’d ever let anyone whip you until you cried.”
My hand squeezed her wrists, tethering her to me as horrific memories threatened to spill from the dark corner of my mind where I’d locked them away.
“You think I don’t cry when I’m hurt? You think I don’t bleed when I’m cut? You think I don’t scream just like any other man in pain? I might not be sane, but I’m still human, Samantha. Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”
Her breath caught. “Is that how your face…”
A feral snarl ripped from my chest, the ferocious sound making her query die in her throat.
“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” I repeated, enunciating every word. “And don’t say your friend’s name ever again. I don’t want you to even think about him. I’m the only man you should be concerned with, the only one you should think about. Your purpose is to serve me, to please me. No one else.”
“Please.” She winced, her eyes watering “You’re hurting me.”
I realized my fingers were digging into her cheeks, gripping her with brutal force. I’d lost all semblance of control, and I was on the edge of violence, on the verge of damaging her.
I released her and pushed to my feet with a curse. I strode to my wardrobe and began to pull on my clothes in jerky movements, rage simmering just under the surface of my skin.
When I was dressed, I walked toward the bedroom door, not glancing in her direction. I had to get away from her, or I might do something I’d regret. My emotions were roiling, the memories I’d so carefully suppressed rising to the surface. I needed to regain control, and the only way I could think to do that would be to drag her into my training room and whip her until she screamed for mercy.
That would destroy any chance at establishing trust between us. And in my unstable state, I might accidentally cause her real harm.
I didn’t want to break my toy.
That’s all she was to me. She thought of me as her monstrous captor, so that’s what I would be. She didn’t have to willingly surrender to be utterly devoted to me. I could still tame all the fire out of her and turn her into my docile, obedient plaything.
Contemplating any other course of action had been misguided. Kissing her had been foolish, irrational.
“Andrés.” The soft, tentative way she said my name almost made my final thread of control snap.
My thoughts instantly shifted from plans to make her scream in pain. I wanted her to scream my name as I pinned her to the bed and fucked her ruthlessly.
I stiffened, but I forced myself to keep moving away from her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I froze in my tracks. She might have driven me close to madness with her defiance, but her sweet contrition threatened to shatter me. My life had been devoid of tenderness for almost as long as I could remember. When was the last time someone had said “I’m sorry” to me without pissing themselves in fear?
Samantha wasn’t frightened. I wasn’t threatening her. She offere
d her apology out of kindness.
“I got something for you,” I forced out after a few tense seconds. I didn’t look at her. I wasn’t sure what I’d do to her if I looked into her lovely eyes. “It’s on the tray next to your breakfast.”
“What—?”
“I’ll see you tonight.” I strode away from her, sparing her from my mercurial mood. If I stayed, I’d consume her. I’d hurt her and fuck her and claim her in every way possible. She would scream and weep, bleeding out more pretty tears for me.
She would never forgive me, would never trust me.
I won’t break her. I won’t.
Chapter 11
