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But my life without Carmen in it…
I shook my head sharply. The only way Carmen wouldn’t be in my life was if she was dead, and I wasn’t going to allow that to happen under any circumstances. No one would take her from me.
Grim determination to keep her gave me the clarity to set a decisive course of action. I reached into my pocket and removed the key that would unlock the cuff around her ankle.
“All right, I’ll leave you alone,” I allowed, setting the key down on the bed beside Carmen. “There’s the key to remove your cuff. I’m going to lock the bedroom door and the master bathroom door behind me. You can take some time for yourself. If you want to take a bath, be careful of your bandages. And when you take that toy out, be gentle.” I gave her the freedom to remove the silver spheres from her pussy without my help, suppressing my concerns that the process would be more jarring for her if I wasn’t there to offer pleasure to ease her tight channel.
She lowered her hands from her face, her gaze landing on the key beside her. She snatched it up quickly, spearing me with a distrustful glare. Her gray eyes sparkled, and she blinked rapidly, refusing to cry in front of me.
Ruthlessly quashing the impulse to reach for her, I ran a hand through my hair instead, leaving the careful style uncharacteristically mussed.
“This isn’t some sort of trick,” I swore, low and rough. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
I hadn’t intended to say that. I’d intended to give her a rational explanation for why I was giving her space. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t like when she was upset and that I wanted her to feel better, even though I recognized that there was nothing I could do to accomplish that. My nearness was the cause of her pain.
I definitely didn’t like that.
“What if I manage to find a weapon while you’re gone?” she challenged softly, her pale gaze intent on my face. “Are you willing to risk your life because you don’t want me to hate you?”
I shrugged, ignoring the knifing pain at the center of my chest. “Don’t worry, kitten,” I said, my nonchalance ruined by my gruff tone. “I won’t let you kill me.”
Turning on my heel, I followed through with my promise to give her space. I closed the bedroom door and locked it behind me, rubbing my chest to alleviate the strange ache behind my ribcage.
Chapter 13
Carmen
I lingered in the bathtub long enough for the water to cool, taking full advantage of the mercifully peaceful time away from Stefano’s insidious influence. Even though he’d left me alone for hours today, I’d felt his touch all over my body like a brand, the heavy silver spheres inside me a constant, inescapable reminder of his complete ownership.
Shame flushed my skin, despite the tepid water. I’d allowed him to reduce me to that state. By the end, I’d been mindlessly eager for his attentions, enslaved to his will by no more than his masterful touch.
My stomach twisted in knots. Stefano was right about one thing, even though I was loath to admit it to myself: our physical chemistry was combustible. Dangerous.
I’d removed the cruel, deviant toy he’d placed deep inside my body, and the process had left my sex slightly tender. Without the ruthless heat of his hands manipulating my erotic responses, my inner muscles were tight enough to resist the passage of the hard metal spheres.
My muscles ached from the tension that had gripped me all day; every small movement had made the toy rumble and stimulate my most sensitive flesh, fueling my shame, rage, and fear. Each time my breath caught and my pulse raced, dread flooded my system at the knowledge that the bracelet he’d secured around my wrist would alert him to my altered state. He had known my humiliation, even though he wasn’t present to witness it.
Stefano hadn’t carved a mark of ownership into my skin, but I felt branded deep inside, as though he’d forced an imprint on my soul.
My captivity with Miguel had been horrific, but at least my body had never betrayed me to him. He’d broken my spirit, but he never ensnared my mind.
Stefano didn’t have to inflict physical agony to cut into me more keenly than Miguel had ever managed.
As I clawed my way through shame and despair, I managed to reclaim a fraction of my cold clarity. One objective filled my mind: I have to escape.
Sheer stubbornness forced my cognitive abilities back online, my fierce determination to survive this with my soul intact granting me the mental acuity to strategize.
Stefano’s stifling nearness was the cause of my undoing. His twisted mind games and ruthless sensual manipulations would wear me down until I couldn’t recognize myself.
