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“Will you do it again?” I whisper and his lips stop moving along my neck and I feel his breath in my ear and it makes me shiver.
“Do what?”
“Cuff me.”
His fingers slide over my wrist and his whole being is such a contrast to mine. He’s tall big and dark and bestial while I’m pale and small enough to be swallowed by him. I wonder what it would feel like. To be consumed by someone like him. Would I ever be the same Daphne again? Would I even want to be?
“You know I will,” he rasps and I turn my face to be able to look at his eyes but his eyes aren’t hard. Instead they’re filled with emotion, with tales that I don’t know the beginning of, or the middle or the end.
“At least you’re being honest,” I say, pursing my lips and I crawl out of his lap, flushing when my core accidentally brushes against his thigh. My stomach churns. “I’m hungry,” I add.
He gets up and I’m expecting him to scowl because I refused eating yesterday but instead he only says, “I’ll let you get dressed.” He walks out, closing the door and I stare after him. He said he was going to cuff me again.
If he does, I’m going to have to be able to get free. It’s how I can escape. In the middle of the night.
Pinching my lips, I frantically look around for something I’ll be able to use. I feel a shudder of triumph in my body when I remember that I have a small kit in my purse, filled with band aids, hair ties, bobby pins and that kind of stuff.
Fishing out a couple of bobby pins, I put them in the drawer of my bedside table then hurry with getting dressed before Husband gets suspicious and comes up.
I find him waiting for me down in the kitchen, leaning against the sink and he gestures towards the table. There’s all kinds of food that I like, including oat and walnut muffins. My mouth waters and I sit down to eat, glancing up at him.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve already eaten.” He stares at me and I squirm in my seat and he averts his gaze. “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be down in the gym if you need me.”
With his usual powerful strides he walks out and I find myself slumping. With him in the room everything feels so much...bearable. I tense, pinching a piece of the muffin and I shove it into my mouth and chew.
I need to get my act together. I need to act like a captive. This isn’t a vacation. He’s not nice or fluffy and dammit, he cuffed me to the bed. I need to have a stronger, angrier reaction. If I’m not careful, I’ll probably start developing positive feelings toward him. Very positive ones.
Swallowing, I lean back in my seat and look out the window. It’s not snowing today. The sky is a mild grey and it gives me an idea. Maybe I can convince Husband to take me out. I probably won’t be able to do it because he’s not that agreeable but it’s worth a shot.
Getting up, I put the dishes in the sink then throw a look at myself in the window to make sure that I look okay before I make my way down to the basement but not before testing the front door and unsurprisingly it’s still locked.
My heart rattles in my chest as I walk down to the gym and I feel my face heat at the sight of him, lifting weights. His bare torso is slick with sweat, his muscles looking like they’re roaring under his skin.
There’s so much force in him. Determination. I can tell by the way he grits his jaw, by the focused look in his eyes. I suppose that only a male like him could come up with the idea of kidnapping a girl. He probably already knows that I’m in the room but I still twitch when he asks,
“Have you come to join me?”
I cross my arms. “Join you?”
“Are you here to break a sweat?”
“No.”
“Pity. Wouldn’t mind using your little body as resistance.”
I feel myself flushing and I drag a hand along the wall and he puts down the weights, sits up and grabs a towel. He rubs his face and shoulders down and I feel a stirring in my belly.
He’s getting to me. If we had met like normal people meet then I have a feeling that we would have waltzed the straightest and fastest way to the bedroom. Clothes would have been torn along with boundaries and emotions and everything else that gets lost when the pull is too strong.
“Husband?” I say in a watchful voice and he grabs a sip from his water bottle.
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing tonight?”
He gives me a blank stare and I drag a breath, twisting my hands behind my back like a nervous schoolgirl.
