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He was nothing. He was everything. He was the only thing I had.
‘You hate me?’ he asked, his voice strained, his pace unrelenting.
‘Yes!’ I cried. ‘I fucking hate you!’
He grinned. ‘One day, you’ll love me. I promise.’
I was afraid that he was right.
CHAPTER FORTY
MARIANA
I burned with shame as Dornan drove home. I had just willingly had sex — again — with the man who was holding me captive. Had sucked his dick and let him inside me twice now, and it was so goddamn confusing.
And my family thought that I was dead.
‘Are you thinking about them?’ Dornan asked suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.
‘No,’ I answered. ‘I was thinking about you.’
He frowned for a moment, then glanced at me before looking back to the road ahead. It was almost dusk, and the sun had moved low and grown golden-orange in the Californian sky.
‘Thinking of how much you hate me?’ he asked seriously.
I shook my head. ‘No.’
He didn’t ask me anything else after that.
Back outside the apartment, I stared at the car door. I wanted to open it, but I couldn’t figure out how.
I’m in shock. The thought came from nowhere, struck me as odd, and I dismissed it.
Dornan understood. He helped me out of the car and supported me as we walked as one up the stairs to his apartment. To my apartment? It didn’t sound right. But this was where he had brought me, and this was where he wanted me to be.
Once inside, he ran me a bath. Undressed me, with slow fingers that took the opportunity to slide against my flesh, dropping my clothes on the stark bathroom tiles until I was naked before him. I didn’t push his hands away. He might be a monster, but this was a good touch. I would rather he caress me than kick me.
I would rather he fuck me than kill me.
He held my hand as I stepped into the deep bathtub and sank into the water. It was bliss. He’d filled the tub with a fragrant lotion of some kind, something that smelled of sandalwood and orange, but not the kind that bubbled.
I knew why.
Bubbles would obscure the view.
I laid back in the tub, my feet burning as water rushed into every crack and crevice caused by the rough terrain I’d had to walk on barefoot. I pressed them against the far end of the tub, hoping the pressure might ease the pain a little.
I slumped down in the tub, took a breath, and let myself slip under the water. Surfacing a moment later, I rubbed drops of water from my eyes and smoothed my hair back.
‘Better?’ he asked me from his spot on the edge.
I nodded.
He left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of ambercoloured liquid.
He sat on the edge again and held the tumbler out to me. I took it wordlessly, tossing it back. It burned on the way down, but I no longer cared.
I no longer cared about anything.
