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“Nothing,” she whispered.
That single word confirmed everything he'd suspected since he'd first laid eyes on her. That stark, hollow loneliness. He'd wanted to take her out of that loneliness from the moment their eyes had first locked. Maybe he'd always known. Even when it seemed impossible, and she'd been the one in control. She was always supposed to be his.
“So you will obey me, and I will take care of you and give you pleasure. It's very simple.”
“And when you get tired of me?”
“Oh Claire, I willneverget tired of you.”
She remained silent, likely doubting the promise in his words. Eventually she would know it was true. Fate had given him this girl, and he wasn't about to reject the generous gift.
Claire wokethe next morning in her bed in the nook, the chain secure around her ankle. Ari had slept downstairs in his own bed. He hadn't fucked her yet. He'd allowed her an entire day free of that intrusion, even though they both knew she wanted him inside her. She couldn't deny it even to herself. The possibility of their joining and the anticipation of it hung on the air, a palpable pleasure.
Even as she wanted him, she was afraid. What if she had a flashback? What if she couldn't handle it? Even though they hadn't had sex, everything he did with her was somehow sexual and promised dark carnality which she both wanted and was afraid to taste at the same time.
The way he'd started feeding her from his hand. The kneeling. Her nudity. The obedience. The way he'd bathed her the day before. The way his fingertips had gently caressed her old, faded scars from a more violent captivity.
While his bedroom was a bright white windowless cave, she'd found when the blindfold was removed that his bathroom had huge floor-to-ceiling windows. It seemed so strange to have no privacy in the bathroom. But the enormity of his property and the protected gates around it ensured no one could peep inside. Still, it had been both nice and strange to sit in a tub and be able to see the trees next to the bathroom while red birds twittered away in the snow-covered branches.
Claire's face flamed as the memory shifted away from the scenery and to the feel of his soapy fingers caressing her breasts and stroking between her thighs. The careful, deliberate way he'd touched and watched her and the helpless way she'd opened herself to that touch. She hadn't offered him the slightest resistance after her punishment in the dungeon, and it wasn't from fear of the whip. She couldn't even pretend she didn't want his hands on her. Even now, she was too aroused by the sharp memory to deny it.
From the moment that first whip lash had fallen across her back, she'd had little room for anything in her mind but Ari. Instead of waking with some awful memory of the basement, she'd woken with the memory of his large hand between her legs making her come, first lying spread open across his bed, and then later in the bath.
“Claire?” Ari called from the main level. His deep, growling voice caused her stomach to flip.
“Y-yes, Master?”
She quickly crawled out of the bed to kneel on the floor as he climbed the stairs. Her gaze dropped to the ground. He hadn't told her to look at the ground. It was just hard to meet his gaze after the things she'd been thinking.
“How long have you been awake?” he asked.
“I-I don't know. Maybe fifteen minutes?”
“Why aren't you touching yourself like I told you to? Every morning. Was I not clear enough?”
She felt herself go rigid under his scrutiny, unable to respond to his demand.
“I want to wake up every morning to the sound of your orgasm,” he said. “I woke to very disappointing silence this morning. Do you want to disappoint me?”
“No, Master.” She felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks.
“Good girl. Start. It's not a wake-up call, but watching a live show is nice, too. I might be moved to forgive you for the disobedience this time. But don't make it a habit.”
“Master, I can't.”
“Why not?” His ice blue gaze froze her from the inside out. There was a hard challenge in his eyes.
“You know why.” She held her breath. She just couldn't... think those things and bring herself to orgasm. She'd thought she could. She'd rationalized and reasoned and justified. It wasn't as though thinking these forbidden thoughts changed her situation in any way. What harm could it do now?
“Lie back on the bed and spread your legs.”
Claire obeyed the command. This was so much easier. He told her what to do, and she did it. After all, how could she refuse? There was a dungeon downstairs. And whips. And it wasn't as though he needed props to be a threat. He was so tall and broad and muscled.
He owed her so much pain for what she'd given him. They both knew that. It was easier to follow his orders than to initiate these things on her own. She could admit that she wanted him and even the sexual fantasies he promised to fulfill, but she didn't know if she could surrender fully in her own mind. Giving him what he wanted this time meant not just giving him her body, but letting him control what she thought about because the only way to perform the physical act to completion was to let those dark thoughts free from their cage inside her mind.
Her gaze drifted to his chest. He was tall and broad but his muscles weren't bulky. He'd lost some weight in the time she'd had him, but he hadn't had bulky bodybuilder muscles even then. Ari's muscles were all about performance. Strength. He was sleek like a jungle cat. And he had that V that dipped underneath his jeans taunting her. She could see he was hard and ready. Yet he hadn't made her touch him or suck him. He hadn't fucked her yet.
She licked her suddenly dry lips.
