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As if he can read my mind, he pats my knee. “You still did pretty well. You were prepared, you had a weapon, and your kick has some real power to it. But it wouldn’t have been enough to stop my brother.”
The feeling of his hand on my leg weakens me, so I try to push it away. “I’m still choosing freedom over safety. And it’s my choice, not yours. Pull over.”
His hand tightens on my knee, and he looks at me with challenge in his eyes.
I still own your body, and I’ll touch it where and how I want to, for as long as I want to.
That’s the message he’s telegraphing with his eyes. Shamefully, I’m wet for him in an instant. I squirm uncomfortably and hug myself to hide the fact that my nipples are swollen little nubs rubbing against my shirt.
Too late. A triumphant smile curves those sensual lips as his gaze wanders over my breasts. “You’re going to be begging for it by the end of the day.”
“Pass, thanks.”
“I can’t decide what part of you I’m going to lick first.”
My face flames red. He settles back in his seat, and I squirm. I’m uncomfortably aroused, and from the smile on his face, he knows it.
A little while later, we arrive at a private airport.
He hustles me on to a plane that could easily seat twenty, and one of his men loads my suitcases into a baggage compartment. Then the man climbs off the plane. The door to the pilot’s cabin is locked.
I’m alone with Joshua.
Arousal burns the fight right out of me. I struggle to find my anger, my hatred. I try to call up images of being chained up in that dark cell, but instead I think of our baths every morning, Joshua’s tongue dancing on my clit.
We settle into our seats. He waits until we’re airborne before he says to me, “I’m going to need your cell phone. You can give it to me voluntarily or not.” I see the gleam in his eyes. “You know what will happen if you say no.”
He’s hoping I’ll fight him on this.
I should just hand it to him. I know what will happen to me if I don’t.
But I want that.
I’ve been craving it ever since I was taken from him.
I shoot out of my seat, my purse firmly clutched in my hand. It’s ridiculous. We’re on a freaking plane; where would I go? I head toward the restrooms in the back.
He chases after me and catches me halfway down the aisle. My purse falls to the ground, and I give a strangled cry. He captures my wrists in one hand and easily ties them together with his necktie. Then he fishes my cell phone out of my pocket and drops it on the floor and stomps on it several times, shattering it.
“You bastard! Sarah gave me that!” I howl.
“Aw, you poor baby. Are you going to cry now?”
Why do his cruel words turn me on so fucking much?
There’s a small love seat at the back of the plane. He bends my arms painfully and steers me down the aisle, then sits down, pulling me across his lap at the same time.
“Miss me, baby?” With one hand, he holds my arm, trapping me there. He pushes my skirt up, leaving my tights on, and his other hand descends on my ass in a stinging slap. The jolt of ecstasy that shoots through me makes me scream.
“No,” I choke out, fighting for my last little scrap of self-respect.
“Liar.” His hand descends in a series of very hard smacks. They’re painful and shockingly erotic at the same time. I thrash and scream, twisting on his lap, but even as my butt grows hot and painfully sore, the juices of my arousal soak my panties.
“Let’s try that again,” he taunts me. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes,” I sob shamefully. Tears drip onto the love seat, and I writhe on his lap, almost sliding off. He grabs me by the hip and hauls me back on. As I squirm, he seizes the waistband of my tights and does something with his hand, and I hear the ripping of cloth. Cool air wafts across my rear, and his fingers gently graze the curve of my cheek, tracing it from top to bottom.
I tense. Micah branded his initials onto my right cheek, and the scar is still there. Joshua, as ever, is attuned to what I’m feeling, and he knows just what to say.
