"Because he needs it."
I gaped at her. "He needs me to be good for him," I said flatly. "I don't know what kind of psycho world you've been living in, and whatever's happened to you, I really am sorry. And I am going to help you get out of here. But I'm not going to roll over and give up just because you told me to. I'm not going to behave for my sadistic captor who gets off on torturing women, no matter what you say."
She shook her head, her shining blond hair waving around her delicate face. "You don't understand him. You don't know him."
"And you do? Just how well do you know Master Andrés? What did he do to you, exactly?" Ugly emotions clawed at my insides: anger, bitterness, fear.
She lifted her chin. "He's nice," she insisted, as though that was the only way she was capable of thinking of Andrés.
Ice crystallized in my veins. What had he done to her to warp her so thoroughl
y?
“Thank you, Lauren,” his accented voice rolled through the room. “You can go now.”
I jolted and grabbed the sheet, jerking the fabric over my body. Andrés smirked at me as he stepped into the bedroom.
"You know you're not allowed to cover yourself, cosita," he said, more amused than stern. "Show me your pretty pussy. I want to see it."
Lauren hurried out of the room, but I couldn't focus on her retreating form. All my attention was riveted on the threat posed by Andrés. My body became very aware of his proximity, remembering the pain he'd inflicted the night before. My heartbeat picked up, my pulse racing. I wanted to pull the sheet all the way up over my head and hide like a child seeking protection from a monster.
But my bottom throbbed, a cruel reminder of what he was capable of if I disobeyed him. I'd already been naked around him pretty much since I'd gotten here. Why risk another punishment just to cover myself now? He'd look at me, one way or another.
Slowly, I curled my fingers into the sheet and forced myself to drag it off my body. His eyes went straight to my bare sex, and they darkened with hunger.
"Very pretty." He made a little rolling motion with his forefinger. "Turn over. I want to see my marks on you."
I glared at him.
He met me with a steady stare, waiting.
I huffed out an angry breath and rolled onto my front. It felt nice not having my weight on the bruises, anyway.
"On your hands and knees," he commanded. "Spread your thighs. I want to see my marks and my pussy."
My eyes narrowed farther, and I didn't move to comply. That was too much. He couldn't honestly expect me to present myself to him so wantonly. Not without putting up a fight.
Only, I didn't have time to fight. His arm snaked beneath my hips, pulling me up onto my knees.
"Hey!" I cried, indignant.
His hand cracked across my bruised thigh, and I shrieked.
"You will learn to obey me," he said calmly. "Spread your legs. Now," he added, the word imbued with warning.
My cheeks burning hotter than my thigh, I slowly eased my knees apart while he kept me in place with his arm braced beneath my stomach.
"Beautiful," he remarked, his voice a low rumble. He touched his fingers to my labia, stroking over my bare skin. My sensitive flesh danced and quivered. It was strange to feel so smooth down there, his touch gliding over my sex in a gentle caress. His fingertips grazed over my clit as he stroked me, and I couldn't quite manage to smother a small gasp as pleasure crackled through the little bundle of nerves.
He chuckled. "I think my kitten likes when I pet her pretty pink pussy."
"Stop," I begged, not daring to say I didn't like it. That would be a lie. I couldn't deny that it felt good when he touched me like this. But that didn't mean I had to admit it aloud. I didn't want to like his touch, but my body betrayed me.
"But I like petting your pussy, gatita," he said, not stopping his tender exploration of my bare flesh. It still stung slightly from the waxing, but my core fluttered as he continued to stroke me. "You were very well behaved for Lauren, weren't you? I think you've earned another reward."
"Is this what you did to her?" I hurled at him, my fury rising at the mention of the broken woman. "Beat her and manipulated her until her mind warped? Did she used to hate you before she started worshipping the ground you walk on? Did you—?"
My tirade ended when he abruptly flipped me over and settled his hand around the front of my throat. He didn't apply any pressure this time, but the warning was clear.