“My brother gave me this in case I needed to subdue you, but it will take away your pain. I told you, I’m a fair Master. I won’t hurt you if you don’t earn a punishment.”
“I don’t want it,” I managed to whisper.
“I decide what’s best for you from now on,” he declared calmly.
“Please,” I begged uselessly as he carefully slid the needle into my arm.
“Hush now, cosita,” he murmured. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
“No,” I slurred, the drugs making my tongue heavy within seconds.
His long fingers smoothed over my hair, petting me as I fell into darkness.
Chapter 3
A pleasant, warm weight pressed against my chest. I snuggled into it, finding comfort in the weighted blanket that helped calm my anxiety. I’d bought it three months ago, and I’d found that it helped soothe my racing thoughts enough so I could actually sleep through the night.
I certainly felt rested, even if my mouth was too dry. Like the time I’d binged on Smirnoff Ice and woken up with a wicked hangover. This time, the headache was mercifully absent.
Although my eyes were still closed, my brow furrowed. I didn’t remember drinking last night. What did I…?
My eyes snapped open, and my body jerked bolt upright. Andrés’ corded arm fell from my chest, where it had been draped across me. I gasped and scrambled away from him, tumbling over the edge of the mattress to fall on my ass. Terror ripped through me as reality slammed back into place.
I pushed up onto my feet and backed away from the bed, desperate to put distance between us. His dark gaze fixed on me, but he didn’t so much as lift his head from the pillow. I expected him to come after me, to attack. But he simply watched me with mild curiosity, as though interested to see what I would do next.
I became very aware of his eyes on me, and I realized cool air kissed every inch of my skin. I instinctively covered my breasts and sex before my mind fully processed the fact that I was completely naked. I remembered the needle sliding beneath my skin while I was bound to his bed, helpless. He’d drugged me, stripped me when I was unconscious.
Then he’d spooned me.
And I’d cuddled closer.
Tears burned the corners of my eyes as panic overwhelmed me. I was naked with my captor. He’d touched me while I was drugged and unable to defend myself.
I shuddered at the thought of him touching me. He could have done anything to me, and I wouldn’t know.
How could I have rested comfortably beside the monster for even a moment?
“I thought you were my blanket,” I blurted out, needing to justify my actions to myself but not meaning to speak the words aloud.
One corner of his lips twitched upward. “Excuse me?” he asked, his accented voice colored with amusement. He propped up on one elbow, his gaze sharpening with interest that had become something more than idle curiosity.
I took a hasty step back, clutching my hands tighter against my most vulnerable areas. Fear spiked, instinct driving me to keep as much space between us as possible while trying to cover myself.
“I have a weighted blanket. At home. It helps with anxiety,” I babbled, the words spilling out of me as panic addled my mind. “Your arm was heavy. I thought it was my blanket. That’s why
I… Stop looking at me!” I shouted the last, unable to bear the intensity of his black eyes studying my naked body.
“I like looking at what’s mine,” he said, his voice deep and even, as though he wasn’t saying something abhorrent.
“I’m not yours,” I countered, my voice high and thin.
His eyes darkened to flat black as his pupils dilated. He finally stood, the sheets falling from his powerful form. Every inch of him was sculpted, every muscle defined. He wore only sweatpants slung low on his hips, so I got a clear view of just how hulking and strong he was. More than a dozen raised, pale scars crisscrossed his torso and abs, standing out against his tanned skin. They weren’t as deep and puckered as the wicked furrow that had been carved into his cheek, but they were no less intimidating. How many times must he have fought and won to bear so many marks of violence on his skin?
I shrank back, feeling small and horribly vulnerable. I might be a field agent, but I wasn’t equipped for this. No one had trained me for this terrifying scenario; where I was naked and outmatched by at least a hundred pounds of muscle, facing off against a man who was clearly a ruthless fighter. A man who’d easily wrestled me down and bound me to his bed. A man who had slapped my bare breasts and said I belonged to him.
My flesh tingled with the memory of his harsh rebuke, and a light tremor raced over my skin, making it pebble.
“My brother was right,” he said, still studying me intently. “Your eyes are lovely when you’re frightened. Wide and blue. Like a pretty doll.” He took a step toward me. “Am I so terrifying, sirenita?”