“You’ll like this.” There was a ring of command in the words. She would enjoy it. I would train her to love my whip. “You’ll see. You have to trust me.”
She’d looked at me with something close to trust before; when I’d suspended her the first time, and when I taught her how to suck my cock.
This time, her eyes didn’t focus on me as though I was the center of her world. They clouded over, as though she wasn’t seeing me at all. Her skin pebbled, and she shuddered violently as her teeth began to chatter.
I dropped to my knees beside her, peering into her face. She was staring straight ahead, but she wasn’t looking at me. My stomach twisted, the nausea that had gripped me in the basement returning. Something deep in my chest squeezed to the point of pain.
“Samantha,” I rasped. “You’re okay. You’re safe with me.”
“I’m not,” she said, her voice hitching. “I’m scared. You’re scaring me. And you like it.”
“I don’t.” My own voice wavered as my gut churned. “Not like this. Please. Don’t be afraid.”
“I don’t want to be in here,” she whispered.
“All right, cosita. It’s all right. You’re safe.”
I started murmuring to her in Spanish, not really paying attention to what I was saying. All I wanted was to soothe her. I wanted her to look at me again. I wanted her to smile.
Her skin was too cold beneath my hands as I unbuckled the straps that held her down. When she was free, I cuddled her close, trying to lend her some of my body heat.
The squeezing sensation in my chest eased slightly when she tucked her face against me and curled her fingers into my shirt, clinging to me as she sobbed in relief.
I carried her back into the bedroom and settled down on the edge of the bed, holding her in my lap. She remained chilled, so I rubbed my hands all over her body, until her goose bumps began to subside.
I was still talking to her in my native tongue, a few unbidden apologies slipping in between the words meant to comfort.
Finally, she blinked and looked up at me.
The last of the tension left my chest on a heavy exhale. I pressed my lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. “I was worried about you.” My arms tightened around her, holding her closer. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You did,” she countered quietly. “You wanted to see me cry. You wanted to hear me scream.”
My eyes dropped from hers again. Something burned in my stomach. It felt a little like shame. “I do want those things from you, Samantha,” I admitted. “But not like this. I won’t break you. I won’t.” I was barely aware that I spoke the last aloud.
“I don’t want this,” she said, her voice small. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be tamed. I don’t want to work for your brother.”
My gaze snapped back to her face. She would stay here with me. She would be tamed.
And she would work for my brother.
“You don’t have a choice in that,” I said, still unwilling to tell her Cristian’s terrible plans for her if I failed. “Neither of us do,” I added bitterly, more words dropping from my lips without thought.
Her brows drew together. “What do you mean?”
Instead of answering her, I crushed my lips to hers. She parted for me on a surprised gasp, and my tongue surged inside her mouth, desperate to taste her. My kiss was hard, demanding. I didn’t relent until she finally softened against me, her creamy skin flushing with warmth.
Samantha was safe in my arms. Safe from my brother, and safe from my darker urges.
Chapter 13
I resolved to stay with Samantha for the rest of the day. After her panic, I needed to know that she was content and calm.
She seemed much happier now, snuggled up against my side as I read her graphic novel a
long with her. I had to admit that Watchmen was intriguing, but it mostly captivated my attention because she was enamored with the story. I wanted to understand her better, to ease her transition into her new life with me.
I never wanted to see her mindless with terror again, especially not at my hands.