I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, clutching my hands together in front of me. “Let me explain to you how this is going to work. Lesson number one, every time you do as you are told, I will reward you.”
“Like a fucking pet?” she snapped, her eyes burning holes through my forehead.
I smiled wickedly. “If that’s the way you see it, yes. Like a pet. Clean yourself up all nice, and next time I might consider letting you take a shower. Every time you obey me, you will get your reward. Defy me, and you’ll be punished.”
She shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. “Punished how?”
“That depends on how creative I feel at that moment. But I would advise you not to chance it since I have the tendency to be very creative when it comes to punishment.”
The way her throat moved as she swallowed was proof she caught my drift. God, I loved every fucking second of this.
“I’m going to tell you one more time, Tatum. Clean yourself the fuck up.”
For a few seconds, we continued to stare at each other. I could just imagine all the gruesome images of how she’d like to murder me playing inside her head. The way I stared back at her, I made sure she got the message loud and clear that she really shouldn’t fuck with me. Although there was a part of me that wanted her to defy me, to give me a reason to punish her so I could see just how far her body could go.
Finally, she crouched down, reached for the soap in the water, all the while keeping her intense scowl on me.
“That’s a good little mouse,” I taunted.
Slowly, hesitantly, she started to move the bar of soap up her arm, and then the other, before dropping the soap back into the bucket and rubbing her hands over the layer of soap on her arms. She moved her hands up to her neck, spreading the bubbles across her skin.
I lifted a brow. “Do not forget those pretty legs of yours, little mouse.”
“You’re a sick bastard.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that.” I smiled wickedly. “Now, clean your legs.”
She stood up, and I watched with amusement as she pulled the rag she was wearing up, and up, and up, exposing more and more of her body. Her legs were long, slim, her ivory skin making the discolored rag seem even poorer.
Reaching between her legs, she pulled the back of the rag to the front and clutched it tight, forming a kind of pants. Smart move…since I knew she wasn’t wearing any panties under that rag.
While she crouched back down, reaching for the soap, our eyes remained locked on one another. Her blue irises burned, heat waking my every carnal impulse, and I didn’t dare take my eyes off her. But when she placed the bar of soap on the inside of her thigh, my gaze fell to the movement. Round and round she circled the soap over her skin, creating a thick layer of bubbles. I’d have been lying if I’d said my cock wasn’t starting to react to the sight in front of me. The way her hands touched her skin and how she stared at me with hatred in her eyes enticed my monster, made him pace behind his cage.
My gaze moved to the inside of her other thigh, and that was when I saw it—lines of white scars decorating her skin. Some thin, some thick, all crossing and twining together, forming proof that little Miss Tatum Linscott seemed to have demons of her own. And as she washed the soap from her other thigh, I noticed the same marks.
“Are those your handiwork?” I asked, keeping my gaze on her thighs.
Immediately, she stood and dropped the rag to cover her legs. “That’s none of your business.”
I rose and slowly walked toward her, those scars pulling me closer. “Tell me how you got them.”
“No,” she replied sharply.
I continued to move toward her. “Self-inflicted?”
“I told you, it’s none of your goddamn business.”
I stopped right in front of her, gazing down into the blue pits of her eyes, consumed with both fear and fire.
Those scars on her thighs had me wondering if there was a time in her life that she was utterly broken and wrecked…unless…
Maybe those weren’t scars of a damaged soul, but rather a sign of something twisted she carried inside her, a craving for something dark…a release.
Fuck me.The thought alone took my mind to the darkest, most delightful places. If that was true, that she carried around a warped sense of need, then she and I, we had something in common.
I reached out to her hip, but she pulled back. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”
But I moved forward and grabbed her hip, clutching so tightly there was no way she could get out of my hold. “Lesson number two, if I want something from you, youwillgive it to me.”