11
After being stuck inside four bare walls, furniture and decoration are a pleasant change.
I wouldn’t say Hunter’s room is cluttered, but it’s larger and more furnished than Ryker’s room. I’m guessing that’s the reason I haven’t been in here before. More stuff equals more possible weapons. There is a reason everything gets taken away in prison, because with a little imagination, ordinary things can quickly turn into a dangerous object.
Ryker walks me into the attached bathroom, and my gaze lands on the large claw-foot tub on the far right. I almost moan, anticipating soaking in a hot bubble bath. While he starts the water, I stand at the door.
He grabs bath salts front the cabinet and adds a generous amount to the water. “This has Epson salt in it. You’re going to feel better after this.”
I can’t make any sense out of him. How sweet he’s acting. How gentle his voice sounds. Entranced, I watch him add a capful of soap to the water running out of the tap and voila. Bubbles. He wasn’t kidding about them.
There’s an earnestness on his face when he unfolds himself from his bent position over the tub. “This’ll do, right?” Does he want to please me? No, this is probably more like mercy, like people who know their pets are about to cross the rainbow bridge and make their last hours as comfortable as possible.
I realize he’s waiting for an answer, so my head bobs up and down. “Yeah, it’ll do.” Steam rises from the water and the luscious scent of lavender and vanilla meet my nose. It’s almost possible to relax.
“Gotta be careful with that hand, though. Don’t want to get your bandages wet.” He helps me undress, taking his time, almost painfully careful with my wrist and hand. Even so, I can’t help but take a sharp breath. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” And I’m not talking about right now, either. It isn’t his fault his psychotic friend tried raping me. The bastard.
Still, my revived anger dies as I lower myself into the tub with Ryker’s help. Funny the things you take for granted. Like having two working hands to grip the sides of a bathtub.
“Easy now,” he murmurs.
Soon I’m chest-deep in the heavenly steamy, fragrant water.
A tiny laugh escapes me. This is beyond the absurd. A bubble bath two days before my murder. Nobody would believe it. I sure don’t.
“What are you doing?”
It’s like he can’t hear my question, or chooses not to. Instead, he dips a thick washcloth into the water before running it over my body.
“Relax, Sugar. This is all about you. Okay?”
Relax. Easy for him to say. I have two days left to live, and he wants me to relax? Now I’m envisioning something more along the lines of being a sacrifice for these guys. Like when ancient people would bathe and perfume their sacrifice and dress the poor girl or guy up in special clothes before taking them to a temple and slitting their throats.
Well, neither of my captors seem like they’d know anything about that, but there’s no telling. Both have a strange, keen intelligence I wish I could unlock. Their files mentioned their mental prowess, but I couldn’t have imagined the extent until I met them.
“You’re a million miles away, Sugar.” Ryker slides the cloth up my arm, reaching my shoulder.
“Wouldn’t you be if your life had an expiration date on it?” I stop short of telling him I overheard their plans, but just barely.
He snickers, rubbing my shoulder. “Sugar, life always has an expiration date.” I guess I can understand that. “The point is enjoying every minute you have. Don’t you know that?”
The combination of Epsom salt and his gentle kneading makes my muscles loose and, well, it’s wonderful. Instead of moving down my back the way I expect him to, he washes my chest, slow and teasing. He must feel my heart pounding away and I really wish it wouldn’t betray me. I don’t want him to know what he does to me.
Try as I might, there’s no holding back a soft gasp when he rubs his thumb over my already peaked nipple. “Why waste time worrying?” His voice is lower now, seductive, mixing with the heat from the water and smell of the soap, creating a blanket of confused pleasure all around me.
I want to go along with what he’s saying—and judging from the way my breath picks up speed the lower his hand dips, my body does, too. By the time he’s below my navel, I’ve already spread my thighs as wide as the tub will allow me.
A glance at him reveals a knowing smirk. “See? Once you get out of your head and relax, your body knows what to do.”
I wish he’d stop talking and keep touching me, because the fire in my core has nothing to do with the water’s heat. I pull my lower lip under my teeth when he cups my mound and massages it. “So sweet, this pussy.” He groans. “You have no idea how much I want this cunt wrapped around my cock.”
I barely bite back a moan as my head falls against the rim of the tub.
“That’s right, Sugar. Let go. Let me make you feel good.” He ditches the cloth in favor of parting my lips with his fingers, running them up and down the inside of my cleft while avoiding my clit. This time I groan out loud—I need release and he’s torturing me.
“Once you’re better tomorrow, all bets are off. Fair warning.” He chuckles, dark and promising, but the sound cuts off when he finally contacts my clit and I moan into the steamy air. He rubs in slow, deliberate circles. “I’m going to fuck you until you weep with pleasure. You’ll lose track of the number of times I make you come on my cock.”