Avrora
I watch the water spraying over his body. His perfect, naked body with his cock already erect and massive, bobbing between his legs.
And oh God, I looked at it. Again.
I look away, but now Anatoli is grinning at me because he caught me looking at his dick. My skin has turned several shades of crimson, so I can't even hide my embarrassment.
"I already told you if it pleases you to look, then look." He lowers his voice purposely, making it sound velvety smooth and sensual.
"It doesn't please me." He wouldn't know I'm looking because, of course he's hot, but he's the first naked man I've ever seen.
"Well I much prefer you this way." He leans back in and pulls my hands away from my breasts, then parts my legs so he can look at my pussy properly. "Don't hide yourself from me."
The same wild look from the other night comes into his eyes and I'm glad the water is pouring over us because I can feel my arousal gathering between my thighs.
Something must be really wrong with me if I can be aroused by my captor.
The man is dangerous and will probably kill me when all is said and done.
I try to remember that but when his gaze roves over me with slow seduction, a spark of desire sets off the nest of bats in my stomach.
My throat tightens with anticipation because I know his presence here like this can only mean one thing.
"What are you going to do to me?" I hate how small my voice sounds.
"Not sure yet. I'm thinking of how we can make up for last night."
Christ. I'm right. And I'm not prepared. I'm still shaky from my nightmare.
And I'm just not prepared.
He turns away to get the bottle of shower gel sitting on the double glass shelf near him.
As his back is turned to me my eyes go straight to the burn scar and for the millionth time I wonder how he got it.
When he turns back to me he catches me looking and he gives me a strange smile I can't figure out.
"Ugly, isn't it?" He pins me with an inquisitive stare.
"I don't think it's ugly."
"Well, that's good. I haven't had any complaints so far. Most women think a man with some scars is sexy."
They do, and his does, but a closer look speaks of more. More pain. More horror. "Did it hurt?"
"I nearly died, I'm lucky it's the only visible damage that remains."
It hits me that he's sharing information about himself again.
"How did you get it?" I'm eager for an answer but he shakes his head.
"Story for another time, baby girl." The guard shielding his deeper thoughts slips for a heartbeat and I pay attention to the soullessness and desolation in his eyes.
The last person I knew who looked remotely close to that was Mom.
Mom, the night before she decided she no longer wanted to be a part of this world.
When he blinks the look is gone.
Gone and replaced with malice.
"Time to make up for last night." He winks, reminding me that he's an asshole.
I almost felt sorry for him. Anybody who looks like he just did must be broken inside.
I understand what broken feels like because I feel it every time I think of Mom. And every time I think something isn't quite right with me.
"Why do I have to make up for anything?"
"Because men have needs."
"Isn't Queen Gytha around to tend to your needs?" Mustering courage I don't feel, I lift my chin. But my courage becomes short-lived when he pushes me back into the wall.
"You're here. I had fun with you the other night. You had fun with me too."
"You were punishing me." I harden my stare to avoid arguing because I have no other explanation for coming all over his face.
"You deserved to be punished." He traces a finger down my belly and my breath hitches. "And you still do. God knows what you could have stolen from my office."
"I told you what I was doing and why. Do you seriously believe I made up that shit?"
His eyes pierce into me. "No. I don't think that. I believe that part. I think you have bigger things to worry about than making up a story about a family crest."
As sinister as his words are, hearing him say he believes me infuses me with an unexpected spark of hope.
"If you believe me then stop punishing me."
He shakes his head. "No."
"Why?"
"I don't want to."
He stops my next words by continuing the fiery path down my stomach.
His finger goes down, down, down, stopping at my mound. There he strokes the skin making my body fill with erotic expectancy.
It's almost unbearable and I don't want to like it. But I do.
"I've just had the confirmation that you're clean." He looks from my pussy to my face.
My temper flares. "I told you I was clean."
"Now I know for sure. So we can have more fun and play in other ways."
"Like... what?"
"How about we see where this shower takes us." He squeezes some of the gel out of the bottle, cups my sex, and rubs it on my mound. My head spins and I suck in a sharp breath, trying to stop myself from falling over.