I hissed when my weight settled on my damaged soles, cursing myself for my choice to remove my shoes when I fled from Stefano through my crumbling manor. My misguided strategy had cost me dearly, leaving me crippled and unable to properly defend myself.
“Stop that,” he ordered, his tone clipped with impatience. “You’ll tear your stitches.”
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I attempted to widen my stance, preparing to lash out.
Rather than grabbing me, he came to an abrupt stop. Less than two feet of space separated our bodies. He could have easily attacked and overpowered me. We both knew I was in no condition to fight him off, no matter how hard I tried.
He frowned down at me, his fists clenching and releasing at his sides, as though he was struggling to purge the aggressive impulse from his flexing muscles.
“I don’t want you to be in any more pain,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gravelly. “I want to carry you. Let me.”
My brows lifted. “Aren’t you going to say please?” I taunted him to conceal my shock. Things would be so much simpler if he would just attack. I could fight him. Even though I would inevitably lose, I could at least maintain my pride.
His nostrils flared, a provoked beast. He crossed his arms over his chest, physically preventing himself from making a grab for me.
“No,” he replied flatly. “I’m not going to say please. But if you break open a single stitch, I will punish you for it.”
The ultimatum was set: comply or be subjected to an unknown consequence.
I couldn’t afford for him to chip away at my control any more than he already had. When he’d bathed me, he’d managed to reduce me to a needy, sensual mess. I shuddered to think how much more I would surrender to him if he really put his hands on me. Last night, he’d threatened to spank me. It wasn’t the pain I feared, but my body’s helpless, lustful response to his harshly domineering hands.
“Fine,” I managed stiffly. “You can carry me.”
Immediately, his strong arms closed around me, easily maneuvering me exactly where he wanted.
“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” His elated grin was so wide that I couldn’t tell whether or not his pleasure was tainted by cruel satisfaction.
“For me? Not at all. You’re the one doing the heavy lifting.” I made an absentminded little wave, implying that he was doing me a service rather than manipulating me into resentful surrender.
“I’m so glad you’re pleased with the arrangement, too. Look at us, living in domestic bliss. And you thought we hated each other.”
I blinked up at him. The extent of his insanity was truly baffling. “We do hate each other,” I reminded him.
He dropped a doting kiss on my forehead. “Whatever you say, darling.”
“Sociopath,” I grumbled as he sat me down on the bed.
He shot me a wicked smirk and locked the cuff around my ankle, leashing me for the day. “You know, that’s starting to sound like a very sweet endearment, kitten.”
“It’s an insult.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, it’s just the truth. One that you’ve known for a long time. You understand me, Carmen. I like that I don’t have to pretend around you.”
I eyed him levelly. “You’ve never pretended to be sane around anyone.”
“No, but I have turned behaving insanely into an art form. It gets tedious after a while. Everyone else spooks so easily.” He moved in closer, pressing his chest against mine, so I was pinned beneath him. “But not you, kitten. You see me as I really am.”
“You have seriously misjudged the situation between us.” I tried not to breathe in his intoxicating scent. For years, I’d forgotten it. But ever since he’d entered my home and pinned me in the dirt, it had become an instantaneous, irresistible stimulant to the most traitorous parts of my body.
“Have I?” he challenged softly, his calloused palms brushing along my arms.
He captured my wrists, and I didn’t attempt to defy him. He’d gotten me into this position too many times over the last two days for me to bother putting effort into struggling. This only ended one way: with my arms trapped above my head while he reveled in his power over me. He enjoyed my struggles, so I would deny him the satisfaction.
“You made that remarkably easy for me,” he commented. “I think you’ll regret not causing me more trouble.”
Cool metal encircled my wrists, and the definitive click of cuffs locking made my heartbeat falter. I craned my head back and tugged against the restraints, earning nothing but bruising pain from the unyielding steel.
“When did those get there?” I demanded, glaring at the handcuffs that had been looped around one of the artfully decorated, wrought iron bars on Stefano’s bedframe.
He hummed his satisfaction, caressing my cheek. “You were very sleepy this morning, kitten. I had time to arrange several surprises for you.”