He bats it to the side with lightning-fast reflexes, causing it to land harmlessly on the coverlet. Disappointment fills my veins. Too bad he didn’t drink more; I would have liked to give him a concussion. With a sigh, as if I’m a small child, he grabs our glasses and carries them to the sideboard against the wall opposite my bed. I can only hope that he leaves, but I should know he wouldn’t make things that easy for me.
He walks slowly, precisely, a predator testing his prey. I know after what I just did I should be terrified. I should be running for it. But all I can do is lie here and watch the shape of his perfect ass in his stupidly tailored pants.
“Another way I know you’re lying.” He speaks into the room, his back still to me. “You continue fighting. If you didn’t care, you’d submit, succumb, serve yourself up to me in every way I’ve demanded of you.”
He turns, his gaze hot and heavy as he traces the curve of my body on the bed. “Why fight unless you’ve got something to lose?”
“Maybe I’m just not made for submission.” When he returns to the bed, he stands right next to me, forcing me to look up the long line of him.
“You will learn how to submit and if you’re truly frigid, I’ll take you outside and let you go.”
I suck in a sharp breath. I know he must be lying, or his offer comes with a terrible stipulation. Before I can ask the conditions of his offer, he continues speaking.
“If I put my mouth on you, and you don’t come, I’ll release you. Let you run off home to be a pampered little princess again. But if you come, you’ll have earned a punishment for throwing that glass at me.”
Fuck. I walked into this, looking straight at it. If he wants me to prove I don’t want him, I can do that. He’s a fucking monster, and if he wants something from me, he’s going to have to take it. I’d rally to my momentary bravery if he hadn’t already shown he doesn’t mind stealing whatever he wants.
“Come here, Celia,” he calls softly, as if he’s beckoning instead of commanding. As if he can coax me into participating.
It’s the first time I’ve heard my real name fall from his lips. Nausea rolls through me. It tastes like bourbon and betrayal.
I’ve kept him waiting too long. It takes him seconds to grab my ankle and drag me closer on the bed, shoving my thighs wide, so wide my hip joints protest. I’m exposed, a fragile, innocent flower, beaten by the sun and rain.
I swallow the yelp which threatens to slip out and try to wiggle away. But his grip tightens painfully enough that I freeze. With my legs open, he moves his hand to rest on top of my kneecaps. His face is a picture of innocence. The same face the devil makes right before he claims your soul.
“Take off your shirt. Show me how frigid you are.”
“Fuck you. I’m not doing a damn thing to make you think I’m volunteering for this,” I spit at him.
He shrugs, uncaring. “Take your shirt off, or I’ll rip it off, and you’ll remain naked for the rest of your stay with us.”
With trembling fingers, I slip the buttons from their holes. When I reach the last one, I look up at him through my lashes. “You promise if I don’t come, you’ll let me go?”
His eyes flash as he guides his hand to the shirt and flaps it open. “Let’s be honest, stellina. You’ve wanted this since the moment I walked in the door. Hell, I bet you wanted me the first night I brought you here. You wanted me, and you didn’t understand why. Didn’t understand how you could want a man as evil and menacing as me.”
I glare while he grips the edge of my panties and tugs them down. Not wanting to rip them, seeing as he’s likely not going to give me more, I lift my hips and let him draw the white cotton off at my feet. It’s my only concession.
Naked in front of him, terror swamps me. What is he going to do to me? I’m breathing heavily from my mouth, almost panting, because I can’t draw enough air through my nose.
“What do you want?” I whisper. “I’m supposed to be a virgin, remember?”
He takes his time looking me over, touching me anywhere he likes—a thumb over a small brown birthmark on my belly, an index finger across the top of my right breast.
“Yeah, you look like the picture of fucking reticence. You blush from your ears to your gorgeous pussy; did you know that?”
Heat washes through me. No doubt adding a brighter hue to my skin. Whatever. Maybe if he thinks I’m complying, he’ll be gentler.