But my words changed his mind.
Somehow.
They made him rethink his actions, made him wonder what kind of man he wanted to be. Knowing that I’d ever wanted him made him question his behavior. What kind of man forced a woman to submit? A real man convinced her to submit. That truth hit him hard and made him reexamine everything he wanted.
Then he let me go.
I couldn’t believe it.
He unlocked every chain and set me free. Then he sat at the edge of the bed, his anger and desire subdued.
I could have just walked out and returned to my room, but I didn’t. I admired his decision. I admired him for listening to me. Egor never cared for my pleas or tears. He never cared about me as a human being. Carter might have darker aspects, might not be a gentleman, but he certainly had compassion.
He had a heart.
He was a good man…in his own way.
I hadn’t been treated with any kind of respect for years, but Carter was good to me. His heart was pure and easily swayed. He didn’t have blood lust in his veins, not like other men. He wasn’t evil.
Not at all.
And that made me want him, made me want to give him something. Sex was on my terms, and that made me want to feel him between my legs, to enjoy him when I never allowed myself to.
I did enjoy it—immensely.
This was a new beginning for us. Whether he let me go the next morning or not, we had a connection now. If I just let it be, he would let me be free eventually. If I asked enough times, he would do it.
There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind.
Carter Barsetti was a good man.
So I lay beside him in the darkness, not interested in slitting his throat while he slept. He was kind to me, and now I wanted to be kind to him. He pleased me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. Actually, I’d never been satisfied like that. I’d never been with a man who had Carter’s raging masculinity, had his level of confidence. Seeing him want me so much, despite the fact that I was a victim of rape and torture, made me feel beautiful for the first time in years. He didn’t care where I’d been, about the men who took me before he laid eyes on me. Most men would be disgusted by it, judge me for the horrible things that were done to me on a regular basis. Not Carter.
Since he had a soft spot inside his chest, I knew I would be able to get away eventually. If we continued to sleep together and his heart softened even more, he wouldn’t be able to resist my request. Just as my earlier words made him drop the whip, he would do it again.
I could try to escape, but that might provoke his anger. Right now, he was kind and gentle, fucking me in a way Egor never did. If I let the peace continue, I would get my way eventually. Cane wasn’t a psychopath like the others. He had a heart underneath that concrete chest. It beat with compassion, understanding, and empathy. He would let me go.
I knew he would.
Neither one of us crossed the divide between us, not snuggling together like lovers after lovemaking. I watched his breathing return to normal as he slipped off into sleep. His hand rested on his stomach, slowly rising and falling with his deep breaths. When he was unconscious, the hardness of his face relaxed, and his jawline softened slightly. He looked handsome either way, but with his guard down, his true nature seemed to be more visible.
I couldn’t help but consider myself lucky, to appreciate the man beside me. After sleeping in chains and being whipped until I bled, Carter was a godsend. He was handsome, charming, and compassionate. He still kept me against my will, so I shouldn’t be too fond of him, but I was. I felt my heart soften the way his did for me.
I actually liked him.
And I liked the way he pleased me, caring about our mutual pleasure instead of his own exclusively. He gave me the greatest sex of my life, sex so good I didn’t think it was possible. When my ankles were locked around his waist, I didn’t think about the last three years of my life. All I thought about was the two of us, a man and a woman, doing something natural and beautiful.
I didn’t think sex could be beautiful anymore.
I knew he wouldn’t want to sleep with me, so I maneuvered to the edge of the bed and sat up. My skin smelled like sweat and sex, and my hair was tangled from the way he’d fisted it. He fucked me like I was the only woman he wanted for the rest of his life. Did he fuck every woman like that?