Sordid (Sordid 1)

Teeth latched onto my neck as his pinch on my nipple suddenly turned white-hot with pain. I cried out and went limp. Luka put his hand on the center of my back and shoved me on the bed, back into the position I’d been in before.

“Three point one four one five nine two six five.” It spilled from my lips without thought. I just wanted it over. His hold on my wrists eased away, and I left them there, crossed behind my back. They’d gone too numb to move anyway.

As soon as he stepped back from me, I slid down the bed, collapsing into a puddle on the floor. I dug my fingertips into the thick carpet, trying to ground myself. To hold myself together.

Things went hazy.

“Shh,” a voice whispered in my ear. “It’s over. We won’t have to do that again.”

I was sitting on the bed, and Luka’s arms were around me. Holding me in an embrace. Was I having traumatic delusions? I wondered what the hell his statement meant.

His lips feathered kisses over the curve of my neck, and he continued to whisper soft, reassuring words that only made my confusion worse. My hands clung to his forearm, holding him tight to me, which was in direct conflict of what I wanted. His fingertips brushed against my bare shoulder, and it made my skin crawl. I hated him touching me this way. Softly, as if I were something he cared about.

My mind screamed in protest, but my outer shell stayed hard and silent.

His expression had been unassuming, but layer by layer, his gaze went cold. The shift that went through him was obvious. Whatever game he was playing with me had just resumed. The bed we were on sat in the corner of the room so I was trapped. I couldn’t get off without him stopping me, so I’d have to bide my time.

“What’s your plan?” he asked lazily.

I stared at him. He didn’t deserve anything from me, including the sound of my voice.

“For escape?” he continued. “You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll try. But let me fill you in on the reality.” He brought his face level with mine. “Assuming you make it to an exit, the house has a security system and alerts are sent to my phone. You won’t be able to get a door or window open without me knowing about it. And once you get outside, then what? Where will you go?” He scrubbed a hand over his jawline. “The house isn’t close to anyone else.”

He climbed off the bed and pointed to the bathroom.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

When I didn’t move, his shoulders lifted and fell in a sigh.

“Addison.” His tone was harsh. “Do what I tell you, or I’ll make you. I didn’t really enjoy what just happened, but it was necessary, and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

I shuddered and tried not to think about it. My lower body was on fire from where he’d spanked me. I was too shell-shocked to go through it again, and forced my body to cooperate. So I moved like a zombie into the bathroom, and stood beside the sink with my arms crossed over my chest, as if it could shelter my bra-clad breasts from his eyes. He went to the large whirlpool tub and ran the tap, adjusting the water temperature. The rushing water was the only sound in the room as he filled the bath.

While he waited, he stood and rested his hands on his hips, his attention focused on me. I couldn’t hold his gaze. I blinked rapidly, staring at the wall. It was so unfair. Yesterday I would have quivered over how good he looked. His strong arms and trim frame was accentuated beneath the fitted t-shirt, and jeans which hung perfectly on his hips. Now I cowered in fear, simply from his intense stare.

“Take off your clothes.”

I clutched my arms tighter around myself, and my pulse began to climb.

His footsteps signaled his approach, and I sensed the shadow blocking out the light, but I refused to look at him. So I flinched when his warm fingertips lightly touched my shoulder. I stood motionless as those fingers curled over my bra strap and began to drag it down.

He’s already seen you, I thought bitterly. Let him think there are no more surprises from you, and use it to escape.

My arms were pried slowly from my chest, and as the cup of my bra was pulled down, his mouth closed on my neck. What the fuck was he doing? He’d raped me last night, assaulted me moments ago, and his soft, gentle attitude now crossed the wires in my brain. I couldn’t handle it.

He unhooked the bra and pulled it away from my shuddering chest. I was heaving my breath, struggling to remain indifferent. I’d pushed him earlier and he’d escalated, so maybe if I did nothing, he’d leave me alone.