Bound to Cruelty - Page 48

“You raise a hand to me again, and I’ll make you pay for it,” he grits between his teeth. “You being a spoiled brat is practically your brand. Something I didn’t think you were ashamed of until right this second.”

I wrap my arms over my breasts, hiding my body. We are not having this conversation right now while we are both naked.

He jerks my loofah from a hook, glares at me, and adds soap to it. I’m about to ask what he’s doing when he uses it on me. Spreading the lather over my shoulder, down my arm, then prying my hand loose to wash my breasts.

“What are you doing?” It’s a dumb question, but I can’t help it. Why is he washing my body when I slapped him? When I’ve called him names, pushed him away, and done everything possible to make his life miserable?

I swat at his hands, trying to keep them off me. “Stop it. I can wash my body. Just leave me alone.”

It’s so much easier to push them all away. The second I allow anyone in, they take advantage. Every single person, save my family, has betrayed me in some way. They see me as a commodity. My body, my position, my power. It’s all to buy, sell, or trade.

Men think if they can gain my heart, I’ll give them anything. Women think if they can gain my trust, I’ll give them everything.

There are maybe a handful of people I actually trust, and with the way Michail looks at me, I can’t allow him to join that list. Not when I already want him to take all of me.

To keep all of me. For once in my life, I don’t want to be alone, and yet I have no frame of reference for what such a thing even looks like.

The water at our feet is faintly pink, and the second I notice the color, my knees wobble. Michail scoops me against him, and I gasp. There’s something carnal about two wet, slick bodies sliding along each other. And Michail has a lot of muscle and height to rub up against.

“Just leave me alone,” I try again.

He ignores me and uses his soapy loofah to scrub down my back, then around to my ass, and finally to my legs. Once every inch of me is soaped up, he steps back enough to stand under the other shower head and gives himself a cursory scrub.

I reach for my hair, spreading it out so I can wash it. It’s been a few days, and I’d hate it if I found blood in it later.

He doesn’t allow me to wash my hair either. All I can do is stand and huff while he scrubs at my scalp with his strong fingers. Damn it, why does he have to be so good at practically everything?

When every bit of me is clean, he pushes me into the tile wall again. The steam has heated it, but I can’t help but shiver at a few chilled bits of stone.

“Talk to me,” he says, his eyes roving over my bare flesh still, never up to my eyes.

“What do you want me to say? What will it take to get you to let me out of this shower so I can take care of myself?”

He shakes his head. “Not a damn thing. The cleaner is out there, and I won’t allow another man to see you naked.”

My stomach does a flip-flop at the way he says it. The sheer arrogance of his tone lights me up. This is a man who goes after what he wants, and for some reason, he’s decided to want me, even if it’s such a bad idea.

“Oh, yeah? And if I walk out there right now?” It’s a challenge, and nothing more. I don’t want some random stranger to see me naked any more than he does.

But his voice is soft and deadly serious as he answers. “I’ll put a bullet into his brain and anyone else dumb enough to look.”

It takes me a second to assimilate that he is serious. He’d kill someone for looking at me. Where was this man when he wanted sucked off under the table, or when he might have fucked me on a random office desk? What’s changed to make him think I belong to him?

“You don’t control me. The only reason I’m not kicking you out of my house right now is because you’re pretty to look at. Don’t, for a second, think that I’ve got feelings for you.”

Fuck. The venom I use to keep others away poured out of me before I could reel it back in. It has to be the shock from the fresh attack and the sheer domination in Michail’s gaze as he stares at me. Men have coveted me before, but I’ve never wanted them to succeed in taking me. Not like I want Michail too. Even in his dominance, he’s beautiful, or maybe he’s beautiful for his dominance. I don’t allow myself to consider it too closely. Not when the heat in his eyes fizzles, while every part of me still burns.

Tags: J.L. Beck Romance
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