Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
She is to please me. Just that. I can do with her what I want.
Clearly this scares her.
I do want her. Now that I haven't been eating the drugged food they've been shoving in my direction, other wants have been surfacing. Other needs. I dream about her smaller body under mine, and what it will feel like to have her open up to me, to take me into her tight sheath. I want to stare at her naked body that's right in front of me, even though I don't have permission to look. I want to see if it matches my fantasies. Of course I want her.
But I want more than just a convenient cunt. If that was all I wanted, I could have been given any slave.
But I wanted her.
"You're scared," I point out, blunt.
"I'm t-t-trying to s-s-stop," she manages, teeth clacking into one another.
She's cold, too, it seems. I don't like that, either. I move to my bed, grab the blanket that she gave me, the one that smells like her, and move back to her side. I wrap it carefully around her, tucking it close.
That surprises her. She stops staring at a spot on the wall and glances at me, confusion on her face. "Why…?" She pauses, and then purses her lips, as if biting back the rest of her words.
"Because you're cold. I can't think when I'm cold." Her soft-looking hair is trapped under the edge of the blanket and I free the delicate strands, trying to ignore that she flinched when I reached for her. "You won't look at me?"
"I wanted to know what you wanted with me," she says. "You said you didn't know. I guess you figured it out, huh?"
Her tone is odd, bitter. "I want you in here, with me."
"A slave for the slave?"
My frown deepens. I want…a companion. But saying that aloud makes me sound weak. I don't need anyone or anything. I don't want to need anyone. The last thing I want is to give the scientist and the lord he serves more leverage against me. "I want you here with me," I say again, because that is the simplest explanation for it.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asks.
I frown. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Why would I ask for you if I just intended to kill you? I don't want you dead."
"You want a slave," she repeats bluntly. "If all you want is someone to swing by and pick up your socks, I don't have to sleep here. I can come by daily and tidy things for you."
I scowl. "But then you will leave. This way, you stay with me. You will stay in my bed. You will talk to me and share meals with me."
This doesn't reassure her. She hitches the blanket higher around her shoulders and gives me another fierce look. "So you're going to rape me, then?"
Am I? I consider this. It would be nothing to overpower her. To shove her down and push her thighs open and do what I like with her. Her fear-scent would be unending, then. And…she would not like me. She would be angry. Permanently. I imagine what it would be like for her to hate me. She laughed once, the sound soft and sweet.
I want that again. I do not want to destroy her for a moment's pleasure. I want…I don't know what I want. More of her everything.
"No rape," I say gruffly. "I didn't push for you to be here just for you to hate me."
"What did you think would happen? That we'd be bosom buddies now that we're cellmates?" She looks at me like I'm crazy. "I'm not happy to be in here!"
I bare my teeth at her, frustrated. "It's not about what you want."
"It never is with you guys, is it?" Her tone is bitter, and she glares at me before dropping her gaze and leaning against the wall. "Some things never change."
I am stunned.
She thinks I'm the same as the others? The same ones that enslave me? That keep me as their toy? And yet…that's what I'm doing to her, isn't it? I can hear her sharp voice in my head, clear as day.
I don't like it. I want to tell her that I'm not like them. That I'm a prisoner as much as she is. What comes out isn't that, though. Instead, I find myself saying, "I like your scent."
"You could have asked. I would have sent you my laundry so you can jack off in it."
"Jack…off?" I am not familiar with these words.
She makes a crude gesture with her hand, indicating self-sex.
I snort at that. "I'm not sure you would talk to me if you found me jack-offing on your laundry."
Her lips twitch, and then she frowns ferociously at me again. "Damn right I wouldn't."