But it was undeniable that my body instinctively reacted to him, so the knowledge that the balance of power wasn’t entirely stacked against me gave me some courage. I wrapped my hand around his length and stroked him from base to head.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice more ragged than I’d ever heard it. He was at the edge of his control. I wanted to push him over that edge, to break him the way he’d broken me.
He reached between us with his soap-slicked hand and applied a liberal amount. When I slid my fist back, it glided across his flesh, and he groaned.
“Do you know how hot it is watching you touch me?” he ground out. “Knowing I’m the first man you’ve touched. The only man you will ever touch. Your first and only, my sweet virgin.” A bead of moisture formed on his cockhead, quickly washed away by the cascading warm water.
Emboldened by his words, I used my free hand to cup his balls, gently exploring their shape and weight.
He rasped out something in Spanish that I suspected was a very dirty word. A sly smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I struggled to smother it. He was coming apart beneath my touch, losing control. The heady sense of power that I’d been resisting finally settled over me, and I handled his shaft with greater confidence.
“Naughty gatita,” he said hoarsely. His hand fisted in my wet hair, tugging hard enough to make my scalp light up with awareness. “Very naughty.” He cursed again, and his grip on my coppery strands increased to the edge of pain. It only served to spur me on.
“Make me come, sirenita,” he ordered in an obvious effort to take back control with a command.
But the way he pumped his hips toward me to increase my pace let me know who truly held the power in this moment. He came apart on a harsh shout, his hot seed lashing out to coat my stomach, the heat of it lingering on my flesh even as the water washed it away.
His body pressed against mine, backing me up to the tiled wall as he braced his hands against either side of me. He leaned his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
“That’s enough,” he said with a shudder.
I finally moved my hand away, satisfied at the sight of his undoing.
A sharp grin suddenly lit his features. “Time for your reward, gatita.”
“What?” I asked, disconcerted by his jovial mood. I’d expected his anger at being broken under my inexperienced hands, maybe even shame.
“Good girls get positive reinforcement.” He tenderly stroked my cheek. “Remember, my pet?” He leaned in so his hot breath played across my neck as he whispered in my ear. “Your Master is training you to please him. You did very well. You’ve earned a reward.”
“No,” I said, shaken. How had this turned against me? I’d been riding high, triumphant. He twisted my victory into yet another defeat.
“You don’t get to refuse, pet.”
“I’m not your pet.”
“Aren’t you? You wanted to act like a naughty gatita. You will be tamed, Samantha.”
“I won’t.”
“Your little pussy wouldn’t get so wet for me if you didn’t want this. You wouldn’t have come so hard while you were bound and at my mercy.”
“That’s so fucked up. You’re—”
His hand clamped over my mouth, his long fingers pressing into my cheek almost to the point of pain.
“We’re going to have to work on that tongue of yours. I have a pretty gag that I think will suit you well until you can learn to mind your language when you speak to me.”
My eyes flew wide, and I tried to shake my head. His hand firmed on my face, stilling the sign of my denial.
“Hush now, gatita. It’s time for your reward.”
I brought my hands up and wrapped them around his forearm, clawing at his flesh with my fingernails in an attempt to free my mouth from his cruel hold.
He growled and released me, but only long enough so he could roughly turn my body to face the wall. His weight pressed against my back, pushing my breasts hard against the cold tiles. I yelped and tried to push back, but my hands slipped uselessly against the slick wall. He wrapped one hand around my throat, squeezing. This time, he applied enough pressure to restrict my airflow. I thrashed on wild instinct, but his weight kept me pinned and powerless.
Please, I tried to beg him to release me, but the word couldn’t make it past his hold on my throat, and a strangled sound emerged instead.
“Breathe, cosita,” he urged, not letting up.
I barely managed to suck in shallow breaths. My head began to spin, and I stopped fighting as the strength seeped out of my body. His free hand dipped between my legs, gathering up the slick arousal that inexplicably coated my inner thighs. He moved his touch farther back, trailing his slick forefinger over a sensitive patch of skin between my sex and asshole, then…
No. My lips formed the word, but I wasn’t capable of wasting any air to make a sound of protest.
His finger pressed against my tight ring of muscles. I clenched, resisting. He nipped at my earlobe, and the little jolt of pain sizzled through me, reaching my core and making it throb. As it contracted, his finger slipped inside me. He barely penetrated me, but I felt horribly full and utterly trapped. My knees began to tremble as I continued to struggle for oxygen.
“Are you sorry for scratching me?” he asked calmly, as though he wasn’t degrading me in a way I’d never wanted to experience.
I managed a thin whine and nodded slightly.
He kissed the hollow beneath my ear. “Good girl. Don’t do it again.”
He pressed forward, sealing the rebuke by sliding his long finger all the way inside me. My muscles rippled around him, burning as my body tried to resist the intrusion. Something dark stirred low in my belly, tension coiling at my core.
He finally released my throat, and I gasped in a desperate breath. The rush of oxygen went straight to my head, and the world spun around me. Remaining seated deep inside my most forbidden area, he caught my falling weight with his other strong arm around my waist. I sagged back against him, sucking in air. His hand splayed beneath my bottom, bracing me as a second finger found my wet channel. He eased inside my sex, and I could feel him filling me everywhere.
It was too much to bear, too humiliating. Too stimulating. Rational thought had been obliterated in the wake of the primal imperative to breathe, to survive. My body could only shake and submit to what he was doing to me. All my sensitive nerve endings lit up, and the tension that had been coiling deep inside me released, leaving me on a ragged shout. My muscles clenched around his fingers as I found shameful ecstasy under his ruthless touch. He gently pumped in and out of me, making my nerve endings crackle and dance. Sparks of pleasure raced up my spine to flood my mind, overwhelming all my senses.
The spinning world flickered around me, darkness sliding across my vision. I surrendered to it, closing my eyes as he continued to hold my weakened body upright.
His fingers finally slid out of me, leaving me feeling strangely empty; hollowed out and utterly defeated. The water stopped falling around us, and he lifted me up in his arms again as though I weighed nothing. He was so strong, so hard and unyielding. A fine tremor raced through my exhausted body, the only movement I was capable of.
He wrapped a warm, fluffy towel around me. I snuggled into it, hiding my face between the soft fabric and his sculpted chest, as though I could simply sink into the warmth and disappear. Anything would be preferable to facing the shame of what he’d just done to me.
I’d thought I’d regained some power over him when I’d made him come, but he’d quickly demonstrated how powerless I truly was. His punitive touch had brought me pleasure, pleasure I hadn’t wanted but had been wrought from my body by his masterful hands regardless of my wishes.
He’d claimed he wasn’t going to break me, but in that moment, I felt completely shattered.
Chapter 8
Andrés carefully dried my body, rubbing the soft towel over every inch of my sensitized skin. My nipples and sex ached, and
my bottom burned slightly, a constant, cruel reminder of how he’d subjugated my entire being.
When he was satisfied that I was dry, something tugged at my damp hair. I registered the rhythmic pull of brush bristles through my hair, massaging my scalp. It made my head tingle, a pleasant sensation I tried to deny.
“I’m not a doll,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes closed to avoid facing reality. I remained still and compliant where he’d placed me in his lap. I couldn’t muster up the will to fight.
“Hmmm,” he mused, continuing to run the brush through my hair in methodical strokes. “You’re not a pet. You’re not a doll. Is there anything you do want to be, sirenita?”
“What does that mean?” I asked instead of answering his question. He was teasing me, and I refused to rise to it. If I did, he’d likely devise another devious way to prove to me that I would be whatever he wanted me to be.
“A literal translation would be little mermaid,” he said.
I finally opened my eyes to study his face. Was he mocking me?
“You mean, like the Disney princess?” I asked.
He chuckled. “It’s an endearment. It means I find you beautiful.” He traced the line of my lower lip with his thumb. “Sensual.”
I blinked at him. No one had ever called me beautiful. And definitely not sensual. I was the awkward geek who was barely worth noticing, unless it was to make fun of me.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, reading my confusion. “Do you think my cock would get so hard for you if I didn’t want you? You are lovely, sirenita.”
“You’re trying to manipulate me,” I accused, not quite believing him. Maybe he got turned on by dominating women, and my physical appearance had nothing to do with it. That made much more sense. “It won’t work.”
“It already is working. I’m not lying when I say I find you beautiful. But everything I do to you is a manipulation, and I won’t pretend otherwise. You’re being very sweet and well behaved right now. If I’d known how obedient you’d become when I played with your ass, I would have filled it sooner. You came so hard for me. I thought you were going to pass out. I think you enjoy being manipulated, being shaped into my good girl.”
I scowled at him. “You’re a bastard.”
“That might be true. But you will learn to speak to me with respect. There’s a consequence coming for that, but right now, you need to eat.”
I almost said I wasn’t hungry, the urge to defy him automatic. But my stomach was very aware that I hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. I still didn’t know what time it was, but it was now dark outside. That meant I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, because I hadn’t trusted the breakfast Andrés had sent up for me.
“Okay,” I agreed, trying to sound resentful and failing. I was far too hungry.
Now that I’d finally opened my eyes, I noted that Andrés was seated on the edge of the bed, with me perched on his lap. He reached around me and tugged at the small food cart. A silver dome covered the plate, and when he removed it, I realized that my wasted breakfast had been removed and replaced with a mouthwatering steak.
My cheeks heated even as my stomach growled. That meant someone had come into the bedroom while we were in the shower. Had they heard my lustful scream?
I didn’t have much time to worry over it, because my basic needs were too insistent. A jug of water sat on the cart beside two empty glasses. I reached for it and filled one, immediately gulping it down.
“You didn’t drink anything today, either?” Andrés asked, his voice heavy with disapproval.
“I thought you might drug me again,” I reminded him.
“And you believe I won’t now?”
I shrugged. “I figured that steak is huge enough for two people. There are two glasses, one water jug. So I’m assuming that you’re not going to drug yourself too, you know?” I poured another glass and drank half of it before moving to pick up the utensils. I was so famished, all I could think about was cutting into the steak and getting some food in my system. No wonder I’d been so weak in my attempts to fight my captor.
He caught my hand before I could touch the silverware and guided it back to my lap. He also took the water glass from me and set it down beside the plate.
“Do you really think I’m going to let you handle a fork and knife?” he asked drily.
I glowered at him. “I just want some fucking food. I’m starving.”
He frowned, his scar deepening to a disapproving slash. “I will train your tongue later,” he warned. “And I’m sure you’re hungry, which is more pressing than your punishment. I will always see to your wellbeing, Samantha, but don’t continue to test me.”
“I wasn’t going to use the knife on you,” I said honestly. “I just want to eat.”
“I’m going to take care of you, cosita. Trust me.”
I snorted. “You’re not really giving me a choice. Is it trust if you don’t have a choice? Probably not. No, I don’t think it is. Nope. Definitely not.”
He studied me for a moment, something like a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Do you always speak this way?”
“What way?”
“You talk very fast. Like you’re speaking every thought that comes into your head as it comes to you. Are you doing it because you’re nervous around me? Is this the same as why you don’t like looking at people?”
“I mean, I guess,” I admitted. “But I don’t talk like this because I’m nervous. Well, I guess it’s worse when I’m nervous. I just have a lot of thoughts, and they kind of pop out, like you said. My brain is really busy all the time. Like, my thoughts never slow down. I can’t focus on only one thing at a time, unless it’s really challenging.”
“You focus on me quite intently,” he said, grinning with smug satisfaction. “Does that mean you find me challenging?”
“It means I find you terrifying,” I shot back, but there was less malice in my tone than I’d intended. There was something odd about speaking to him so earnestly. I’d never been able to hold back vocalizing my thoughts when pressed by a domineering male, but this was different. I didn’t feel particularly nervous at the moment. I was too concerned with my need to eat, and Andrés’ arms were relaxed around me. He wasn’t threatening me.
At the moment.
He laughed. “Such a feisty gatita. You’re not terrified. Not like you should be. Then again, I suppose I haven’t shown you what I’m fully capable of yet.” His smile somehow seemed to show all of his teeth, and I shrank back a little. That just made him laugh again, a sound of pure, arrogant amusement. “I promised to feed you, and it’s getting cold,” he effectively ended the disconcerting conversation.
His arms surrounded me on either side as he reached forward and picked up the knife and fork. He cut the steak into several small pieces, then shifted the utensils into one fist. I supposed he was smart not to set them down where I could reach them, but I really was too hungry and weak to try to stab him at the moment.
He picked up a piece of steak between his fingers and lifted it to my lips.
I looked up at him, confused. “What are you doing?”
“Feeding my pet.” He was still smiling, but something darker stirred in his black stare. “Aren’t you hungry, gatita?”
I blew out a sigh. “Fine. But only because I’m hungry, not because I’m your pet.”
“Can’t you be both?”
“No.”
He chuckled, but he didn’t argue with me again. “Eat.”
Too hungry to continue resisting, I parted my lips and reached for the morsel with my tongue. I probably should have bitten him just for being a bastard, but I really wanted to eat. Besides, he’d mentioned another punishment and warned me not to test him. Biting him probably counted as worse than testing.
As soon as the steak hit my tongue, rich flavors exploded in my mouth, and a soft moan of appreciation left my chest. I loved a good steak, and this one was cooked to perfection. I wrapped my lips around his
fingers without thinking, sucking the juices from them as I sought more of the delicious flavor.
“You like carne asada?” he asked, his voice rougher than the simple question should have called for.
I pulled back from his fingers, and they left my mouth with a small pop.
“I like meat,” I said. “All kinds of meat. If it used to moo, I’ll definitely eat it. This is so good. I want more.”
“Greedy and savage,” he remarked, his voice lilting with laughter. “You can have as much as you want.”
“I’m not savage,” I grumbled. “I couldn’t even kill you properly.”
“No, you couldn’t,” he said calmly, obviously remembering my pathetic attempt to attack him with his razor. “I don’t think you have it in you. That doesn’t mean I’ll give you access to a knife anytime soon, though.”
“I’m a trained field agent,” I said, feeling defensive, mostly because I should have been capable of fighting him more effectively than I’d managed so far.
“Not a very good one.” He said it like a simple observation, not an insult.
And honestly, was it an insult if it was the truth?
“I shouldn’t have transferred from tech analyst,” I lamented aloud. If I hadn’t tried to go into the field, I wouldn’t be in this shitty situation.
“Probably not,” he agreed. “My brother has his own tech team. They looked into you. By all accounts, they were very impressed. It’s why Cristian let you live.”
“Because he wants me to protect him from the FBI,” I said glumly. “He wants me to save his miserable life.” I tensed, suddenly worried that Andrés might not take kindly to me insulting his brother.
“He does,” he responded in a monotone. I couldn’t read any particular emotion in it. “And you will. It’s my job to make sure you do. You won’t do it for Cristian, but for me. I want you to stop thinking about my brother and start thinking about pleasing me. And you can start by finishing your meal.”
Falling For The Forbidden Page 137
