had enough of that. So she let it go, and the chronic impulse to lock her joints and hold her breath ripped away.
When he climaxed, she felt limp, hollow. She knew, in that moment, the absence of fear was not synonymous with courage. She wasn’t brave. She was numb. Was that how Jay felt when his scars were inflicted? Or had he always been courageous?
He stripped the chain from the Craig’s hands and hauled her to her feet. “Don’t misunderstand why I killed him, Charlee.” He stepped close, and his rasp scraped against her lips. “I was furious. The fucker bet his daughter in a card game. He didn’t deserve to live.” His expression was as warped as his words, twisted way beyond normal. He seemed to catch himself and reached up to pet her hair. “Don’t force me to get that angry with you. I would not live without you again.”
Her head swam. He murdered because of the degeneracy of a father? The notion that he had some kind of paternal moral fiber stirred up all sorts of unsettling reflections, but one thought pushed away all the others. “Roy?”
His face slacked, his hand in her hair stopped mid-stroke, and she realized her mistake.
“Say it again.”
Lack of fear was apparently equated to stupidity. To hell with it. She steeled her backbone, determined to challenge him, and looked him in the eyes. “Roy.”
His mouth collided with hers, his tongue swiping in long strokes. “I love my name on your lips.”
That would be the last time he heard it there. “My birth control shot will expire soon.”
His eyes moved slowly, down, down, to her belly and his palm followed.
God, no. No, he wouldn’t want that.
He yanked his hand away, and the skin around his mouth tightened. “I’ll call the doctor.” He glared at her midriff and walked backward, hand curling around the leash. “I won’t share you with…a fucking kid.”
He turned toward the door and dragged her down the corridor. “You didn’t eat the oatmeal squares. There was a time when you never turned those down.”
“People change.” She plodded slowly behind him, spinning from his change of topics and navigating the untrodden territory of casual conversation with Roy Oxford.
“A challenge.” He winked over his shoulder. “You’ll teach me what you like now. You’ll show me every new and fascinating fiber you possess.”
“I’d rather not.” Her pulse accelerated. Had she stepped too far?
He paused, waited for her to catch up. “I’ll take that under consideration. You see? I’m not the tyrant you think I am.” He yanked the chain and made her stumble. “But I do hold the reins.”
Fucking dickhead
. If he didn’t want to be a tyrant, he could show her a little tenderness once in a while. She hungered for a connection to someone and if her only hope of ever receiving affection came from Roy, maybe it would’ve been better than none at all.
As they entered the last door on the left and walked to the center of the stockroom, she came to a realization. No matter what happened in the next few hours, her scars wouldn’t be a fraction as gruesome as Jay’s. If he were in her position, what would he have done to survive it emotionally?
He would’ve taken control the only way he could. She planted her feet.
The chain went taut and halted Roy’s forward motion. He looked over his shoulder wearing a thunderous expression.
With a wipe of her nose, she pointed a bloodstained finger at the most confining implement in the room. “I want that one.” She cleared her throat. “Sir.”
His gaze snapped in the direction of her intent then narrowed on her. “The inverse chair?”
They stared at one another, a breath away. He could throw a fist, sweep a leg, or yank the leash and smash her head into the floor. She waited.
A muscle twitched in his cheek. His eyes darted between hers. Then the debate on his face settled. “Lead the way.”
Thirty minutes later, he circled her, jacket and tie discarded. His shirt draped
When he climaxed, she felt limp, hollow. She knew, in that moment, the absence of fear was not synonymous with courage. She wasn’t brave. She was numb. Was that how Jay felt when his scars were inflicted? Or had he always been courageous?
He stripped the chain from the Craig’s hands and hauled her to her feet. “Don’t misunderstand why I killed him, Charlee.” He stepped close, and his rasp scraped against her lips. “I was furious. The fucker bet his daughter in a card game. He didn’t deserve to live.” His expression was as warped as his words, twisted way beyond normal. He seemed to catch himself and reached up to pet her hair. “Don’t force me to get that angry with you. I would not live without you again.”
Her head swam. He murdered because of the degeneracy of a father? The notion that he had some kind of paternal moral fiber stirred up all sorts of unsettling reflections, but one thought pushed away all the others. “Roy?”
His face slacked, his hand in her hair stopped mid-stroke, and she realized her mistake.
“Say it again.”
Lack of fear was apparently equated to stupidity. To hell with it. She steeled her backbone, determined to challenge him, and looked him in the eyes. “Roy.”
His mouth collided with hers, his tongue swiping in long strokes. “I love my name on your lips.”
That would be the last time he heard it there. “My birth control shot will expire soon.”
His eyes moved slowly, down, down, to her belly and his palm followed.
God, no. No, he wouldn’t want that.
He yanked his hand away, and the skin around his mouth tightened. “I’ll call the doctor.” He glared at her midriff and walked backward, hand curling around the leash. “I won’t share you with…a fucking kid.”
He turned toward the door and dragged her down the corridor. “You didn’t eat the oatmeal squares. There was a time when you never turned those down.”
“People change.” She plodded slowly behind him, spinning from his change of topics and navigating the untrodden territory of casual conversation with Roy Oxford.
“A challenge.” He winked over his shoulder. “You’ll teach me what you like now. You’ll show me every new and fascinating fiber you possess.”
“I’d rather not.” Her pulse accelerated. Had she stepped too far?
He paused, waited for her to catch up. “I’ll take that under consideration. You see? I’m not the tyrant you think I am.” He yanked the chain and made her stumble. “But I do hold the reins.”
Fucking dickhead
. If he didn’t want to be a tyrant, he could show her a little tenderness once in a while. She hungered for a connection to someone and if her only hope of ever receiving affection came from Roy, maybe it would’ve been better than none at all.
As they entered the last door on the left and walked to the center of the stockroom, she came to a realization. No matter what happened in the next few hours, her scars wouldn’t be a fraction as gruesome as Jay’s. If he were in her position, what would he have done to survive it emotionally?
He would’ve taken control the only way he could. She planted her feet.
The chain went taut and halted Roy’s forward motion. He looked over his shoulder wearing a thunderous expression.
With a wipe of her nose, she pointed a bloodstained finger at the most confining implement in the room. “I want that one.” She cleared her throat. “Sir.”
His gaze snapped in the direction of her intent then narrowed on her. “The inverse chair?”
They stared at one another, a breath away. He could throw a fist, sweep a leg, or yank the leash and smash her head into the floor. She waited.
A muscle twitched in his cheek. His eyes darted between hers. Then the debate on his face settled. “Lead the way.”
Thirty minutes later, he circled her, jacket and tie discarded. His shirt draped
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