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For all that day, I didn’t push that I was supposed to see her back, or not much. The woman was stubborn and scared of me touching her. Even so, I also knew Gregor would make sure to follow through if he had the glimmer of a doubt that she’d disobeyed him. And his punishments had a habit of getting worse.
I was close to grinding my teeth down in frustration by nightfall. Sleeping on the floor again while she lay a few feet away, unattainable, and tossing and turning as if in pain, only made me get up in the morning, grumpy, and determined to examine her back.
My one problem – this meant more to me than simply looking at the whip marks. It was why I was so conscious of keeping myself in check.
When she had a shower that night, I sat on the bed and stared in the direction of the door. To look or not to look? I was being stupid. Not pushing the issue because I had other motives was all very noble but it was still dumb.
Merely sitting opposite her, talking, had been enough to steam up my brain. With her flimsy dress on, she was tantalizing. Having fucked her twice, I could imagine a lot.
I steeled myself and I turned my head.
Hot woman alert.
She stood under the shower, facing away from me, with water streaming over her naked back. Jazmine left me in danger of swallowing my tongue. My dick shot up so fast and so hard I could’ve used it to shoot down planes. Her wet hair was plastered to her skin all the way down to her waist. The lower edge was like an arrow, slipping about in the water, and pointing straight at the tempting split of her ass.
With great effort, I ignored the memory of my hands on those gorgeous mounds. Her back. Check that.
Blue-black bruises but also one deep red area. Shit. Who knew if the whips and other implements here ever got cleaned? I needed a closer look. No ulterior motive, just common sense. If I asked her, she’d want to hide herself and I didn’t fancy that soapy wrestle, not really. I’d do something I’d regret with her under my hands.
This could turn out so bad.
What man wouldn’t get an erection looking at her nude? It was normal.
I stood quietly and stalked over, zeroing in on the dark red streak. If it was a bacterial problem, she’d be sore, wouldn’t she? I wasn’t certain but redness after this much time might mean infection.
Excuses, excuses.
Then I reached within an arm’s length away from her and knew I would have to touch. With water cascading over the area, I still couldn’t tell.
She was humming to herself, oblivious.
Shooting fucking terrorists was easier.
If I spoke, she’d jerk away, turn, cover herself, argue. I’m an ex-fucking cop. But...this was for her own good.
I nearly gave myself a brain hernia turning this over.
“Jazmine. Turn off the water so I can look.”
Her gasp and screech were low volume. She froze. “Go away, Pieter.”
I reached past her and turned the metal dial. The water slowed and stopped. The last clear stream trickled and died. I was so close I could see the fine hairs on her arm. The little silver angel, on the bracelet she never seemed to remove, swung in an arc from her wrist.
“Your hair’s stuck across where I need to see. This won’t take long.”
“Fuck. Off.” The trembling started and damn if that didn’t make my hard-on harder.
“No. Ten seconds. Tops.”
Getting there. Doing this. I counted downward from one hundred to stay focused. Naked woman, yes. Not mine. No.
I smoothed my fingers under her hair, shifting it aside, and just as I cleared the spot where the line of red swelled up, pursing her skin into an angry ridge, she tried to bolt.
I slammed my palm onto her, flattening her to the wall.
“Stay, girl. Fucking stay there!” My voice had roared into boss mode.
“Sorry.”
