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“Aren’t you going to tell me to leave?” he asks as I pull the shirt I have had on for the past four days over my head.
I ignore him and strip off my skirt, and then my panties. Finally, I slip off my worn bra.
For the first time in days, I feel my skin come into contact with fresh air. Without warning, he strides over to me and grabs my shoulders.
“I am really trying to be patient with you, but this business of ignoring me is starting to piss me off,” he says between his teeth.
His body is so close to mine that my nipples are only a breath away from being pressed to his chest.
I shove his hands away. “I have nothing to say to you,” I reply.
“Answer when I speak to you,” he says.
Fair enough, I suppose. “You spoke to me. I noticed. Happy?” I shoot back, not looking at him. I look down at the water and slip my hands into it to gauge the temperature. It’s just perfect.
I step into the tub and let myself relax in the water. It’s the most refreshing feeling.
“There are towels on the rack. Let me know when you’re done,” he says, turning to leave.
“I need help washing my hair,” I say quietly.
He turns to me slowly, visibly taken aback. “What?” he asks.
“Could you please help me wash my hair?” I ask again. “My hands have been tied up for days. They feel like they belong to a corpse.”
He clears his throat as if this fact bothers him and walks up to the racks lined with plastic bottles in the shower.
He picks up a shampoo bottle and walks over to me. Without a word, he squeezes some of the contents of the bottle into his hands and begins to massage it into my hair.
As he washes my hair, I run the soap over other parts of my body, washing away the dust and grime. Each curl of his fingers makes my body tingle with pleasure, despite my desire to remain strong. The gentle way he’s caring for me right now makes a confusing counterpoint to all of the rough treatment he has offered me, but my body seems to be excited by the juxtaposition.
Several more passes with the soap leave me squeaky clean. He vanishes and comes back to the bathroom with a fresh pair of silk pajamas and places some ointment for my bruises before he disappears.
I get out of the bath, ignoring the pajamas and looking at myself in the mirror. I look battered, and skinny, but my eyes are still alive with the desire to live, to escape. I ponder how to do that. There are guards everywhere on this property and Antonio seems to have eyes in the back of his head.
I look down at my body, slowly reaching up to cup the soft fullness of my breasts. A thought occurs to me, and a zing of excitement chases from my pussy through my body. I’ve seen the way he still looks at me. Even when he’s angry he wants me. Maybe I can use that to my advantage. Maybe I can even use it to trick him into trusting me.
By now, the sun has set, and the evening is giving way to the night. I might be able to get started on my plan right now.
“Did you find…” His voice trails off as he walks back into the bathroom. He stares at me standing before the mirror, cupping my breasts.
I turn toward him, running my fingers over my nipples a little, making them rise to attention. I grab my lower lip in my teeth, trying to suppress the urge to moan. I don’t quite know what I’m doing, but I have watched enough porn to have some idea of how these kinds of crazy scenarios are supposed to work.
“You’ll be returning to the basement tonight. You look so much better already,” he says, staring mesmerized at me.
I slowly break out into a smile. “But I don’t want to.” I sashay toward him, ignoring the aches and pains that the movement causes my battered body.
He scoffs. “You seem to think that you have a choice.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t have a choice. That’s what I like the most about this situation,” I say, realizing that it’s not entirely a lie.
For the first time, I see Antonio Russo disoriented, and I know that my plan is foolproof.
“You were the first man to have me and to take me as your own,” I whisper as seductively as I know how.
His dark eyes register something like surprise. Maybe he hadn’t been entirely sure that I was a virgin when we fucked in his office. His lips curve in a slightly tense smile. “What if I told you that virgins don’t interest me?”
I shrug. “I seemed to be interesting enough just the other day in your office.” I grip my breasts harder, pushing them together in front of me.
