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There’s anger and confusion in her voice. Apparently, she’s not happy about being here. She might still want to end this thing between us.
The hell she will.
The kind person she’s known for years would’ve explained this to her. Apologized. Expressed remorse for drugging her.
Until she falls for me, I don’t think I can be him.
I harden my expression. Turn to her. “Leighton.”
Her eyes bulge, exposing too much of the white in it. Much like her pale face. My sweet girl. The nausea of the drugs must’ve kicked in.
She screams something that sounds like, “Let me go,” her body rocking in her seat. As if that’d help.
“No.” I shake my head. “You’ll never be free of me.”
For a second, she freezes. Such a beautiful doll, she is. Her hair pulled up in a bun, her lips round because I made them so using the gag.
Then her scream pierces my ears inside the closed car. She thrashes against the seat belt. When her eyes wander to her wrists, she rubs her palms together furiously, attempting to break free.
I let her have her tantrum for three…two…one…
“Stop it.” With one hand, I grab her shoulder. Use the other to grip her chin.
Doesn’t help.
So I start hypnotizing the way I’ve been craving for years.
“You’re going to take a deep breath, Leighton.”
Her body strains, desperate to push me off her. Her blue eyes plead with me. She presses her lips to the gag, working to expel it by spitting and screaming.
“Deep. Breath.” I lower my face to hers. “Or this wouldn’t end well for you.”
“Why?” she manages to ask behind the gag, breathing quickly.
More spit drips down her chin.
I’ll lick it later.
“You’re not paying attention. Deep. Breath.” I level my voice. An example would make it easier for her to understand, so I inhale slowly, expanding my chest. “Do it. You’ll feel better.”
Leighton sucks in a shuddering breath. Then another. Some of the panic leaves her gaze. We’re getting somewhere.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
My praise flicks on a switch in Leighton. Her muscles aren’t as strained beneath my fingers.
She’s incredibly receptive. More receptive than any of my patients.
Doesn’t mean I won’t use a trance trigger on her. For those times she’ll refuse to follow my orders.
“Feel that air going in. Feel how it’s soothing you.” Despite tightening my grip on her, she relaxes. “Notice how good it is. How nice it feels to be held by me.”
Her head lulls to the side, dropping on the headrest.
“Now, feel your eyes.”
Though my voice may sound tender, I’m anything but. I talk like that because this is what’ll push her into a trance since I don’t have a trigger word for her yet. It’s the only tool in my arsenal to manipulate her.
