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For so long, she had feared the touch of another human. Sire had given her nothing but pain, even if it was just a casual backhand for an implied infraction. Trying to hold onto her humanity through an eternity of pain had seemed pointless when it was so much easier to just let that part of herself fade away into ether.
Now, with Connor’s arms curled around her naked body, his heat seeping through her chilled flesh, Jenna wondered what the hell would have happened if she’d let the ether claim that part of her.
Connor was strong, and warm and safe. He held her carefully, shifted her so her head tucked beneath his chin and her back didn’t press against his shirt. He rocked her, slowly, as the song she’d come to love from the first bars played in her head.
Connor’s talk of domination, of obeying made her nervous. How did he know about Sire’s explicit demand that she not talk? He couldn’t know of the threat Sire had dropped on top of the demand…the threat to remove her tongue and crush any hope of ever speaking again.
Sometimes Jenna thought she’d never be able to say another word, so long it had been since her vocal cords had been put to use. She often had visions of them crumbling to dust in her throat, gone forever, to leave her mute and miserable.
On top of it all, she knew Sire would be looking for her; there was one way and one way only that he disposed of his slave girls. There was a specific reason why she was still a virgin, and why she—among the others before her—had toed the line no matter what the demand.
When he tired of his current girl, he would bring a new one in. The experienced one would show the new girl the ropes, and then after a few days, Sire would take them both out to his special place in the woods behind the shed and make his newest acquisition watch while he raped and choked to death the one he no longer required.
Jenna had been lucky. She had suffered through the agony of trainingtworeplacements, knowing her death was imminent, only for the girls to disappoint Sire to such a degree he ended them instead of her.
By hiding away everything that made herher, she had stayed in Sire’s good graces far longer than she believed evenhehad expected. She’d bowed and scraped and taken the systematic beatings in order to survive.
When the third replacement came, Jenna knew her survival rate dropped drastically. She’d seen the end in Sire’s pale blue eyes as he gazed at her like a loving but disappointed father.
She’d all but felt him inside her, his hands around her throat as they squeezed the life from her. She’d almost heard him grunt and groan in climax as her last breath rattled free.
Safe in Connor’s arms, Jenna cowered away from the cold that struck her bones and scattered horror through her soul. A whimper caught in her throat; years of training expelled it without a single squeak.
“So much going on in this head of yours.”
She wanted to purr at the gentle stroke of his hand over her hair. Soft touch, human touch. It had been so long since she’d felt a connection to anyone. Something light and bright and shiny fluttered in her chest. It took her a long moment to realize it was hope.
“What do you say to letting me finish fixing you up? After that, we’ll get you bathed and feeling a lot cleaner before,” Connor checked his watch and whistled, “I make you some toast? By the time we do all that, it will be well into morning. You can sleep in my bed while I do my morning surgery.”
She looked pointedly at the door.
“Just you and me, Jenna. No one else unless you want them here.”
This guy was a mind reader. She nodded and nestled in closer to him. Music thrummed in one ear while his heartbeat pulsed beneath the other. Strong like him, with a rhythm so like the music she liked so much, his vitality soothed her.
Suddenly his warmth shifted away and Jenna blinked up at him in confusion. Obviously it wasn’t something she’d said but…she clutched at his arms when they slipped beneath her, behind her, and lifted her effortlessly.
She found herself back on the stupid table, face down, the familiar pillow under her head. When he tried to take the music from her, she slapped at him, desperate to keep it in her head.
“Listen to me, just trust me.” Connor said as he wrestled the little box from her hand. She had tears in her eyes as he walked away from her to a black box in the corner.
Out of nowhere, the notes of her salvation drifted. She relaxed and smiled as the music grew louder. The touch of Connor’s hand on her back didn’t make her flinch; she lost the weakest part of herself in that magical voice and kept only the sharpest piece of herself on alert.
“That’s better, right? Now we can both listen to it,” Connor murmured as he poked delicately at one of the freshest slices, one that curved from the base of her spine and danced around her hip. “I’d like to flog the bastard responsible for this.”
Jenna shuddered when cold liquid splashed over her lower back. It caressed her wounds, sent needle-pricks of pain stinging through her flesh before it seemed to cool. Then she felt nothing at all, which made a nice change.
After a while, she floated. Connor’s constant commentary and the ministrations of his hands merged into one. His voice sent little spasms of delight up her spine, so deep and smooth that every word sounded like something dark and tempting to eat.
As if agreeing with her, her stomach twisted uncomfortably and let loose with a savage growl.
Well used to it, Jenna kept her eyes closed and ignored her body’s demands for food. For as long as she could remember, her dietary needs were fulfilled with whatever scraps Sire threw into her shed at night.Ifhe deemed her deserving.
She yawned, stretched stiffly, as arms scooped her up and hitched her onto a broad hip. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, memories of a little girl surfaced. Held tight, her tiny arms and legs locked around a man with a shadowed face, her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder.
Unconsciously, Jenna mirrored the memory and her body wrapped around Connor’s tentatively. She snuffled against the soft skin of his throat and smiled.
