Lucas’s jaw muscle flexes, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he carries me into the shower stall, sets me down on the tiled floor, and pulls out a key. Grabbing my handcuffs, he unlocks them and detaches them from the ankle cuffs, which he unlocks next. Then he yanks me to my feet.
“You need a fucking shower,” he says harshly. “Take those clothes off. Now.”#p#分页标题#e#
My knees buckle, my leg muscles unable to bear the sudden strain of standing, even as my aching back weeps in gratitude at finally being straight again. My head spins from chronic hunger and exhaustion, and it’s only Lucas’s grip on my arm that prevents me from sinking back down to the floor.
A shower? He wants me to take a shower? Before I can process that odd demand, he lets out an impatient noise and grabs the zipper of my jumpsuit, pulling it down roughly.
“Wait, I can—” I try to reach for the zipper with one trembling hand, but it’s too late. Lucas spins me around, flattening my face against the shower wall, and yanks the jumpsuit down to my knees, leaving me wearing nothing more than a pair of loose, high-waisted panties and a stretched-out sports bra—the only underwear allowed at the prison. Within a second, he rips those off me as well and spins me around to face him.
“Don’t make me tell you twice.” His fingers catch my jaw in a hard grip as he holds my upper arm with his other hand. “You’ll do what I say, understand?” His eyes glint with icy rage and something more.
Lust.
He still wants me.
My heart pounds in a furious rhythm as the fact that I’m naked in front of him again sinks in. I should’ve expected this, but for some reason, I didn’t. In my mind, what happened between us before was entirely separate from the punishment he’s about to dole out, but I should’ve known better.
For men like Lucas Kent, violence and sex go hand in hand.
“Do you understand?” he repeats, his fingers digging painfully into my jaw, and I blink affirmatively, the only movement I’m capable of. Apparently, that’s enough, because he releases me and steps back.
“Wash yourself,” he orders, stepping out of the stall and closing the glass door behind him. “You have five minutes.”
And crossing his arms in front of his massive chest, he leans back against the wall and stares at me, waiting.
17
Lucas
She reaches for the faucet, her entire body shaking, and I see the effort each movement is costing her. She’s weak and thin, infinitely more fragile than the last time I saw her, and the fact that this disturbs me enrages me even more.
I expected to feel lust and hatred, to revel in her suffering even as I slaked my hunger on her deceitful flesh. I planned to treat her like my fucktoy until my obsession with her faded, and then do whatever it took to find the puppet masters pulling her strings.
I didn’t count on this pale, bedraggled creature and how seeing her this way would make me feel.
Did they starve her? Apparently so, because I can see each of her ribs. Her stomach is concave, her hipbones are jutting out, and her limbs are painfully skinny. She must’ve lost at least fifteen pounds in the last two months, and she’d already been slender.
She manages to turn on the water, and I force myself to remain still as she reaches for the shampoo. She’s not looking at me, all her attention focused on her task, and I feel a fresh wave of rage, mixed with lust and that disconcerting something.
Something that feels suspiciously like protectiveness.
Fuck. I clench my teeth, determined to resist the bizarre urge to step into the shower and gather her against me. Not to fuck her, though my body is eager to do that as well, but to hold her.
To hold and comfort her.
Infuriated, I shift against the wall, watching as she begins to lather her hair. Despite her extreme thinness, her body is graceful and feminine. Her breasts are smaller than before, but they’re still surprisingly full, her nipples drawn into taut pink buds as she stands under the water spray. I can see soft-looking blond fuzz between her legs; after nearly two months of no razor or wax, her pussy must be back to its natural state. My cock, semi-aroused from stripping her naked, hardens fully, and I imagine myself stepping into that shower, unzipping my jeans, and driving into her tight heat with no preliminaries. Just taking her, like the fucktoy I intended her to be.#p#分页标题#e#
And there’s nothing stopping me from doing that. She’s my prisoner. I can do anything I want to her. I’ve never forced a woman, but I’ve never wanted and hated one at the same time either. How would fucking her be any worse than slicing up her delicate flesh to make her talk?