I couldn't let him pay the price for my stupidity. I'd tried, oh God, I had tried so hard to foil her plot, to just let the thugs fuck me and be done with it. But I had broken under their cruelty and my lover had felt forced to intervene, stopping the nightmarish attack by giving in to Clarice's ruthless demands. The sadistic bitch had won because of me, because of my weakness. A man I'd known for less than a day had saved me at great personal cost.
The thought of Miles calmed me, and my panting breaths finally started to slow as the panic slipped away. It had been a stunning shock to recognize Miles Sinclaire after a sexy, scary night in his bed. A reclusive billionaire, famous for his genius and business sense, he'd become a virtual hermit since the bitter divorce that had cost him his software company. I'd been purchased to be a pawn in his psychotic ex-wife's vendetta, be the live bait on her hook.
I'd met Miles right after the virgin auction, when I'd been deposited on his doorstep, bound and terrified. A cold-eyed stranger, he hadn't been reassuring in the least to the scared girl he'd been so suspiciously given. His moods had swung unpredictably from teasingly playful to ruthlessly commanding, and he had demanded total obedience from me, not hesitating to punish me for defiance. He'd spanked me, shaved my pussy with a straight razor, tormented me with a vibrator in public and taught me erotic pleasures I'd never even imagined, all within a single intensely arousing day. To my utter surprise, I'd found pleasure in submitting both to his desires and to his twisted punishments.
I swallowed hard, my throat aching, as I recalled the fight we'd had after his gloating ex-wife finally released us. Miles had been so angry, enraged by the sacrifices he'd made to save me. He'd lashed out at me, his hard words like blows to my wounded soul. Drowning in guilt and pain, I had met his temper with my own. I had viciously attacked my rescuer, blaming him for not fucking me properly that first night, for not taking my virginity then and freeing me from the damned contract.
In the simmering silence that followed, he had pulled out the auction house document and signed it over to me, declaring our business transaction complete. I was finally free.
Then Miles told me to leave. Floundering from this abrupt rejection, I'd begged to at least stay the night. His aloof agreement had landed me in this cold, quiet guest-room. Alone. And still technically a virgin, despite everything that had happened.
I twisted on the bed, the clammy sheets sliding over my bare legs as I lay back down. The thin cotton t-shirt seemed like feeble protection against the cold filling me. The infuriating, demanding, fascinating man I had so recently come to know wanted me to leave and a hollow dread filled me at the thought of never seeing him again. I needed to make things right with him, to somehow repay him for saving me. To my confused shame, I also ached to feel his strong body against mine once more, to meet his wicked lusts with my own sinful passion. I groaned, throwing an arm over my eyes, blocking out the empty shadows and fighting down my conflicting emotions.
An hour slowly ticked by as I lay there sleepless, too scared to close my eyes and risk the nightmare. Giving up, I finally threw back the sheets and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I had to find him. Hesitantly, I crossed the room and opened the door. The blackness of the hallway beckoned. I vaguely recalled being led down a few hallways, towards the back of the spacious mansion. Padding along on bare feet, I cautiously moved through the silent house.
I wandered along, lost and a bit frightened, until I finally stumbled upon a familiar door. It was the bedroom where I'd been so roughly deposited the night before. Its carved wood loomed over me, a forbidding barrier. Even if Miles was inside, he'd made it quite clear that he didn't want to see me again. A quiet voice in my mind whispered that I should just go back to my room. Before I could talk myself out of it, I forced my hand onto the doorknob.
With a faint creak, the heavy door swung open onto the lush room now seared into my memory. The dim light revealed the heavy four-poster bed where I'd slept in his arms, just the night before. Torn between hope and fear, I froze in the doorway, unable to force myself into the room as my nerves totally failed. The memory of his rejection curdled inside me, and I turned away, defeated. His voice from the darkness halted me in my tracks.
"Are you coming in or not?" His bored tones gave no hint to a preference, and I cringed. My cowardly escape attempt thwarted, I swung back to the open door and crossed my arms under my breasts. As the silence lengthened, I wet my lips and forced myself to speak.
"I-I couldn't sleep." I winced at the lame excuse. An aggravated sigh was Miles' only response. "Um... can I come in?" The words tripped out, rushing past my trembling lips.