“Take all this off so I can look at you.” I know she’s roughed up. And that there’s more to her injuries than just the physical component. I’m gonna start with the bruises, then work my way to everything else.
She stares back at me for a minute with a blank look, like the one she gave me earlier and for a second I think I’m gonna have to remind her that she needs to listen to me. She swallows and gets up, heading for the open bathroom door to my en suite. I follow a few steps behind her. I’ll set her up with the steam room as soon as I get a good look at her. It’ll help her muscles. I should know. I’ve gotten the shit kicked out of me a few times, and the steam always helps relieve the soreness.
I hear her gasp when she turns on the light, and that makes me smile. My place is pretty fucking sweet. I didn’t hold back on the upgrades. Her bare feet make a soft padding noise as she walks across the travertine floor to the floating marble vanity. The sink itself is carved out of the marble, and I can tell she’s impressed. She turns to take in the rest of the room. The river rock shower takes up the back half of the room, with glass doors that separate it from the rest of the bathroom. There’s a comfortable bench inside where she can lounge while the steam goes to work on her body. In the center of the room is a rustic bowl soaking tub also made of stone. She walks slowly to it and runs her hand along the dark grey edge.
“You wanna soak a bit, doll?” She startles when my low voice seems to echo off the walls of the large bathroom. She looks at me with wide eyes, and then stares at the tiled floor. “I thought you might wanna lie down in the steam room, but a soak in the tub would be nice, too.” I still have some of that sea salt for healing. Not the shit that stings, but the good stuff. I take a step toward her, and she takes a step back.
“What’s gotten into you, doll?” She’s wearing that same guarded expression from dinner. I don’t fucking like it.
“How…” She struggles to ask whatever’s on her mind. Whatever her question is, it can’t be good. There’s a reason we don’t like the women asking questions. We don’t want them involved in this shit, it makes them targets. There’s usually an understanding about this. Women stay out of it.
But that’s not how shit worked out for her. She can’t just go along with things and leave the business to the men.
“Ask it, doll; whatever you want to know. I’ll tell you right now.” That’s partially a lie. I know it, but I don’t want to tell her there’s shit I’m not going to answer. I’ll let her ask whatever’s on her mind. Hopefully it’s nothing too specific. Something I can talk around.
“How many people have you killed?” she asks in a voice so low, it takes me a moment to actually understand her question.
Red fucking flags shoot up in my head. Cops ask questions like that. I run a hand through my hair and watch as her knuckles turn white gripping the edge of the tub. I need to get her ass in the tub first. It’s not like she’s a cop. She’s not. Tony would’ve figured that out if she was. And she’s not wearing a wire. Even if she was, I’ve got the blocker set up in every room of the house. No way a rat is getting shit out of me in my own home.
I take a step toward the tub, and she reacts with fear. Taking a sharp inhale, and another step away from me. She’s scared to ask me questions, and I don’t like that. I don’t know how Pops does it. I don’t know why Ma doesn’t ask, and never has. But it sure as shit isn’t because of fear.
I push the stopper down and lean over and turn the faucet on, letting the water warm before dipping my fingers into it. I turn the heat up a bit and walk to the shelves for the salt. It’s pink. Maybe she’ll like that. I scoop out a bit and drop it right below the running water and dip my fingers back in. That should be good for her. Maybe it’ll help her relax some.
“Get in, babe. Relax a bit, and then we’ll talk.” I sit my ass on the edge of the tub and grip her hips, pulling her in between my legs. Her lips part, and her small hands brace herself on my chest. I pull her closer and gently kiss under her ear, on that tender spot below her neck and it works like a charm. She relaxes slightly, leaning into me. A soft sigh leaves her as I leave another open-mouth kiss on the crook of her neck.
I love that sound, the little moan of satisfaction. I want to push for more; I want to run my hands from her thighs up to her ass, and squeeze. My dick hardens thinking about fucking her against the tub. The tub is solid and I could pound into her and force her to take the intensity of each thrust. But there’s no doubt it’d leave bruises. And she’s so hurt already.
I pull away from her, remembering her current state and place a soft kiss against her lips. I take her hand in mine and gently unravel the bandages. She did a shit job of putting them on. I should’ve done it earlier. My thumb brushes lightly over the raw skin on her wrists. She struggled against them. The abrasions from the rope piss me off. A deep hurt settles in my chest, and it takes everything in me to keep my face from showing my anger.
They hurt her to get to me. They tried to kill her. And they wanted me to see.
As adrenaline pumps through my blood and my heartbeat picks up, her small hands land on my shoulders and rub soothing circles. A satisfied groan rumbles through me. My hands find the small of her back, and I rest my forehead against her chest. She’s so warm and comforting. It takes a moment to notice that her arms have wrapped around me, and her head is resting on top of mine.
I tilt my head up and catch her bottom lip between my teeth. I pull back slightly at her whimper before letting her go. Her half-hooded eyes stare back with a spark of lust.
My doll fucking loves it rough. Her thighs clench in between my legs. I want to fuck into that hot, tight cunt so fucking much. My dick roars back to life as her eyes stare into mine, waiting for me to take her. “You want me to fuck you, doll?” Her fingers touch her lips and her eyes stare at mine as she slowly nods her head once.
I want it too, but not right now. I need to get her to tell me what’s going on in her head. I need answers. And so does she.
“Be a good girl and strip.” I watch her body as she pulls the shirt above her head and lets it fall onto the floor. Her breasts are full and lush, and I lean forward and take a nipple into my mouth. Teasing me, teasing her. She gasps as I bite down and pull back. She has one hand on my head, and one on her other breast. Her fingers pinch and pull her hardened nipple while her other hand tries to push me closer to her. Naughty girl.
I let her nipple go and love how her mouth forms a perfect “O” and her eyes close in pleasure. “Bad girl. You don’t direct this show, doll.” I set a bad example the last time we fucked by letting her lead like that. But damn, it turned me on. My dick jumps, remembering how fucking good it was. My breathing is picking up, and my fingers are itching to play with her body. My eyes trail down her skin, and then I see the bruises.
“You need a salt soak.” I have to keep my mind focused. Her ass isn’t topping from the bottom anymore. She just wants to fuck me. Other than that, she’s scared of me. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But for some reason, I don’t like it.
“Are you a fucking sadist?” She takes a step back and gives me a bewildered look. Well, she’s obviously not that scared. I guess when her sweet cunt’s begging for my attention she’s not so afraid.