I tried not to look at him, but I could feel the weight of his stare. Worse still, I saw his hand moving toward my face—slow, deliberate. His thumb brushed against my chin, tilting my head up, forcing me to meet his gaze. To face the rest of my punishment.
He had caught me mid-phone call. A stupid, desperate idea. As if calling the police would somehow undo what had been done to me, would turn me back into the man I used to be and get me the hell out of here. But I didn’t even know where here was. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I hadn’t seen a mirror, but I didn’t need to. Looking down told me enough about what this freak had done to me.
I tried to look away. The last thing I wanted was to stare into the eyes of the man who had stolen so much from me. God only knew how much more he planned to take.
His grip was firm, deceptively gentle, guiding my chin upward until my eyes locked onto his. He was smiling warmly, a cruel contrast to the anger I was trying to push into my glare.
He spoke first.
“You’re not even going to beg for your arms back? How precious. Guess that means you know what a naughty girl you’ve been.” My stomach churned. “At least now I don’t have to worry about locking doors,” he continued, stroking his thumb along my jaw in mock affection. “I don’t think you can handle a doorknob anymore. But don’t you worry that pretty little head, honey.”
His hand slid from my chin to my hair, ruffling it like I was some obedient pet. Then, with a smirk that sent ice curling down my spine—
“I’ve always preferred blowjobs anyway.”
