Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
He’d woken earlier and fucked her in the spooning position. She hadn’t told him no, hadn’t said a word when he’d roused her from sleep, rocked slowly into her from behind, and refused to come until she did. And she did come, with the same snarl of emotions as the first time.
But that was a couple of hours ago. Now he seemed content to do nothing but hold her. It felt almost…safe. Almost.
The dull pain pulsing deep beneath the welts on her thighs and butt helped her remember what he was capable of.
“Don’t you have henchmen to recruit and women to sell?” She lifted her gaze to his.
“You’re supposed to be a slave, not a slave driver.” His voice was stern, but the glimmer in his eyes betrayed his amusement.
She guessed her own expression wobbled somewhere between go to hell and oh well. Truth was, she preferred this…this mellow, amicable Matias. He reminded her of the boy she used to laze around and laugh with. If she kept him in a jovial mood, maybe he’d open up enough to talk to her. Civil conversation would be major progress after yesterday.
As her bladder twitched with pressure, an odd thought struck. “I haven’t seen you use the bathroom since I’ve been here.”
“I went while you were sleeping. Even brushed my teeth.” He touched his lips to her forehead. “Are you concerned about my bathroom habits?”
“No, it’s just…” With her arm resting along his ribs, she traced a finger across the bottom edge of his pectoral, which felt a whole lot like steel. “I guess…I don’t know. It’d be nice to see you do something human.”
“Look closer then.” He lifted her chin with a knuckle and gave her a good look at the hazel swirls of life in his eyes. “I feel pain and hope and fear, just like you.” He moved his hand from her face to hold up his wrist with the pockmarked scar. “To this day, I’m afraid of big black dogs. I take melatonin because I have trouble sleeping. I get indigestion when I eat too many empanadas.”
Her heart thudded and twisted.
“And I dreamt about this, Camila.” He touched her cheek oh-so delicately with the pads of his fingers. “I dreamt about waking up with you for as long as I can remember.”
That was… Wow. He was sharing, and she liked it. Liked it so much it made her uneasy and fluttery, her lips teetering on the verge of a weird smile.
With a ragged inhale, she lowered her gaze to the dense stubble on his jaw. “Remember when we sneaked into the faculty room at school and photocopied our faces?”
“That’s not the only thing we photocopied.”
“That was all you.” She jabbed a finger at his chest, fighting a grin. “You yanked your pants down and sat your butt cheeks on the glass top. My poor innocent eyes.”
“You looked?” He leaned back, eyebrows arched.
“Well, um…yeah.” It’d been her sixth grade year, so they’d been twelve and fourteen. She’d seen him nude as a child, but that day had been the first time she’d ogled him in all his postpubescent glory. “I don’t really remember.”
“You’re lying.” He bit her neck playfully. “You definitely remember.”
A full-blown smile stretched her cheeks as she recalled her shock. He’d looked like a man to her then. All that pubic hair—black like the hair on his head. And balls that hung low beneath a cock she’d fantasized about every night for the next three years. To think, he’d waited until she was fifteen before he let her touch him beneath his boxers.
She shrugged. “Too bad we didn’t save the evidence. When the Xerox machine spit out that grainy picture of your ass…Oh God, do you remember? I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.”
“Yeah, you peed your pants.” His shoulders shook with laughter.
“Down my legs and all over my flip-flops. I had to wear your gym shorts home.” She groaned. “I was so embarrassed you saw that.”
“Why?” His brow furrowed. “Did I say something—?”
“No, you were cool about it. You were always…” So tender and protective and perfect in every way. “You had my back.”
She sighed, holding on to the memory and her smile.
“This is what I missed more than anything else.” He trailed a finger across the curve of her lips. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Camila, but when you smile, you light up the whole fucking world.”
Her lips fell beneath his finger, her chest tightening with the weight of the huge, indescribable thing between them. She couldn’t pretend this bond didn’t exist. It’d been there her entire life. Even through twelve years of separation, she never stopped sensing it, thinking about it, and now, it sang with his words and vibrated with his touch.
But it was also murky and distorted with ugly truths. He’d purchased her, beaten her against a post, and refused to talk about his job. He was a slave trader, yet he’d helped her dispose of the bodies of slave buyers. Because he cared about her? He was an infuriating contradiction. As much as she wanted to luxuriate in their reconnection, doing so would be a death sentence for the women he preyed on next.