Page 51 of Scorch

He hasn’t been lying.

He loves my body.

I blink, coming down from my high as he leans over and presses his lips to my cheek. “You’re mine, Lydia,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re mine. Stay right here. I’m going to clean you up.”

The man who spanked me, scratched me with his beard, and bit my nipples was a different side of Viktor I hadn’t yet seen. He’s been nothing but tender to me, even when I pushed him until he finally snapped.

I stifle a whine when he gets up off the bed and walks to the bathroom. He comes back later with a small hand towel. When he wipes me with it, I’m reminded of the hot towels they wrap around my legs when I get pedicures at Mom’s. It’s warm and damp and feels incredibly soothing, smelling faintly of lavender.

I reach for it to help him, and he shakes his head with one curt nod. “Let me.”

After what he just did to me, I’ve somehow lost the ability to push back. I’m putty in his hands.

“You’d better enjoy this while it lasts,” I say. My voice sounds like it’s distant, out of my body, coming from someone else and not me.

“What?”

“My compliance.”

He grins at me. “Oh, I seem to have figured out a way to deal with this.”

My eyes are heavy and my body boneless as he lays me back on the pillows. “Get some rest, Lydia.”

I close my eyes and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

“You should get out of bed and get ready.”

“Why?”

“It's getting harder and harder to lie next to you and not fuck you,” he says, his teeth gritted together.

I’ve never had this power over anyone before.

“You don't trust yourself with me? That's interesting, isn't it? We should observe this as part of human nature.” I lean over and push myself up on one elbow.

He grunts and makes some sort of sound that is half between a growl and acquiescence before he slaps my ass. I squeal.

“Get dressed.”

“Do you say please, Viktor? Or do you just order people around?”

He quirks one eye open. Last night’s stubble grew to a dark shadow on his chin. I remember that stubble quite well…

In the morning light, I see the silver scar that runs from his forehead down his cheek.

“Let’s try. Please, get ready, my love,” he says in a sappy, unrecognizable voice. “Before I pin your wrist to this headboard and fuck you. I don't know how much longer I can last, so I’m warning you. Stepping away from me would probably be in your best interest. I'm not sure if you remember anything about yesterday, but I only have so much self-control.” His eyes narrow. “Was that better, doll?”

I actually swallow a giggle. “Much.”

Am I letting him get to me? I walk to the bathroom, grab some clothes, and quickly change.

My hair is crazy from the day before, but I'm starving. I blame the adrenaline. So I pin my hair up in this crazy bun on top of my head like a ballerina, wash my face with some of the excellent skincare products Polina picked out, brush my teeth, and slap on some quick makeup.

She's chosen a little white peasant top that accentuates my curves in all right ways, slimming my waist and accentuating my breasts. Comfortable, stretchy jeans that are wide and go all the way to the floor. I'm still wearing these slippers because they're so comfy, but I guess I'll have to wear shoes, too.

Viktor’s changed into gray sweats and a white tee. Hot damn. What is it about a white tee and gray sweats that just do it for me? There's something just… manly and sexy and raw about it. Especially the way he fills those out.

“We have a couple of interesting developments. We’ll talk it out over breakfast.” Frowning, he reaches for my hand. “Did you cut yourself?”

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