Page 27 of Brutal Surrender

He stares deep into my eyes. “Worried for your friend?”

I look away and pretend to inspect the food on the tray. Whatever it is smells good. But I haven’t ruled out the idea of starving myself to death.

Feigning indifference, I say, “Your staff is easy to bribe. All it took was an offer to give really good head.”

He cups my jaw. My immediate instinct is to squirm from him, but his grasp is too strong.

“You do give good head.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Such a fuckable mouth.”

My chest heaves. I remember the horrible way he raped my mouth with that spider gag. And yet…

As if he can sense my body warming, his pupils grow molten. The air between us crackles.

Abruptly, he releases me and lifts the plate cover to reveal French toast garnished with slices of fresh plantains and pecans, eggs, sausage, and breakfast potatoes.

“Eat,” he directs.

Part of me is tempted, but I bristle at his command.

“Eat or I’ll personally stick a feeding tube in you.”

For whatever reason, he’s being relatively nice to me. I shouldn’t upset him.

No. I’m just some pig he’s trying to fatten up, and we all know what lies in store for pigs.

But that doesn’t make sense. What does he care if I’m scrawny or thick? He’ll whore me out either way.

His eyes narrow at me. “Misty, stand outside.”

“Yes, Boss,” she replies and closes the door behind her.

Oh no. I’m alone with Vincent. And I upset him.

Chapter 14

Vincent

Ican see fear in her eyes. Now that we’re in a well-lit room, I can more fully appreciate the beauty of her hazel eyes fringed by full lashes. The swelling in her black eye has gone down considerably, and there’s only a purplish bruising left.

“Are you feeling nauseous?” I ask her.

She looks at me as if it’s a trick question.

Wrapping my hand around the nape of her neck, I pull her to me. I catch a whiff of her scent, and my body responds instantly. Suppressing the sensation, I press, “Are you?”

“No,” she replies.

I want to pull her closer. I want to touch her. Even in a hospital gown she looks hot. Maybe it’s because I know what she looks like underneath that gown. But she’s not fully recovered. Stifling my desire to ravish her, I release her and say, “Then eat.”

She doesn’t move.

I set the cover down. “I think the pills you took killed off some brain cells. I can just shove the food down your throat if you want. Would you get off on that?”

She looks down at the tray. “There are no utensils.”

“You think I’d let them give you a fork so you can stab me in the eye with it?”

“So I’m supposed to eat with my hands?”

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