Page 49 of Brutal Surrender

“You did good, baby girl,” he praises.

It’s the first compliment he’s given me, I think.

Why should I care about such a thing? I’m not his baby girl. Though maybe that’s an upgrade from pet?

“Water,” I whisper.

He eases me off him and turns on the cold water. Using his hand as a cup, he collects the water and holds it out to me. I drink. It tastes refreshing.

“I can get a glass,” he says. “Cup.”

This bathroom probably normally has glass cups, but for me, there are only plastic cups.

“I’m fine,” I say.

He turns off the cold water and sits back against the tub, pulling me with him. Reaching over, he turns on the jets.

I lay with my back against his chest. My pussy is sore, but I’m happy I got to come. For the first time, I feel at ease being with Vincent. He seems like a different person at the moment. He didn’t have to let me come. He didn’t have to get me sushi. He could have kept me alive enough to sell me at a decent price. And why would someone as wealthy as Vincent even need to worry about getting top dollar for someone like me?

It doesn’t make up for what he did to me, of course. In fact, I probably shouldn’t even be grateful for the better treatment. It might lead to some form of Stockholm syndrome.

But for the time being, I’m too tired to fight myself. I let him wrap his arms around me. It shouldn’t feel good, yet it does. He must have fucked my mind over good, made me so desperate and discombobulated that I could actually find comfort in the arms of my enemy.

His hand drifts down between my legs. I feel his middle finger glide along my clit. I sigh softly.

“How’s my pet’s pussy doing?” he inquires after several minutes.

“Okay,” I murmur. My body hums with the embers of desire.

“Is it up for more?”

My eyes open wide as my body tenses. More? Is the buyer here? Is he planning on inviting over his bodyguards? Although arousal is simmering within me, I don’t know that I’m up for much more action, especially a Vincent-style fucking.

“No? Then let’s try this,” he says.

He changes position so that I’m facing the wall of the tub. Prying my legs open, he holds me in front of one of the jets. The water hits my sex with a constant thumping. I writhe against Vincent as tension in my groin mounts.

Given how tired I felt, I’m surprised I react so quickly. This feels amazing. He moves me closer. I start to gasp and babble incoherently. Too much, too much!

I strain against him. My arms flail, seeking to grab onto something. But he holds me in place.

“Don’t fight it,” he instructs.

As soon as I give in, my body explodes with another orgasm. My back arches and my legs spasm like they want to come off my body. I can’t escape the pressure throttling my sex, forcing my climax to last and last and last.

Finally, Vincent pulls me away. The blood at my pussy continues to pound like crazy. I hold onto Vincent’s arm, feeling like I’ll slip under the water if I don’t. I’ve splashed a good amount of water onto my face and use my free hand to wipe it out of my eyes.

I lay atop his chest once more, this time with my head against his shoulder. He cradles me in his arms, and another shudder releases through my body.

“Holy shit,” I murmur.

“Did that feel good for Daddy’s baby girl?”

I close my eyes and draw in a long breath. “You’re not my daddy.”

Feeling fatigued, I don’t make out his response. He’ll probably punish me for not answering, but for now, I enjoy the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of the water, the security of his embrace.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, but at some point he carries me out of the tub. With me in his arms, he grabs a towel, lays it on the bed and places me atop it. He dries me off, then slides me under the covers.

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