Page 11 of Empress of Savages

I hug my arms together across my chest and shrink back into the pillows. I can’t believe I look like anything but a total wreck in this plain, shapeless cotton gown. I can’t see my hair, but I feel it, like a thick shrub that’s been tied tight around my head.

Feelings stir deep down inside me, making me hot for this man. I can‘t trust him. I know that I shouldn’t feel this way, but that does me no good. Do I know him? He knows me, judging by the way he looks at me.

I’m shocked breathless by the size and sheer power of him as he strides to the bedside. I’m jumping inside with excitement and fear. It terrifies me that he clearly knows me well, and that I haven’t any sense of recognition. Nothing at all, other than the senses in my body.

The bang of my heartbeat, the pumping buzz in my ears and the tightening in my chest and throat all seem to tell me that I know this man. I know him well. Or, at least my body does.

“You’re awake.” His voice is thick and low. Dark, like black coffee and chocolate. His beautifully cut suit rustles like a soft wind stroking wild grasses.

He wraps his arms around me. Pulls me close. The strength and warmth of his body fold me in and I could melt, dissolve into him. While he holds me I feel like everything is okay and nothing could be wrong.

He pulls back, holding my shoulders. Searching my face. At this point I can’t tell whether I’m more shaken by my feelings for him, or by the intense hold of his eyes, as strong as the grip of his huge hands.

Whatever it is, whoever he is, my body’s instinct is to hide away from him.

But there’s nowhere I can go.

I shove myself back, as far up against the headboard as I can get, as if that would give me any kind of an escape.

Breathless, I whisper, “You kissed me.”

“You remember? Did you even know what was happening back then?” What have I done? I should have kept quiet. I feel like I’ve given myself away. Put myself up for offer, but I shouldn’t even think of giving myself to this brute. But my breath heaves for him. My hips squirm for him. I can feel my pussy weep for him.

Is it just because he has such power over me? Am I so weak and helpless? Who the fuck am I?

His eyes narrow. “I thought you were totally unconscious.”

“I was unconscious, but… ”

“Have you been faking it?”

“No!”

I cannot let him see that I’m welling up.

He comes near. “Are you sure?”

It’s hard to keep control of my body. My hands are buried in the bed covers and I know that if I let either of them come out into view, he will see how much they’re shaking.

“I had some awareness.” Even I can hear the weakness in my voice. but it’s only because I’ve just come around. He’ll see that, surely. I’ve been unconscious for…

“How long have I been here?” I nearly ask him how long I’ve been kept a prisoner here, but just in time, I change tack. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

“No. I wouldn’t. I can’t You’re in charge here.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

“I’m weak and helpless here. You can easily overpower me.” I search his eyes for clues. “You could pretty well do anything you wanted.” I blink. “You could take me, whether I wanted you to or not.” I’m hot and breathing hard.

“Would you want me to do that?” His eyes are sly.

I tell him, “Maybe you have to find out.”

I don’t know why I said that. I mean I don’t know. It can’t be an issue now, surely. Even without any mirrors, I know that I can’t be looking my best.

I wonder if that’s why they’ve covered all the mirrors.

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