Page 45 of Anorthic Anarchy

She, the baby, that is. I’ve already got an idea of a name and who she would be. Only because I plan to be the best mother around. Unlike other mothers in Gnarled Pine Hollow, I won’tdie. Not unless those people take me and hurt me at another time, like the consort said.

“Yes. Hopefully.” Vincente seems sosadall the time. Even as he flickers his view to the headboard and slides out, it’s with some longing like he doesn’t want to leave me. Oddly, maybe I feel the same.

Because despite how horrendous of a person he is, I think he’d kill to protect me. Iknowhe would. Fuck, hehas! He’s like my own chaotic murderer. I could set him loose on anyone I choose.

And when the door bursts open with Chloe standing there, I think about setting him loose on her first.

“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Dilan asked me to check on you and bring your breakfast tray. The lady’s is in her room already.”

He shakes his head slightly, a disgruntled groan erupting from his chest. Like he’stiredand not just sad. It makes me angry for him.

“You can bring my breakfast in here. I’ll eat with my husband. Thank you, Chloe.”

As if I just asked for a nuclear bomb, Chloe’s subservient manner changes completely to savage wildebeest. Her eyes glare at me as her jaw drops. My belly tightens, hoping the master doesn’t hurt me because of it, but when I scan his face, he seems amused. His tight body still hovers over me, naked and gleaming with the sweat of our lovemaking.

I’m really not sure why I said that. Only a fool would love him.

“Do as Mrs. Strauss stated, Chloe. But come back in twenty minutes with hot food.”

Kneeling, he offers his hand to me as Chloe almost slams the heavy wood door. I slide my palm into his and he guides me to the bathroom and into his oversized shower.

With a toss of my long blonde locks over my shoulder, I square up to him and cross my arms. “I can bathe alone, you know. I’m quite capable.”

Still with that pleased grin plastered on his face, he turns on the water, reaching around to grab a towel to place on the sink behind me. Then, with a tiny shove of his hand on my lower back, pushes me into the shower and gets in behind me. “I’m sure you are. Almost a grownup now. Speaking out of turn. Not addressing me as sir.” One of his fingers extends and taps the end of my nose, which infuriates me further. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he presses his lips to my ear and says, “I like it.” But some piece of me wonders if I’m still about to be punished.

“I can shower in the other room.”

As I try to slip past him, his grin widens. Strong arms extend to the surrounding walls, then collapse on my frame. It’s not a trap.

More like an embrace.

A frightening, maddening hug.

But it makes me relax into him as if I’m desperate for human affection and desire.

Because I am.

My arms hold him back as he grabs something behind me and walks us into the stream of warm raindrops shooting from the showerhead.

After squeezing out a bottle, he runs his fingers through my hair and massages my scalp. The sensation is almost as good as the orgasms he just gave me. And I melt into him. My captor.

My savior.

The vicious bullheaded creature that just stuck up for me to one of his slaves.

“What do you think it would have been like if I’d met you in high school?”

His question stuns my already numbed brain, and I flicker my eyes open to see his serious expression. Water droplets bounce off his lashes when he blinks slowly to consider my answer. The creases in his forehead deepen, as do the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes. It’s surprising that he doesn’tlooktwenty years older than me…until I’m this close. But the vulnerability of his anticipation makes him seem so very young.

Younger than me, even.

“Um, I didn’t go to high school. I wouldn’t know. I was homeschooled and finished at sixteen.”

Nodding slightly, he considers something. “I was, too. I guess we both missed out on things.”

It feels very much like he’s talking about something else. Maybe he had this question in his mind so many times, but never asked it aloud.

“The shampoo you use makes my hair stringy.”

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