Page 30 of Brutal Savior

“You’ll get your dignity back when you learn to behave.”

Screw him. In revenge, I wipe my face on his shirt. Ha.

He squeezes my ass, and I yelp as it reignites the pain. “Nice try, but I don’t mind a little bodily fluid.”

Again, I give a little shiver at the gravel in his voice. There’s a distinct “Playtime’s over” feel to Jacob as he strides out of his boss’s office and into the elevator. As if whatever grace period I was going to get before he enforced the sex slave part of this relationship has expired. Maybe because of what I did to Eve, or maybe just because he’s had enough.

The elevator moves down, and I hope with everything I have that no one else will get on, but am I ever that lucky? Nope. Maybe it’s close to lunchtime, because it stops at what feels like every fucking floor, filling with people.

I’m a coward. Instead of glaring at the freaks surrounding me, I close my eyes and tuck my face against Jacob’s back. The drool I wiped there is nice and damp right against my face. Lovely.

No one comments on my predicament. The silence only highlights how messed-up this place is. No one cares that I’mhere, and no one is going to help. These people must be so used to captive women getting carted about like dolls that it doesn’t even warrant a question.

Finally, we’re free and out into the crispy air again. I breathe it in. I’ve always preferred the outdoors. I used to drag Marlowe camping with me sometimes though she never really liked it. Back then, things were good.

Dad—no,Marlowe’sdad, I remind myself—used to love it, and sometimes, just the two of us would go. He’d fish while I climbed trees or bugged him to make a fire so we could toast marshmallows. Even as adults, we’d still plan the odd hike. Until the crash.

I open my eyes, grounding myself in the present and driving away the memory. Even being trapped here with a psycho is better than remembering that day. Does Jacob like camping? Probably. He has that feel to him, though he’d probably bring a fancy tent and spend three hours setting it up perfectly. I prefer just to throw up something quickly and start drinking.

Maybe we can go camping on the golf course. Light a fire and play truth or dare.

Shit, my mind is spinning off like a pinball. I stare at Jacob’s feet as we cross the threshold into his building. Each step feels like it’s bringing me closer to doom, and my stomach tangles itself into knots as he opens the door.

The first thing I see as we enter is the toaster I hit Eve with. It stares at me, accusing, on its side next to the door. Jacob touches it with his foot and flips it up the right way. He sets me down, balancing me on my feet.

“Now. What shall I do with you?”

Chapter Twelve

Jacob

That little session inKendrick’s office took all my self-control and then some. I can’t get enough of the way Quinn looks at me. Like she wants to laser a hole right through my skull.

She probably does after what I did to her. Nowhere in my perfectly constructed training plan was there a section for exposing her like that, and especially not in Kendrick’s bloody office. But fuck me if it wasn’t fun.

Something about making that mouthy little girl shake with rage was an electric shock direct to my cock. I couldn’t decide between dragging her back here right away or making her stand there for hours getting angrier each second.

Now, her eyes are wary. She watches me as I head to the bedroom, extract the key to her cuffs from its spot in my top drawer, and unfasten her wrists and ankles. She rubs her wrists as I wait to see if she remembers what she’s supposed to do.

A few seconds later, I see the moment the realization hits. Her eyes land on the wooden chair, and she runs to it. I stifle a smile.This is supposed to be serious. She doesn’t need to know how much I’m enjoying myself.

She steels herself, and just as she starts to sit, I call out, “Skirt up. Bare arse to the wood.”

A new rule, but I love the way her cheeks turn pink. Humiliating her is almost as good as spanking her, and she more than deserves it. Today, she deserves everything she gets.

She glares at me, a bit of her fire returning. It never stays doused for long. But the fear of being locked to the chair again must still be fresh, as she does as she’s told, lifting the back of her skirt and very carefully lowering herself to the hard wood.

She winces as her arse touches the seat. It must be bloody sore. Her jaw must be aching by now, too. She’s a tough little thing, and she settles her weight on the seat without any tears.

That gag is making a beautiful mess of her face, and the way it stretches her lips is giving me all the ideas under the sun. Christ. My erection is about to tear through my jeans. I crouch beside her and watch, letting her sit until she starts to squirm.

I can’t wait any longer. It’s been over a year since I’ve had a woman, and all the yoga and meditation I’ve done to keep control are crumbling to dust. It’s starting to sink in that Quinn belongs to me. I told her I’d use her as I wanted, and she still picked me. I can put that mouth to work however I choose.

Something holds me back, though. There’s no satisfaction in just shoving myself down her throat. A better idea strikes me, and this time, I don’t hide my smile.

I crouch, looking her in the eyes. “When you behave badly, it reflects onto me. You made me look bad today, and I still need to punish you. Maybe I’ll leave that gag on until tomorrow. What do you think? Take it off just long enough for you to drink and eat, then lock you back in. Seems fair to me.”

She shakes her head, frantic, as I knew she would. “And you can spend a couple of hours strapped to your chair, to give youplenty of time to think. Maybe with a nice big plug stretching that tight little arse of yours. Sound good?”

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