Page 33 of Brutal Savior

“You mean the SAS?”

He smiles. “Yes. I didn’t have you pegged as an expert on the British army.”

“My foster dad served, so I grew up hearing a lot about the military.”

He nods thoughtfully, then climbs into the tub. The water level rises, and he settles into it with a sigh, arms resting on the sides like he’s a king on a throne. “In you get.”

“I’m not sure there’s room.” He fills the bath, and all at once, I’m nervous. This feels more intimate than I’m ready for. Ridiculous, considering his cock was down my throat only minutes earlier, but I don’t make the rules of my messed-up brain. Sucking my captor’s cock—not too bad. Cuddling with him in the bath—way too weird.

“Get in, Quinn.”

I’m starting to recognize his “I’m not playing” voice. I cannot handle yet another punishment. Not yet. I lower myself into the water and can’t hold back a moan as it wraps around mysore body. I haven’t lived in a place with a bath in forever. I’d forgotten how good it feels.

I crouch awkwardly at the opposite end of the tub until Jacob grabs me, flips me around, and pulls me on top of him, my back to his front. I wriggle against his grip, but it’s pointless. Giving up, I settle on top of him. It’s not so bad when he’s not looking at me. I close my eyes and try to stay in the moment, enjoying the scalding water.

He wraps his arms around me, and yes, it’s definitely weird. Why is he being nice? Might as well ask.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You took your punishment well.”

“But—”

“Listen to me.” He’s all serious now. “I don’t want you to be miserable. If I wanted that, I’d have let Kendrick give you to Edward. If you want something, tell me. As long as you behave, you’ll be well looked after.”

His hands start to roam over my body.

“What are you doing?”

“Exploring. Relax. You must have lots of questions, so ask them.”

An open invitation too good to resist. “What type of scientist are you?”

Why did I waste a question on that? I should have asked something practical. But I still can’t picture Jacob in a lab coat, messing about with…well, whatever scientists do. It’s throwing me off.

“Good question. I’m a biochemist, and my specialty is radical life extension.”

“Living forever?”

“Not forever, but much longer than we do now. Two-hundred years should be possible.”

Jesus. Since my diagnosis, I’m used to thinking in single digits, a few good years and then gone. Two hundred years? Why would anyone want to live that long?

His hands slide up to my tits, squeezing them and rolling my nipples between his fingers. I can’t stop staring at his big hands on my skin.

“You’ve got the most beautiful tits, love. I could play with them all day.”

I scoff at his words, though he said them with sincerity. “Bullshit. I’m flat-chested as all fuck. Hardly any cleavage even in a push-up bra.”

I used to get teased at school. I’ve wanted a boob job for years but have never been able to afford it. I’m not down on my looks as a rule. I like my toned stomach and legs, but my tits have always been a sore point.

Jacob pinches a nipple hard, and I yelp. “Oy. None of that. They’re perfect. Are they sensitive?”

He releases my nipple, and I sigh in relief as the pain fades to a sting. He brushes over it, and fire tracks a path to my clit, lighting it up. My body comes to life, nipples hardening even in the warm water. Jacob makes a low, appreciative noise that sets my skin tingling. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of confirming that. I ask another question. “What do you expect me to do here? In the Compound, I mean. Just sit around all day waiting for you to come home?”

He pauses, one hand still occupied at my breasts, the other slipping lower. “No. You can do whatever you want. You don’t have to worry about money ever again. Food, clothes, education, the best medical care. It’s all yours. And whatever you’d like to pursue, let me know. I’ll make it happen.”

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