Page 21 of Luka

Even at that thought, I don’t move. If he forces my dress off, fine, but after earlier, after what he coerced out of me… I won’t dare remove my clothes for him.

“Come.” He crooks his finger at me, but I don’t move.

“Lucia!”

I jump at his harsh tone, my toes and fingers spreading. Once my heart restarts, I scurry his way, panting and shaking while I stand in front of him.

He pushes my hair back, exposing my shoulder to air that feels colder than before. But the cold isn’t why I shudder.

Tall runs his fingers down the side of my neck, then back up in what could be a caress or a threat. I’m too afraid to look at his face to read which it is.

He does it for me, though, lifting my chin with a single finger so he can look into my eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips.

“You’re very beautiful,” he says, gently, like a lover or a serpent. He moves his eyes to my trembling shoulders. “Even when you’re shaking…Especiallywhen you’re shaking.” His eyes meet mine again. “But I’m afraid if you don’t get in that shower right the fuck now, the water will run so cold, you’re shaking will start to annoy the piss out of me.”

I hunch steadily as the false charm leaves his voice to be replaced by his cruel humor. But it isn’t really humor. It’s a warning.Take off your clothes, get in the shower, orelse.

“I won’t undress for you,” I say, fighting the urge to step back. I keep close track of his hands in my periphery in case they strike. “If you want my clothes off, you’ll have to remove them yourself.”

His smile widens just before he laughs. “Really?”

Instead of answering, I just turn my head away.

“What about when I want you to open your mouth for me?” he asks, planting his thumb to my closed lips. He presses until I grant him access and allow his thumb to tap against my teeth. “Will I have to do that myself too?”

He only waits a second before moving his thumb and fingers to the outside of my cheeks, where my molars are. He digs in his fingers until my eyes widen and I open my mouth against the pain he brings me, only to be met with more pain when he continues his assault, my mouth wide open now.

“Because if I have to, that’ll beverypainful,” he says, matter-of-factly, like he isn’t bruising my cheeks as he talks.

When he lets go, I cover my hand over my mouth, like that would stop him from digging his fingers into me again if he wanted to. He doesn’t, though. His attention moves to my dress, his hands yanking the material up and roughly pulling it over my head. My arms lift to try and accommodate him.

The material of my bra scrapes my bouncing breasts as he jerks it up over my head next. Once it’s on the floor and my arms are free, I cover my chest, my face blushing. Somehow, I’m more nervous about my exposed breasts than the other parts of me he’s already perused.

He strips from his boxers and doesn’t allow me but a moment to collect myself before he takes my arm and hauls me into the shower with him. The glass door bangs shut with a quick jerk.

My eyes close as warm water cascades over my face and head, and I stand stiff and hunched in the stream. I keep my breasts covered even as the wet hair clinging to my face begins to make my skin itch. Because I canfeelhim. Standing behind me, watching me.

First, it’s just his presence that I feel, but then his warmth is at my back, his chest brushing up against my shoulders, hishand curling around my waist, his length, hard and hot, pressing against my spine.

He uses the hand not cupping my waist to gather my hair over my shoulders and smooth back the strands from my face.

Something pops, like the cap to a bottle. I look behind me as he squeezes liquid into his hand. Without a word, he turns my head forward, back under the spray, and starts rubbing shampoo into my hair.

My arms tightly wrapped around my chest loosen ever so slightly as Tall starts massaging the shampoo into my scalp. His erection shifts when my spine begins to straighten, making me stiffen all over again.

“It’s just a dick,” Tall says, sounding unfazed. His voice doesn’t show his obvious arousal. “It isn’t going to bite you.”

Once he’s finished with the shampoo, he turns me to face him so he can rinse my hair. I don’t open my eyes as his fingers move through the strands, subtly tugging at my scalp, leaving little tingles of pleasure in their wake. My neck feels so vulnerable with it bent like this. It would be nothing for him to end me right now if he wanted to.

He abandons my hair in favor of barred soap that he lathers his hands with. I hold my breath as he runs his palms over my neck first, then my shoulders, halfway down my arms, back to the bar to lather his hands again.

He repeats on my stomach and back, never making me uncross my arms, but I doubt he’s steering clear of my breasts out of kindness. More like he’s saving the best for last.

And I’m right.

The rest of my torso finished, he looks me in the eyes and waits, not uttering a word. It wouldn’t be necessary.

His head tilts when I don’t comply with his silent wish. Staring into my eyes, he positions his sudsy fingers into the samespot behind my molars he found before. My hands are lowered before he ever needs to squeeze.

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