Page 21 of Cruel Master

My breath catches as our eyes meet. The expression in his eyes is different from any I've seen in them before, but before I can analyze it, he tears his gaze away from mine.

“Get up and shower,” he orders me. “It'll make you feel better.”

My cheeks burn at the way he orders me around like I'm a child, but I press my lips together, my head pounding too much to argue with him.

He grabs my hand and opens my palm before placing two pills in it. My eyes flick down to them before looking back up at him suspiciously.

He doesn't offer an explanation. Instead, he lifts my hand to my mouth, prompting me to take them before shoving the water bottle in my face.

I do so obediently, knowing at this point that if he wanted to kill or drug me, he could have easily done so by now.

“Go,” he tells me, nodding toward the bathroom door before taking up his perch in the chair again.

I stare at him for a moment, unmoving.

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Do you need assistance? Because I'm more than happy to oblige.”

That gets me moving. I head to the closet to grab some clothes before I go into the bathroom, but he stops me with a command.

“No. Shower, and when you come out, I'll have something for you to wear.”

I literally bite my tongue to keep from snapping back at him, knowing that it's pointless.

Instead, I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth while I wait for the shower to heat up.

Knowing that he's just outside the door has my entire body prickling in awareness. I keep glancing over at the door to make sure he doesn't come in, but he never does.

I take an obscenely long shower, just sitting under the spray, but still, he doesn't come in. He patiently waits for me to finish up, and when I finally do, I turn off the water and squeeze out my hair before wrapping myself in a towel.

I slip cautiously out of the door but relax when I see he's nowhere in sight. I take in the black lacy panties and black dress he has laid out for me. He's even laid out the heels he wants me to wear.

I stare at his selection for a moment before stalking over to the closet and grabbing the first thing my hand hits. It's another dress, but I don't really give a fuck what it is. I'm not going to wear one thing that he's picked out for me.

I put on a different pair of panties and a different dress. I pick out a different pair of shoes.

I head back into the bathroom and make quick work of blowing out my hair. I don't even bother with makeup, though there are all kinds of expensive tubes and creams in the vanity.

Fuck him if he thinks I'm going to try to look attractive for him. I don't know how much later it is when he comes in, but I don't look up from where I'm sitting when I hear the door click open.

You would think the bastard would give me a TV or some books to read or something. Anything to pass the time, but no. I'm supposed to just sit here like a pet in a cage waiting for him to come collect me.

I sense rather than see his pause when he sees that I'm not wearing what he picked out.

He doesn't say a word. Instead, he strides over to me, and then I feel myself being lifted to a stand with his hands under my arms.

I chance a defiant look up at him, and what I see in his eyes is mirth.

He's amused by my disobedience.

He stands back, his eyes trailing over me from head to foot before he nods. “Better than what I picked out.”

My cheeks flame, and I suddenly wish I had just worn what he wanted me to. Once again, I feel like I've unwittingly played into his hand and done exactly what he expected me and wanted me to do, and that pisses me off more than ever.

He leads me out of the room, but once again, he doesn't take me to the dining room. He doesn't take me to the balcony from last night either. Instead, we move toward the front doors.

My heart starts beating a mile a minute as I glance over at him curiously.

“Where are we going?” I can’t help asking him.

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