Page 19 of Cruel Master

I’m playing right into his hand. If I give in, I’ll damn myself, but when I deny him, he actually likes it. Whatever his sick game is, it’s tearing me apart.

Some nights it takes all my willpower not to slip my hand between my legs, but I know even if I did it under the protection of the covers, he would know. And I can't bear that taunting, smug look in his eyes, the burning humiliation of him knowing that it's because of him.

I don't know how long we go on like this. I lose count of the days. I spend all day in my room alone with breakfast and lunch trays passed to me through the door. I still don’t know if he’s the one delivering them or if it’s some elusive member of the staff I have yet to catch a glimpse of. I assume it’s not him because surely he does something during the day. He dresses like a businessman and exudes an air of power, so I have to believe he’s the head of some sort of company.

Anyway, I pass my days idly by, and then he comes and collects me for dinner. Every time he takes me back to my room, a fresh vase of blue roses is waiting for me.

It’s the same old song and dance every day, and it's driving me absolutely insane. My body is like a spring ready to pop at any moment.

And then one night he changes up our routine. Instead of taking me to the dining room where we always eat, he leads me out onto a balcony with an intimate table set for two.

It's complete with two glasses of wine poured. I'm technically not old enough to legally drink, but nothing about this man is legal. It's clear that the laws that govern the rest of humanity don't concern him.

So, when he lifts his glass wordlessly, I follow suit. He clinks his glass with mine. I stare at the blood-red liquid suspiciously, wondering if it’s been poisoned.

As if he can read the thoughts on my face, he smirks and quirks an eyebrow at me. Fuck it, if it has, it’ll take me out of this living hell.

I take a sip, the sweetness of the berries mingling with the tartness of the alcohol. It's not the best thing I've ever tasted, but it's not horrible either. I instantly feel the warmth as it glides down my throat, and I take another sip.

I keep sipping throughout dinner in between bites of food. I feel my limbs getting heavier, a mellow, relaxed feeling taking over my body. My defenses are down, and I can't help noticing how handsome Gabriel is. Of course, I always notice it, but I usually push it out of my mind in irritation.

This time I don't do that. I just stare at him, intoxicated by both the wine and his masculine beauty. Of course, his beauty is deceptive. He's only physically beautiful. Inside, his soul is a twisted, ugly thing. I just know it. I giggle at the thought.

I'm tipsy as hell—if not outright drunk. That's why when he takes me back to my room and hovers his lips over mine, I lean forward and press mine firmly against his.

ChapterThirteen

I can't believeI'm doing this, but I'm beyond caring. All I can think about is the insistent throbbing in between my legs and the way his lips feel underneath mine.

I’m too far gone to even feel shame at the way I throw myself at him, making the first move.

My cheeks finally do begin to burn when I realize that he’s not kissing me back. He’s completely stoic, and then I feel his hands on my shoulders, firmly pushing me away from him.

I sting with the embarrassment of rejection, and then I let my humiliation morph into anger.

Gabriel’s icy blue eyes are burning down at me, and he shakes his head as if he's greatly disappointed in me.

“Just what the fuck is your problem?” I ask him, my words slightly slurred. “Isn’t this what you want?”

He just stares down at me, infuriatingly silent, and then I lose it.

I flail at him, pummeling my fists against his chest over and over again as I scream. He takes the hits before he finally grabs my wrists and wrenches me up against him, pinning me to his chest. “Enough!” he barks.

I look up at him and finally voice the words he’s been challenging me to say. “I want you. There, you happy? So just do it already.”

He stares down at me before he moves his mouth infuriatingly close to mine again and speaks softly, “Nu-uh. When you finally submit to me, sweet Nora, you're going to be completely sober. There's no way I'm going to let you be able to blame it on the alcohol the next morning. Sleep now, and in the morning, you can repeat those words to me.”

I'm seething when he releases me, my body vibrating with all the fucked-up emotions this man instills in me.

I watch his retreating form. My body is still on fire and unsated. “You bastard!” I scream after him.

He doesn't even flinch. He closes the door and ignores me.

I stalk over to the bed, stopping and grinning mischievously as an idea forms in my head.

Fuck Gabriel. Two can play his game.

I look up as I slowly slip my dress off my shoulders and down my body. I let it fall sensuously off me. I don't know where the cameras are, but I keep my movements slow and deliberate, knowing he’s watching me as I toe out of my heels and then the dress until I’m standing in nothing but lacy panties.

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