Page 53 of The Devil's Weakness

He guides me beneath the water and washes the suds from my hair. When they’re all gone, I hear more noise coming from behind me. This time, however, I don’t turn around. The clicking noise of bottles opening and closing is enough to tell me what he’s doing. Then his hands are on me once again. As he rubs the soap over my skin, my mind and body are at war with one another.

Level-headed Sasha is screaming at irresponsible, throw-your-worries-to-the-wind Sasha—who is fostering the place deep within that’s blooming with heat and begging to be taken again—to wake up and see that this isn’t right. That someone can’t just lay a claim on another human being without their consent.

Irresponsible Sasha answers back that sheisawake,finally, for the first time in our carefully planned, methodically executed life, and she has no intention of giving me the reins back anytime soon.

I can’t stop the moan in my throat as Blade continues to both wash and massage my body. He’s handling me with care, very different from when he fucked me earlier. His hands draw a path along my skin, leaving a trail of bubbles in their wake, over my shoulders, and down my arms. He links his fingers in mine, taking the eroticism of this situation and turning it into a moment of nurture. He squeezes my hands, almost as a reassurance, letting me know that he’s got me. That I’m safe in his arms.

From there, he spreads both of his hands over the length of my stomach, pulling me backward until my back crashes into his front.

Until his erection is poised between my ass cheeks.

Here we go.

Expecting him to go straight between my legs, I’m surprised when his hands rise along my torso, caressing my breasts. No nipple tugs, no fondling for longer than is necessary—just a simple, straight-to-the-point cleansing.

My breath hitches when he reaches between my legs. I know he’s heard it because his dick twitches between my cheeks. Again, he runs his hands along my slit in a way that feels erotic yet, almost businesslike. As though he wants to fuck me, but he doesn’t want to make me feel like a cheap whore.

You mean like he did earlier?

Once he’s done a thorough job of washing my top half, I feel him twist my body, turning me toward him.

Okay, this must be the part where he kisses me again. Touches me? Picks me up and fucks me against the shower wall?

Only none of that happens. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed.

He’s gotten into my psyche and fucked it all up. I don’t want the soft caresses and romantic way he’s taking care of me. I don’t want to feel any of the emotions that he’s evoking in me by being sweet. All I can think about is how savagely he took me in the basement. That’s what I want.

No. It’s what Ineed.

Squatting in front of me, he places my hand on his shoulder so I can balance myself as he picks up my leg. Lathering it up with soap, he scrubs away the dirt from the past few days. He does the same with my other leg, and when he’s all finished, he stands again and places his finger under my chin.

“Go ahead and dry off. I’ll be out in just a second.”

My only response is a blink before his lips connect with mine again. I step from the shower and pull a large, soft towel around me. For a brief moment, I contemplate running again, catching Blade off-guard while he’s not paying attention.

But there’s no way I’d make it past all the men downstairs. Although, now that Stone no longer wants to kill me, maybe they’d let me go? Something tells me they won’t, though. Ibelongto Blade now.

Oh, brother.

Struck with exhaustion, I close the lid on the toilet and sit down to dry my skin. I’m so tired I can’t think straight.

This is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s wild. It’s scary. It’s like one big crazy dream. I feel like a different person when I’m under Blade’s influence. I think I can deal with both parts of me coming to some kind of agreement, at least for one night. I’ll let irresponsible Sasha rule tonight, but first thing tomorrow morning, level-headed Sasha is back on top, and we’re finding a way out of this mess.

Blade is still showering by the time I’m finished drying off, and I use the extra time to inspect the small bathroom. It’s cleaner than I would have expected it to be. Spotless, in fact. I think back to my quick trip from the basement to the infirmary, then from the infirmary to this bathroom. The basement was filthy but well organized. The house—compound?—whatever they call it, appeared neat and tidy.

Who would have thought a house full of barbarians could be kept so clean?

Maybe that older lady is being held here, too. Perhaps they make her cook and clean for them, like Snow White.

Blade shuts off the water, interrupting my thoughts. He catches me by surprise when he throws open the shower curtain suddenly. I jump and nearly fall off of the toilet. His eyes catch mine, and they can’t hide the question within them.

He wants to know why I didn’t run.

Was this a test? What really would have happened if I tried to run? Always able to read me like a book, Blade answers my unspoken question.

“I was wondering if you were going to try and take off again,” he states.

“Thought crossed my mind,” I admit.

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