Page 53 of His Captive

But, something shivering in my blood, and crackling over my skin, tells me that it’s already too late.

Thirteen

LYSETTA

Three days. Three whole days spent without him touching, or even speaking to me. He is avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy.

Since our night out he has pretty much stayed in either his office or his bedroom, both conveniently places I’m banned from going. I figure he must be eating his meals there too, because I’ve been eating alone in the dining room and conservatory.

He doesn’t come to my room. He doesn’t send any orders with Buddy. He does nothing.

I wonder what I’ve done wrong. Had I pushed him too hard? The night had been perfect until I’d let my curiosity ruin it.

I’ve just finished another delicious - totally over the top for a Tuesday evening meal. I’ve dressed up, just in case he decides to grace me with his presence, but like the past two evenings, I’m left disappointed. Mrs. Pritchard takes my plate away and offers me a sad smile as she leaves the conservatory.

Maybe she knows what comes next, what happens to guests when the master of the house is done with them.

I’m contemplating heading to my room for another night of restlessness. Of touching myself, but not quite finding the pleasure I’ve become accustomed to since him.

My body craves him like he’s a drug, a really bad one that I’ve been forced to take and have now become reliant on. My skin itches like his touch is my only fix, and I feel empty, irritable and hungry for him.

I pass his office door on my way to the stairs, and wonder if he’s inside. What he’ll be doing if he is?

Planning on how to get rid of me?

Finding himself a new fuck toy to play with?

Just the thought fills my mangled head with so much jealousy that my fist pounds against his door, way before my brain has a chance to engage what I’m doing.

I waited to hear his voice, but it doesn’t come. And then just as I’m about to retreat back to my room, the door opens.

He stands in front of me, clearly agitated by the disturbance. Not speaking, just staring and waiting expectantly.

“I’ve been wondering if you’re okay, you’ve been quiet lately,” I say dropping my eyes to the floor. As bad ideas go this is right up there.

“I’m always quiet,” he says in a low, emotionless tone.

“True,” I shrug. “Okay then…it feels like you’ve been avoiding me,” I tell him braving honesty, raising my gaze to look him in the eyes.

His expression is vacant, just like his voice, and when he steps back into his office, I wait for the door to slam in rejection. Instead, he leaves it open. I’m not entirely sure if it’s an invitation for me to enter, but I move inside anyway.

Facing away from me, he pours himself a drink, and I strike quickly to avoid the distraction of seeing his face. “Ethan, I get that you’re done with me now, whatever you have planned to… to…” I try to steady the shake in my voice. I won’t let him get off on my fear, not yet.

“To rid of me, I want it done quickly. I can’t handle thinking about it for a moment longer. It’s like slow torture. Just waiting to…”

“What makes you think I’m done with you?” he spins around, cutting my rambling short.

“Well you’ve been avoiding me, so I figure you are bored of me.”

“Bored of you?” he seems surprised and amused at the same time.

“Yeah, I thought you might have found someone else, someone prettier and more...” I try to think of a word that describes the opposite of me. Interesting, fun, special.

“Why don’t you like yourself, Lysetta?” he asks, pinning me with his eyes so I can’t avoid his question.

“What makes you think I don’t like myself?” I respond to his question with another question despite knowing how much he hates it.

“Everything makes me think that. The way you walk, the way you hold yourself. What you just said…What makes you so sure that I’m done with you?”

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