Page 32 of Stolen
My heart shriveled into my stomach as I feared I might have just given myself away. I quickly tried to save myself, exposing all the fear I had bottled up. I allowed him to see all of it, proving to him that I wouldn’t fight him anymore. “I’m sorry,” I whispered in absolute pure terror, my palms coming up in surrender.
“That’s what I thought. We need to get you cleaned up,” he said, looking down at me. “You’re filthy again, and I don’t want to risk an infection.”
The bath was for me? He was going to clean me up? I wasn’t sure that I believed him. Maybe I hadn’t heard him correctly.
As soon as he carried me past the door, sure enough, he gently eased my body into the warm water. With the drugs slowly fading from my system, the water felt like syrup against my skin. The sensation of thick, heavy coating covering my body had me panicking on the inside as the water stopped just below my collarbone.
“Relax,” his stern voice commanded as he settled me into the tub.
It felt impossible at first, but as the heat of the water warmed my frigid bones, I found it becoming more difficult just to keep my eyes open. Letting them flutter for a moment, I lowered my lids until I lost all manner of focus, losing myself to the darkness that begged me to stay forever.
8
Benched
* * *
Victory had never tasted so bittersweet.
I’d won. Again. But far too soon.
I wanted the game to last. I wanted another damn round.
What the fuck was wrong with me? This little spitfire had gotten under my skin in less than two weeks, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t expel her. She’d witnessed far more of me than any other whore who’d passed through these walls, seen the monster that most didn’t live to tell about, and still, she fought.
I knew she would give in eventually. They always did. But whenshe finally succumbed, my dead heart elevated to the fucking sky. The endorphins swimming through my system left behind the sweetest aftertaste of victory I had ever savored—a rush so strong it almost brought me to my knees when I heard her finally say the words.
Breaking the weak ones was like breaking a twig, too easy and unfulfilling. There was no work involved and little effort needed. Jaden, on the other hand, was like a steel skyscraper primed for demolition...and I was the wrecking ball that couldn't wait to tear her down piece by piece. Day by day, she’d erect a new wall, and I’d break it down, brick by loving brick.
But her destruction alone wasn’t enough. I couldn’t help but play in the wreckage. I had kissed her. Overwhelmed by the urge, I no longer denied myself and took what I wanted right when I wanted it. Fuck the reasons, I’d dissect that later. I had been dying to know what those lips tasted like for long enough.
They were soft and perfect; her mouth sweet like honey and surprisingly responsive to my touch.
As I watched her now, resting beneath the warm soapy water, eyes closed, chest slowly rising with each breath—her vulnerability brought me an odd sense of calm I didn’t understand.
Despite her rough treatment here, her skin was so incredibly smooth and firm as I scrubbed her clean, indulging in everything her body could not fight me on. I didn't normally bathe the slaves after I wrecked them, but I wanted to explore more of the temple of Jaden Wilder while I had the chance.
She fought me on nothing, allowing her limbs to remain limp and pliant, giving me access to everything I wanted. It made me wonder if she might have actually been enjoying herself. Of course, it was far better than the pain I had just delivered not so long ago.
I could feel my right eye swelling from where I let Jaden's tiny angry fist connect with my skin. I had held back so hard in that fight, not wanting it to end but not wanting to kill her, and she knew it. She hated it—knowing she was giving it her all while I had barely tapped into my reservoir. Every hit I took, except for that surprise scorpion kick, head-butt, and random zombie attack, I took on purpose. I still couldn't believe she fucking bit me, but I guess desperation will make a person do crazy things. Good thing my shirt collar was in the way. Still stung like a bitch, though.
Taking on Jaden’s damage gave me a better idea of what kind of fighter she was. I wanted to know how hard she could hit, how well she could think on her feet and counter-attack, and I wanted to analyze her fighting strategy. She was a very capable and intelligent fighter…but I was better. To be fair, though, I was always better. I was not one to lose in any form of combat. Not after what I’ve been through. Substituting your childhood for war will do that to a person.
But it really wasn’t just because I was simply bigger and stronger than Jaden, though. If she had gotten on any other man’s back with a choke like that, she’d easily take them down, regardless of how small she was. But I wasn’t any other man. Not even close. And she would come to realize that soon enough.
Yeah, I might have a nice little shiner come morning, but it was worth it to know she could actually punch with the correct knuckles. She’d certainly demonstrated that with Jared. Scott had informed me of the ongoing situation as he headed down with the intent to handle it, but I told him I would see to it personally…and with all the pleasure in the world. Jaden’s aggression and rage had completely consumed her by the time I showed up, and if I hadn’t, she might have actually killed Jared, and then it would have been all over for her. It already was, but those measures would have been a little bit more permanent than the ones I had already delivered on.
Leaning over the side of the tub, I took Jaden’s arm and began lightly scrubbing her skin with a soapy cloth. Her eyes remained closed and her limbs loose, but her jaw was as tense as ever. Seizing the opportunity, I took my time exploring her skin, cataloging every scratch, bump, and bruise she’d earned since she first got here. She was a roadmap of self-sabotage.
The scarred knuckles, discolored cheeks, angry abrasions ringing her wrists, the multitude of scrapes, and the fading bruise the size of my footprint across her chest. All these injuries a clear warning of Jaden’s refusal to succumb to the boundaries of her own body. Despite her valor, she was still very breakable, as she witnessed herself tonight. But it would not be a surprise if she somehow found a way to magically piece herself back together. In fact, I’d be disappointed if she didn’t.
Even after today’s events, I surmised Jaden couldn’t be gone entirely. I suspected it would take more than just a single session for one as strong and stubborn as her. But it was a step in the right direction at the very least. Repetition and routine were the key with every slave, and the thought of creating a routine for Jaden brought a smile to my face. Something to look forward to.
Ignoring my hardening cock, I finished my task, taking note at how her delicate hands and feet had managed to leave behind such damage without breaking a single bone. Maybe she was already beyond that stage.
Releasing the drain, I stood to grab a towel from the cabinet, waited for the water to drain, and lifted Jaden from the tub wrapped in the towel. Even soaking wet, she still weighed nothing.
Carrying her to the bed, I laid her down and began gently pressing the towel to the loose drops of water along her skin. But just as I started collecting the ones on her face, her eyes fluttered open and stopped me dead in my tracks.