Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Noemi
Iwake up in a darkened bedroom with a gasp. Looking around, my heart pounds. Where am I? Have I been dreaming?
But no. I can't move, not even to wiggle a toe, so it follows that I haven't been hallucinating. I'm still under the drugged spell of Gloss.
And that horrifying auction? It was all too real.
I look around, trying desperately to seek any clues. The Gloss, plus my overwhelming panic, were too much for me back at the auction. The man who bought me, a giant with white blond hair and ghostly green eyes, told me his name.
Rian.
And then my memory grows foggy.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that the bedroom I'm in is well-appointed, expensive dark sheets, stylish wood furniture, and huge windows with drapes drawn over them. Light is pouring in from a faint crack beneath the blinds.
So it's the morning, then. Have I slept? Or is my concept of time corrupted by the drugs that my captors repeatedly injected me with?
The door opens softly and my new captor, Rian, makes an appearance. His hair looks as though his hands have plowed through it again and again, standing up on end. There are dark circles under his eyes.
This man is definitely worried about something. As a semi-professional worrier, I recognize the signs.
He has blond eyebrows, chilling green eyes, a hawkish nose, and stunningly full lips. If I'd merely seen him on the street, I'd be attracted to this Viking god of a man.
He reminds me of my follower. But that would be crazy. No one with luck like I have has a man who’s basically her stalker show up and save her when she’s been kidnapped.
So what is this man doing? Buying girls at an auction?
His eyes travel up my body, lighting up when they see me staring back at him. "You're awake."
I blink at him. If he expects some witty comeback, he's not going to get it. I can't. And even if I could, I probably wouldn't.
He's terrifying.
Rian ambles to my bedside and sits down, his hip and thigh brushing against my body. If I were able to, I would hiss. But I can't, so I look away.
"Noemi." He reaches up to my face and brushes a wisp of dark hair back, tucking it behind my ear. "I need to ask you some questions."
My eyes dart back to his face. For such a large, imposing figure, he's being quite soft with me just now.
"You can control your blinking. Right? Blink twice for yes, once for no."
I blink twice. He picks up my hand, clasping it, and ghosts his fingers down the side of my face. His expression is adoring, his touch something I certainly didn't ask for. But because I can't flinch away, I squeeze my eyes closed. A moment passes. I hear him inhale sharply and then drop my hand.
"Sorry. I'm touching you like you know me, but you don't. I'm a stranger to you."
I open my eyes, feeling tears pressing at the corners. He notices with a small hiss.
"Fuck. Don't cry, Noemi. I can't stand it."
He seems genuinely affected. I'm starting to think that there is something unhinged about this man who bought me from one of the most fucked up auctions imaginable.
"Okay, pretty girl. You can blink. The men that kidnapped you and drugged you gave me an antidote of sorts." He hesitates, my hand coming up to my face again. But he stops himself before he can stroke my cheek. "Sorry. It's hard not to touch."
I blink several times, trying to steer him back to the antidote. I've been trapped in my own body for too long and I'll do anything to be free again. Even if I have to let Rian touch me.
He doesn't deserve to touch me, though...
He's a fucked-up man in a world full of dark, shadowy figures doing awful things to one another.
I was raised as a Caruso, told from a young age that when the time was right, I'd be given to a stranger for a husband to secure political ties.
My aunt and uncle are planning… no, were planning… to find me a mob husband.
The point is that I've seen my share of fucked up things.
"Right." Rian sucks in a breath. "So I have an antidote. It's adrenaline, which will let you regain mobility almost immediately. There are—"
I blink rapidly. I don't care what I have to do. The fact that there's an antidote and he didn't give it to me immediately stirs anger in my blood. Fucker.
"There are side effects." His eyes bore into mine. "The main one being extreme euphoria. Have you done Ecstasy?"
I blink once. Of course I haven't. I've lived a very sheltered life, just my books and me.
"No. Well... it's apparently X times fifty. You might... have needs."
I can't imagine what he is talking about so I just stare back. If I could hit him right now, I would.
Get the freaking antidote already! I think.
"Or you can wait a few days for mobility to return on its own," he finishes. "You have options. Blink twice for the antidote—"
I blink twice. He goes silent. "One more time. Blink—"
I blink twice, impatience gnawing at my gut. I have to get out of here, but this is the first step.
"Okay." He pulls a wicked-looking injector out of a slim leather box, going exceedingly slow. Looking at me, he brushes his hand over my cheek again. "Sorry, pretty girl. I have to... just in case it doesn't work..."
Then he leans in, his minty breath fanning over my lips. "Close your eyes," he whispers.
Fluttering my lashes closed, my heart beats a rousing tattoo inside my chest. He surprises me then by kissing me, his warm lips pressing against mine.
Sweeping his hand into my hair, he growls.
"God, you taste better than I imagined. You're like caramel.
" He pulls back, but leaves his hand in my hair, stroking it.
"I wish you could kiss me back, pretty girl.
Beast thought you would taste like vanilla...
but your flavor is much more complex than that. "
Who the hell is Beast? Another captor that I haven't met yet? A crazier one? This guy has more than a couple of screws loose, I realize. And he has friends.
Rian nods to himself. He pushes up my white nightie, pinching a spot on my thigh. "Okay. On three..."
Then I feel a prick on my thigh and a burning sensation that quickly spreads out, licking my skin, warming flesh that I didn’t even know was cool.
For a pulse-pounding, stomach-churning moment, nothing happens.
Then my toes move.
I stare down at my feet as best I can. I wiggle them to confirm this is real, and it is. The paralysis is ending.
A sound comes out of my throat that I didn't plan on making. Something between a sob and a laugh. My first voluntary sound in days and it's completely humiliating; I absolutely don’t care.
Rian exhales like he's been holding his breath since he bought me. “Good. Good girl.”
Ignoring him, I keep moving my toes. The feeling of flexing them is such a relief that I groan.
My fingers come next, then my wrists, mobility creeping back up my body in slow degrees.
I flex my hands. I turn my head. I feel my face melt into a set expression that I haven't been able to make it do since the convenience store.
I press my lips together. I open my mouth.
"Water?" I plead. My voice sounds like I've been screaming for a week. Which, internally, I have.
“Right. Yeah.” Rian leaves the room, coming back with a glass of water and a metal straw. He puts the straw to my lips, seeming fascinated by me.
It gives me a chill, but I drink anyway. I’m so thirsty that I easily drain the entire glass; I’m hot. It’s stifling in here. I fan myself as he gets up and leaves to refill the glass. When he returns, I gulp down another half a glass.
“Can we open a window?” I pluck at my dress, which is sticking to my skin. A drop of sweat rolls down the side of my face.
“We’re in my penthouse, so that’s not an option.” Rian gets up and adjusts the temperature. He seems perfectly cool. I feel like I’m burning.
“Is this the side effect?” I writhe against the pillows. I would strip if I were wearing anything more than a lace dress, but I don’t think it would help anything.
He frowns. “Part of it.”
I pluck the bottom of my top, trying to circulate some air. “Fuck.”
A wave of warmth that builds too fast to track starts low in my stomach.
I press my thighs together, confused. My brain, which has been running at full speed since I woke up, starts supplying images I absolutely do not want.
Vivid fantasies starring the man currently sitting on the edge of the bed watching me with those pale eyes.
Doing naughty things to me… and me enjoying them, very vocally, over and over.
Seriously? I decide I am going to blame the drug for all of this and never revisit it.
“Are you feeling a sense of euphoria?"
I frown. “No…” What I am feeling is that I suddenly can’t stop looking at his hands. Wondering what he gets up to with those long fingers when he’s all alone. Does he make himself feel good? Stoke his cock? I bet so.
My thoughts spiral out of control and humiliation floods me. What is going on with me?
Rian leans closer, putting his hand on my face. I swear, I almost faint as he touches my cheek.
“You’re hot,” he says.
My eyes close for a second. “You think so?”
No man has ever flirted with me like this. Or done it with that low, rough voice. I open my eyes, biting my lip and parting my knees. Rian is looking at me with a little concern.
“Temperature-wise,” he corrects gently. “I think…”
He runs his fingertips down my arm. I shiver, heat making me break out in a sweat. I tilt my head.
I want him to touch me more.
“Noemi.”
“Hm?”
He tenses. “I think you’re feeling the effects of the drugs. They’re like ecstasy, only a whole lot stronger.”
“I’ve never taken any drugs,” I confess. My fingers itch at the hem of my dress again. It’s so hot right now that I’m about to strip naked in front of this stranger. I’m not embarrassed; it’s going to happen.
“I know, pretty girl.”
My hand is between my thighs before I decide to put it there.
It doesn't help. It makes everything significantly worse. The needy yelp I release is one I'd like to formally disown.