35. Magnus
H er confusion makes my lips quirk. For days now I’ve left her alone, coming back only at night to bathe her, take care of her, and then sleep beside her.
At first, I thought I imagined it, the way her eyes seemed to almost sparkle when I walked into the room and in truth, it could have simply been her fear but now, now I’m certain there is more.
She’s cracking. The bitch is finally cracking.
I shouldn’t feel the way I do at that knowledge, I shouldn’t feel so enthralled by the idea that she now wants me.
But I let out a slow rumble of amusement as I rub that beautifully scarred skin on her back.
“What’s so funny?” she whispers, just loud enough for me to hear.
The shake of my head is all I give her in reply. It’s another thing I’ve learnt. Don’t speak. Don’t actively engage. Just keep taunting her with this supposed kindness.
Her hands ball into fists below the water, but she keeps her breath steady, bites down any insults that are no doubt swirling in that intelligent brain of hers.
From the angle I’m at, I have a near perfect view of her chest. Her body has definitely benefited from the change in her prison arrangements. Her breasts are looking fuller, her rib cage has stopped protruding and that gaunt, starved expression on her face has faded.
It’s all I can do not to reach out and just take her.
As I bring the cloth down over her front, she opens her legs, just a little, as if urging me to cross that line. I can’t tell if it’s a conscious decision on her part. Looking into those suddenly fierce eyes suggests that it’s not. No, she’ll still outwardly fight me if I try anything and yet that makes it all the more tempting.
Part of me wants that fight, no, needs it.
I’m dying to pin her down and force myself inside her and feel as every cell in her body fights against me.
I want to feel her anger, and her hate, I want to grapple with all those twisting emotions.
And more than anything, I want to prove to her that it makes no difference. That she can fight, and scream, and protest in any which way she pleases, I will have her, I will have all of her.
Only, I can’t do that right this moment. I have to bide my time. It’s a subtle war I’m fighting, a psychological battle.
I’ve already stripped her body down, broken it into as many pieces as I could. Now, I’m going to do the same to her mind.