Chapter 35
CIPHER
My pulse thrummed with an erratic rhythm over the terrifying gamble I had just taken. I had handed her the key to her own cage just to see if she would use it, desperate for her to validate my possessive madness by refusing to leave.
But she had hesitated. For one agonizing second, I thought she was going to end our arrangement.
“You’re remarkably passive for a prisoner,” I commented, adjusting my grip on her thighs. “I prefer when you fight.”
For someone who’d given me such fierce resistance any other time, this docile compliance was almost disappointing. She remained perfectly still, her breathing steady against my back.
“Cat got your tongue?” I asked, unable to resist baiting her.
“Fuck you,” she replied, but the words lacked any real bite.
I carried her into my bedroom and deposited her onto the center of the mattress.
She just sat there, watching me. I could tell she was thinking and I was pretty sure she was caught up on what I’d said about feelings in the lab.
But the conversation was over, there was nothing left to say.
She was just going to drive herself mad thinking about it.
It didn’t matter right now anyway. I needed to suit up.
The notification queue on my interface was flooded with requests for street clashes.
Even the Alliance was formally requesting I make an appearance so their Heroes could dole out some highly televised “justice” against me for the twenty-seven bodies I’d dropped.
The public demanded a spectacle, and I’d give them one.
But first I needed to check on Dread’s data chip. The files were almost decrypted and I was confident I’d have a readable file by the afternoon to pass on to Dread. I pulled them up, trying to ignore Annie still watching me from the bed.
“Cipher?”
I kept my eyes fixed on the monitor. “What?”
“When you asked me if I wanted to end our arrangement, what would you have done if I had said yes?”
My hands stopped moving over the keyboard. I could have lied and maintained the weak illusion that we were two rational adults engaging in a mutually beneficial, entirely voluntary transaction.
I swiveled the chair around to face her.
“I would have done the exact same thing I’m doing now. I would have locked the lab door, declared you a security risk, and kept you here anyway. The choice was an illusion, Sparks. I have absolutely no intention of letting you walk away from me.”
I braced myself for the anger, for the inevitable accusations that I was a monster. Annie slid off the edge of the bed and walked over to me. As she closed the distance, I reached behind me and swiped the Project Warden files away so she couldn’t see them.
She stepped between my parted knees, and reached out, threading her fingers into my hair, her nails lightly scraping against my scalp.
I closed my eyes, letting out a fractured breath.
Fuck, I loved when she touched me. Her hands were a soothing balm against the chaotic, violent noise inside my head.
But the dark, twisted reality of the moment made the sensation infinitely sweeter.
I loved it even more because she was touching me knowing the truth: I was never going to let her leave, and she was choosing to stroke the monster anyway.
I caught her wrists, pulling her soothing hands away from my scalp as I stood and scooped her up. She gasped but she didn’t fight as I carried her into the bathroom.
“I thought you had fights to get to,” she said, her voice echoing slightly against the glass and stone.
“I do,” I replied, setting her down. “But I need you to get ready first. Strip,” I ordered.
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I assume you want to shower and change your clothes.”
“I’m a prisoner,” she shot back. “Who cares what I’m wearing?” Her chin lifted in that stubborn way I was growing far too fond of. “And I’m not stripping for you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the counter. “Prisoners don’t get to argue with orders, Sparks. Either you strip, or I’ll strip you myself.”
“Prisoners don’t have to be compliant either.” She was testing the perimeter of her cage, probing the electric fence to see just how much voltage I was willing to use.
“You’ll find you like your captivity much more if you do as you’re told.”
“I don’t think you prefer when I’m submissive,” she challenged. “You’d get bored if I just rolled over and did everything you said without question.”
My cock hardened instantly at her words, the sudden rush of blood making me shift my stance. She wasn’t wrong. I wanted to push her until her brain short-circuited and her body surrendered, but the victory meant nothing if she didn’t fight me first.
“Interesting theory,” I replied. “You think you’ve figured me out already?”
“You like the chase,” she said, taking a half-step closer. “You like that I make you work for it.”
“I enjoy the process of breaking resistance,” I admitted, letting my gaze drop to her throat, watching her pulse hammer against her skin. “But make no mistake, I still expect you to end up doing what I want.”
“Maybe. But I’ll never make it easy for you.”
She was a dangerous addiction. She knew exactly what I was, a violent, possessive monster, and yet she stood here in my bathroom, barefoot and unarmed, deliberately provoking me.
“I seem to recall being quite compliant last night,” I said. “When you ordered me to shower and eat.”
“That’s different. You weren’t my prisoner.”
“Wasn’t I?” I cocked a brow. “I followed your commands without question. I was at your complete mercy, Bishop.”
Annie made a noise in the back of her throat.
“Strip,” I repeated, not bothering to soften the command.
“Fine,” she finally said.
I leaned against the counter, making no effort to hide my appreciation as she pulled her sweatshirt over her head. Her skin flushed under my scrutiny, a delicate pink spreading from her cheeks down her neck to her chest.
“Happy now?” she challenged, standing before me in just her bra and jeans.
“Getting there. Keep going.”
My cock strained painfully against my pants as I watched her shimmy out of the rest of her clothing.
“Shower,” I instructed, gesturing toward the glass enclosure.
Annie stepped into the shower, adjusting the temperature. Steam began to rise around her, water cascading down her curves. When she reached for the glass door, I stopped it with my palm and leaned against the frame.
She narrowed her eyes at me but turned toward the spray, letting water soak her hair. “Pervert,” she muttered.
“Guilty.”
I watched as rivulets traced paths down her spine, over the swell of her ass. My fingers itched to follow those same trails.
Annie caught my gaze as she tilted her head back. Something flickered behind those blue eyes as she reached for the body wash, the movement deliberately slow. The way her fingers wrapped around the bottle was unnecessarily sensual, her thumb stroking the cap before flipping it open.
Oh.
Her plan crystallized as she poured the liquid directly onto her palm instead of reaching for the washcloth hanging nearby. Manipulative little brat. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Annie spread the soap across her collarbone first, fingers trailing down to cup her breasts. Her eyes never left mine as she massaged them, thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened into tight peaks.
She turned, giving me a perfect view of her ass as she bent slightly to soap her legs. She was weaponizing her own body to see if she could break my composure. She wanted to prove she held some fraction of power in my domain.
I pushed off the doorframe. I didn’t bother breaking eye contact as I unbuckled my belt, the leather sliding free with a sharp snap. Her hands stalled on her thighs.
“Don’t stop on my account,” I instructed. I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it onto the vanity. “You were putting on such a beautiful performance.”
I shoved my pants down and stepped out of them. The steam licked across my skin as I opened the glass door wider and stepped into the spray.
Annie backed up until her shoulders hit the tile as I boxed her in, planting my hands on the wall on either side of her head. The water plastered her dark hair to her neck and shoulders.
“You think you’re clever,” I murmured, leaning in until my mouth hovered inches from her ear. “You think you can bait me into losing control.”
“I was just washing,” she breathed. Her chest heaved, brushing her slick, hard nipples against my chest with every inhale.
“Liar.” I caught her chin between my thumb and index finger, tilting her face up.
I took the bottle of body wash from her and squeezed a generous amount into my palm.
“If you want to be touched, you don’t have to put on a show. You just have to submit.”
I pressed my soap-slicked hand flat against her sternum. Her breath caught in a sharp gasp as I dragged my palm down, mapping the rigid line of her ribs, the dip of her navel, the soft curve of her stomach. My other hand gripped her hip, holding her in place.
I slid my fingers lower, tangling in the slick hair between her thighs.
“Cipher—”
“Quiet.” I found her clit and applied a precise, agonizingly slow pressure. She arched off the tile, a strangled moan tearing from her throat. “I dictate the pace. I dictate the method. You just take it.”
I stroked her, using the slick soap and the water. Her legs parted wider. She clutched my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. She was at my mercy, her earlier bravado shattered into desperate, uncoordinated need.
“Look at me,” I commanded.
Her lids fluttered open.
“Who holds the power here, Annie?” I asked, my thumb circling her faster.
“You,” she choked out, her hips jerking against my hand. “You do.”
“Good girl. Now turn around. Hands flat against the tile and spread your legs.”
For once, she didn’t argue. Annie spun, placing her palms flat against the shower wall, her back arching. I stepped closer, my cock pressing against her as I reached around to stroke her beautiful cunt.