Keeping My Captive by Angela Snyder
CHAPTER39
Mateo
ARIA COMES TO bed not long after I do that night. I watch her closely and grow angry when she refuses to meet my gaze even once. She’s mad at me. But, hell, I’d be mad at me too. I lost my temper with her earlier. When my uncle opened his fucking mouth about my past, spilling my secrets, it pissed me off. But when I saw the look of pity in Aria’s face, well, let’s just say the rage inside of me overtook my emotions. I don’t want her fucking pity. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. But least of all, her.
She changes in the bathroom and comes out wearing what looks like a silk blouse and matching shorts. I don’t even have it in me to remind her that I want her wearing one of my shirts to bed. She can wear whatever she wants tonight. But just for tonight.
With a pained whimper, she climbs into bed and lays down on her stomach as far away from me as she can.
Reaching for a special numbing cream on the nightstand that I used on her whip marks, I get up on my knees and go to her.
She immediately tenses up when I reach for the waistband of her shorts. “Please, no,” she begs with fear flooding her voice.
She thinks I’m going to take her again. And while I would love to do just that, I know I went too far tonight. “I’m going to put some cream on you,” I explain. “It will help with the pain.”
When she visibly relaxes, I pull down her shorts. Her plump ass is covered with my belt marks, and just the sight of them has my cock roaring to life. She looks so damn sexy with my marks on her, but I force myself to settle down and focus on the task at hand.
After scooping some of the cream out of the container and into my hands, I begin to gently rub it into her backside. At first, she flinches with every movement, but eventually she just learns to accept my touch.
This reminds me of when I was taking care of her after she was whipped, and a deep frown tugs at my lips. I didn’t want her to be in pain like that ever again and just look at what I did to her tonight.
I fucked up. Royally.
“I should have taken my anger out on my uncle,” I tell her by way of apology. I’m new to this shit. Apologizing for my actions. I’ve never had to account for any of my fuckups before. I’ve always either fought or killed my way through them as a solution.
Aria doesn’t answer me. I suspect she’ll be mad at me for a while. And why does that thought upset me? I never cared before who liked me or who hated me. But I suddenly care what she thinks? I want her to like me?
I shake my head. She shouldn’t like me. Just look at what she’s endured since she arrived here. I’d hate me if I were her.
And the brutal realization of that hits me like a massive tidal wave, threatening to drown me altogether. She’s just trying to survive in my world here. And she’s been such a brave girl in doing so. Hell, she tried to kill me the first night here. And if our roles were reversed, I would have tried the same damn thing.
It’s too late to take back what I’ve done. And I know I’ll inevitably fuck up in the future with her. It’s not like I can just change overnight. What I can do, though, is try. I can try for her. Try to be a better man, someone she can learn to care for. And maybe, someday, I could learn to care for her too. I’ve already killed for her. That was the easy part. I’d do it a thousand times over. I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her or so much as looked at her the wrong way. But the idea of falling for her scares the ever-living hell out of me.
When I hear Aria’s soft snores, I realize that I put her to sleep with my soothing touch. That makes the future of our relationship seem possible. As long as there is some gentle aftercare, she can perhaps handle everything I give to her. And there is so much more I want to do to my little captive.
I rub the rest of the lotion in as gently as I can before pulling up her shorts. Then, I cover her with a sheet and lay beside her, watching her sleep for a while before I eventually drift off.
