Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight.

My bowels clenched in dark humour beneath. I swiftly grabbed the bedclothes, squeezing gently, almost feeling paranoid. What was he going to do, bath me?

As his hands made slight contact with my skin, as he tried to lift me up from the bed, I gasped in fear, flinching away.

He paused, looking at me quizzically.

“That hurt?” he looked concerned.

“Why can’t a female nurse do it?” I murmur, feeling flustered, and the colour indignantly rising to my cheeks.

He smirked with mischief playing in the depths of his eyes.

“You don’t need any nurses.” He said in finality, all bossy.

He made to carry me again, but I flinched, this time, letting out a cry; “stop!”. Fear and anxiety were evident in my voice.

“I’ll have a nurse wash me.” My eyes rolled in desperation.

He drew in a sharp breath, his eyes getting fierce with defiance.

“There’s no spare nurse to BATH you, Miss Gahlehnah!” he stated angrily, with a special, imposing accent for my name.

“They’re all too busy attending to emergencies.” He said through clenched teeth. I could see his lips snap back into a grim, impassive line.

“But I’m also an emergency!” I interject.

“No, you’re not!” he reprimands and swiftly lifts me off the bed in bridal style, caring not to hurt me. I squeal and groan in fear and pain.

“Let me go! I don’t want a bath!”

“You have no idea how you stink of blood and sweat and death!”

*Wait, am I really smelling that bad?* I gasp.

“Put me down! I can walk!” I struggle aimlessly.

“No.” he said stubbornly, taking me into the bathroom.

“I don’t want you to bathe me!” I scream in terror.

“Be quiet!” he commanded. His grey eyes flashing thunderbolts and mists of anger.

I melted under his intense stare, my lips going shut against my throat. How can he be so intimidating?

He kicks the bathroom door open and walks in, gently sinking me down into the bathtub. His eyes burned into mine searchingly, possessively.


* * * * *

I was scared. Terrified. I was helpless before this man.

He pulled the hoodie I had on gently. It was his hoodie. I gasped when the hoodie came off me, brushing past my hands and head, leaving me stark naked. I looked away from him quickly in embarrassment, and I could sense his eyes feasting on me.

He regarded me for a moment before crossing over me with his hand to reach over to the faucet behind me to turn it on, gently, and his hitched breathing could be closely felt in my ear. The water gently massaged my back intrepidly and I closed my eyes, letting out an involuntary moan.

Quickly realising my environment, I tried to cover myself, but I could barely move my hands, as they hurt each time I tried. I looked away from him furtively, blinking my eyes in embarrassment.

He gave a low, dark chuckle at my expression. I could literally feel his wicked grin on me. He reached behind me and turned off the tap, and his hand softly brushed against my skin in the process, stilling my nerves and sending chills down my spine. I could smell his vanilla body wash seeping gently from the embossment of his skin. His breath was over my ear, disarming me, even when my arms were broken.

“I know every detail of you more than you do,” he whispered huskily with his lips over my ear, “what’s there to hide?”

I cringed and stilled at his words. I thought my heart had stopped for a second, and I swallowed the lump that had begun to grow in my throat. The heat in my body was rising and detonating at the same time.

He stands up and walks to the mini closet in the bathroom and retrieves a body wash, and a new sponge. He squirts the liquid mercurially into the sponge, his veins grinning with pleasure from his strong, manly hands. He squirts some shampoo into his hand and kneels beside me, gently digging his long fingers into my hair, until the shampoo is absorbed. I wasn’t used to this, but I couldn’t deny the fact that the feeling was both intoxicating and relaxing.

He takes the bath’s hand-held shower and sprays some water into my hair, rinsing it, while tilting my head slightly to the back. When he’s done, he replaces it on the tub and releases the tub’s button to let the water flow imminently out of it.

“I’m going to sponge you now.” he announces, as if seeking my approval. Not like what I had to say mattered to him anyway.

I was instantly tensed up by the idea of him sponging me, caring for my body. I couldn’t imagine him doing that for me. I turn my face towards him, but I dared not look at his face. My eyes just followed the motion of his sexy hands. I slap myself mentally, bringing to mind that this man here was my enemy. Yes, my intoxicating, sexy, enemy. He started sponging me slowly, skillfully, in circles, then up and down. I close my eyes, not wanting to look at him at all.

“Enjoying this?”

I stiffen, fluttering my eyes open at his words, looking anywhere else but him.

“What you wanted a woman to do, eh?”

His voice was hushed, but still, it conveyed so much mockery. I flushed scarlet with embarrassment, my body heating up at his every touch, though the water was warm and crisp.

He stopped. Suddenly.

He pulled his hand away from me, looking at me intently, as if remembering a heart wrenching incident. I glanced at him and quickly looked away, feeling nervous.

“Why didn’t you take the tip?” he asked with a very pissed expression. The kind I saw in his eyes that night.

I wanted to scream; *“because I'm not a slut, idiot*!” but my throat suddenly went dry at his question. Extremely dry. I looked into his burning grey eyes with pain and anger brimming within me. What was he expecting me to say?

He cocked his head to one side as if it was just too complex for him to understand. He sighed, sizing me up in his gaze. He licked his lower lip and soon his wet hand was running through his hair, roughening it, giving it a frizzy look. HOT.

“I noticed the bedclothes were stained. With blood. I guess I went too hard on you?” he seemed unconvinced by his own words. “And…you were very tight, though, i don’t want to believe that was your first time.” he added, looking sated with himself.

I couldn’t read my own expression at that point, though I knew I had a reaction to his words, but I couldn't just figure out what my reaction was.

“Is that why you were so mad at me?” *Oh God, this man*!

“Can you stop, talking, about this?” I asked irritatedly.

“No.” *oh, this stubborn man.*

“What do you want me to say!?” I questioned, glaring at him. I was furious, the tears were already pooling in my eyes, waiting to pour.

“Just answer me.” he commanded with a regal expression. “I don’t want you to always suffer for me.” he said dejectedly, he looked like he owed me a favour.

“Oh, so, you know!?”

“Yes. And that’s why I will always protect you. You saved my life once, I will save yours for a lifetime.”

*I saved!? Or you raped*!? I wanted to squeal, but he started speaking to someone on his phone immediately, while his intense gaze burned into me. I watched him with hatred and irritation as his lips quivered in response, dishing out orders.

His buttons were undone partly, revealing his fine, sculpted chest. I could briefly remember the feel on my skin that night. I gasped in embarrassment, my throat begging for water, or wine. I needed to drown these thoughts, my experiences from that night.

He glanced at me with a stern I’m-not-finished-with-you look. This entitled man just gave me his most enigmatic words - to protect me for a lifetime, yet I was confused if this was a promise of gratitude or entitlement.

Gratitude for what!? This man must surely be taking me for someone else! But the fact that he knows my name confuses me even more. Could this be a setup from my boyfriend, or Mia?

“NO! Don’t let her in!” he growls and I am distracted from my thoughts.

“Yes. put her on!” He was furious.

“Keep her out of this. This is between us, Freya.” he looked exhausted. He darted his eyes indignantly at me, with worry, fear and anger filling him. He sucked his teeth angrily, and soon, he was sponging me again, but this time, harshly. I winced in pain, flinching at his touch.

He stopped, drew in a sharp, deep breath, and shut his eyes tightly. He opened them again and resumed the process of sponging me, but this time, more slowly and gently.

I heaved heavily, letting out a sigh. This is more complex than I thought. Could he be some sort of maniac? I certainly had to escape from this man somehow. Did he have to temporarily cripple my arms just so he could tell me how entitled he was to everything about me? Oh shit it!

“You don’t have to be responsible for me. I can take care of myself.” the words gibberish rolled off my tongue.

“Do you now?” he asked indignantly. “Well, I am responsible for you, and I am not seeking your opinion on this!” he snapped, with his sultry voice getting more intimidating.

“I’m cold.” I say meekly, trying not to look at his face, which I was sure was pink with anger.

*Oh, Galena, we really have to find a way to escape from this man.*