I made a small sound, and my body instinctively tried to pull back. Tried. Nothing much happened, though. Nothing but him stepping closer, chuckling. He must have seen the attempt. He seemed to see everything.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and when I saw the bottle of water in his hand, I opened my mouth, realizing how dry it was, how thirsty I was.

I couldn’t pull away or cover myself when his gaze raked over me, but when he reached into his pocket and produced a key that he used to unbind my wrists, all I felt was grateful.

“Really need to get you washed.”

He twisted the lid off the bottle, and I swallowed in anticipation. But then he brought the bottle to his lips and took a long sip, emptying half of it. I wanted to cry. I may have even, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

I blinked.

“I like you like this, you know? You’re kind of sweet when you’re not talking.”

Then he raised my head and held it as he brought the water to my lips and gave me two small sips before setting the bottle aside and standing.

“All right.”

He tugged his shirt off. It looked strange, his chest bare but him wearing that mask covering his face. In the dimly lit room, I saw he had a tattoo on part of his chest and down one arm. I couldn’t make out the shape, though. It was just shadow.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I barely had a chance to look at him before he hauled me up and carried me into the bathroom. My face bobbed against his muscular chest as he carried me, the skin soft, his scent clean, enticing even—or it would be if I wasn’t being held against my will. There was something else too. The scent was almost familiar. Was it an aftershave someone I knew wore? I couldn’t place it.

“This is probably going to be a little cold at first.”

I gasped when he set me into the freezing tub, but my head lolled to the side, and I lay there, shivering, unable to move. He pulled up a chair from the corner and sat. I watched his eyes as he took me in, traveling over the length of me. I tried to cover myself, managing to place a hand over my mound—or close enough to it I could pretend I shielded myself.

“Now, now.”

He turned on the taps. I tried to pull back at the rush of icy water that gurgled out. It sounded like no one had bathed here in a very long time.

“None of that,” he finished, pushing my hand away. “We’re going to get very intimate, you and I.”