“My mind?” Natalie asked.

“Tell me what I want to know, and you’ll earn water. Tell me enough, and I'll even leave you the bottle. The water from the pipes isn't fit for consumption. Taking care of you is my job.”

But you'll kidnap, freeze, and starve me to death? Instead of saying that, Natalie nodded.

“Go ahead,” he prompted, “take a sip.”

As she lifted the glass to her lips, she remembered his cocktail from the plane. She looked at Dexter’s glass of water. She couldn’t remember if she’d seen him drink any. Her hand stalled. “Did you...is this...?”

“Does it contain the drugs I gave you before?”

Her parched lips came together as she silently agreed.

“Will you believe me?”

It was a good question. She shouldn't. “I don't know. I suppose I have no choice.”

“Yet you'd ask. You hesitated. Why?”

She did as he said, answering honestly and not overthinking her response. “Because I didn't like it. I didn't like the way it made me feel.”

Dexter nodded. “That water isn't drugged. Go ahead and take a drink.”

Obeying, she was rewarded with a clear, clean, and refreshing drink. Unlike what the rancid water from the pipes would have done, each swallow from the glass lubricated her tongue and throat in a way the tea hadn't. How long had it been since she'd had water? She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, and then there were the hours spent on the floor.

Natalie didn't want to stop drinking. Dexter had said one drink. Perhaps if she never stopped swallowing, it would still be one. Her mind told her to put the glass down, but she couldn't. It tasted too good. Now that her body had food, this was the other element to life.

The realization hit her: no matter how strange her life had become, she wanted life. She wanted to live.

Finally, she put the empty glass down, scared to look across the table at what she might see. Instead of anger, Dexter's laugh echoed throughout the small room, reverberating over the stark walls. “My bug was thirsty. Now then, I allowed you your reward before you did your part. It's time. Tell me what you're thinking.”

“What I'm thinking?”

He moved his head back and forth. “If I wanted a parrot, I would have taken one. I took you, a thinking and breathing sexy, smart woman. I took you, bug. You're now mine. Tell me how you feel. How...” He gestured about the white room. “...this makes you feel and your thoughts from the time you woke until now.”

It was a tall order. Exposing her breasts was easier than her thoughts.

Don't overthink. That was what he'd told her.

“I was scared. I still am.”

“Go on.”

“I was hungry. That's better.” She looked around the room, suddenly realizing it resembled the images she'd conjured in her mind about foreign mental institutions. She wasn't the one who was crazy. No. That person was sitting across the table from her, his arms folded over his wide chest, assessing her and her exposed breasts. “I'm embarrassed and quite honestly, humiliated.”

“Why?”

She fidgeted with the blanket on her lap. “I'm sitting here without a top, without clothes, with only a blanket. It should be rather obvious.”

“You're mine. I'm keeping you. That means every part of you, bug. There's nothing that should embarrass you. Baring yourself to me shouldn't be embarrassing.”

“But it is,” she answered too quickly. “I don't know you, and regardless of what you say, I don't belong to you. I'm not your bug.” Nat shook her head. “I really hate that, too. It's patronizing.”

His blue-green eyes lightened with amusement. “Well, that won't stop. I like it. And as I told you, you'll earn your name back.”

Earn. Why was everything earned?

“Now tell me,” he went on, “what proof you need to understand that you do belong to me, that you are mine. Would a bill of sale make it better? A contract? I can have one drawn up that we’ll both sign, but essentially a marriage license is the same thing. The one we have now isn't real. But one day…”

When she didn't respond, he continued, “How about my intimate knowledge of your sexy body? Will that prove that you're mine? For example, the way your pussy clenches even when you're unconscious?”

Natalie gasped, squeezing her legs together. “Did you...?”

“Did I...what? Fuck you?”

She didn't respond as tears filled her eyes. If only she could cover all of herself with the blanket, her face, her head, and of course, her breasts.

“No,” Dexter answered, “I didn't. I want the first time that I'm inside you to be something we both remember. As much as I wanted to...” He uncrossed his arms as his biceps bulged, and he leaned forward. “...and I still want to—I didn't.”

A lone tear trickled down her cheek. “Thank you.”

More gratitude for things that should never be gifts: a blanket, food, and her purity. And then she remembered his words. “But you said you know how...how I clench?’

“One taste. I'm a man, and you're a beautiful woman who was bared to me. One day you'll want me to taste you, to bury my face in your cunt until you scream my name. It was only one taste.”

Her head fell forward as more tears flowed.

“Bug?”

Her head snapped up. “Violated!”

Dexter's gaze darkened. “I didn't violate you.”

“You asked me how I feel. There, that's it. Violated.”

“You were not. I could have. You were right there.” His large hand slapped the table. Plates and glasses jumped as silverware clanked and water sloshed. His expression hardened. “I could do it right now. Who's going to stop me? Not you. Not anyone.

“You need to get that through your head. You're now mine to do with as I want. Even knowing that you're mine—at my disposal at any time—I respected you enough to go no further than to remove your clothes, taste your lips, kiss your soft skin, and yes, take one small taste of your warm pussy.

“Do you know what you did?”

She shook her head. She didn't want to know. The meal she'd eaten along with the tea and water were churning faster by the second. “No.”

“You instantly became wet. Did I want to be inside you with my fingers, tongue, or cock? Yes, but I didn't. I'm not sure what other assholes you've been with, but when I do those things, it'll be with your consent and for your pleasure.”

Her neck straightened. “None.” She wasn't sure why she'd told him—why it slipped out—but she had, and she couldn't take it back.

“None,” Dexter repeated her word slowly as the realization hit him. “None, no one?”

She shook her head.

“You've never been with a man?” He stood, the astonishment overtaking his whole demeanor. “Answer me, damn it.”

"No! No assholes in my past, no good guys either." You're the only asshole.

Dexter ran his hand over his face and paced a small circle. "Fuck. Fuck." He turned her way. “No, you're lying. You're twenty years old. High school...college?”

“So because I never slept with a man, there's something wrong? Fine, there is. And I want to keep it that way.” Tired of this discussion, she pulled the blanket back over her shoulders and tucked it around her chin, covering her breasts. “I'm not lying. I'm also done with the sandwich. Leave the water, if I've given you what you wanted or if you've taken it. If you're not satisfied, don't leave it. Let me dehydrate or starve. I don’t care. Whatever. I'm done.”

He yanked her to her feet, holding her shoulders at arm's length. “You're not in a position to dismiss me—ever. We're done when I say we're done.” His eyes were now the deepest ocean depth. “Do not fucking lie. Are you a virgin?”

She lifted her chin. “I was when I woke yesterday.”

“One fucking taste, a kiss to your sweet, wet lips. I didn't...how the fuck would I know?”

Indignation rang as her volume increased. “I don't know, you could have asked or let me tell you. There are more possibilities than drugging and kidnapping me!”

She didn't see his hand until it was too late. The slap echoed throughout the room. Her cheek stung as tears filled her eyes.

Dexter took a step back. “Don't make me do that again.”

Make him? What could she possibly say? He'd just hit her, actually slapped her.

Dexter's tone hardened. “Respect. I gave it to you by not fucking you when I could—which includes right now, too. You give it to me. That was your last outburst. The next one will be met with a harsher reply.”

Harsher than a slap?

She straightened her shoulders, ignoring the tears flowing down her cheeks. “Yes. I'm a virgin. And if you want the money my father will pay to get me back, you'll return me to him that way.”

Dexter took another step back, increasing the distance between them and rubbing his hand over the dark blond stubble on his chin. “You have this all wrong. I'm not holding you for ransom. Not everyone is after your daddy's money. I have plenty of my own.

“You're here for one reason: because you're mine. We're meant to be together. I'm not returning you.” He turned a small circle. The muscles in his neck tensed as his jaw clenched. “Now, bug, we're done. Drop the blanket.”

Her eyes widened.

He tipped his head toward the floor, the spot where she'd knelt. “Stand in position—unless you'd rather kneel.” His blue-green eyes shone her way, daring her to disobey.

With her heart beating faster, she dropped the blanket and made her way to where he'd pointed. Biting her lip, she did as he'd said: feet shoulder-distance apart, shoulders back, arms at her side, palms out, and lastly, chin up. The cold chill returned, tracking up her body with a prickling awareness from the soles of her feet upon the hard floor all the way to her tingling scalp.

As if she were no longer there, Dexter busied himself, putting the food back on the cart as well as the table and chairs. Once the room was clear, he turned. His gaze moved up her body, lingering momentarily on her pussy and then her breasts. When their eyes met, he said, “A virgin.” He shook his head. “I guess I do know how to pick them.”

Natalie momentarily closed her eyes.

“I'll leave the blanket and the rest of the water. Don't move until the door is shut. When I return be exactly as you are now. For the rest of the day, my two rules are simple. First, no touching or pleasuring yourself. Don't think that you can in the bathroom. There's a camera in there too. And do not bathe. We'll discuss that on my next visit.”

He walked closer until the musk of his cologne filled her senses and the warmth radiating from his chest rippled over her bare skin. “Tell me, have you? Touched yourself? Made yourself come?”

Heat sparked in her cheeks. Not only there, a flicker of flame heated her core with an embarrassing rush of warmth.

“Please, Dexter.”

His grin grew. “Oh, you have. I can tell. It's permissible to think about it. When you do, think about how much better it will be with a man, one who knows how to please you.” His knuckle caressed her jaw. “That's it, bug, imagine. Just do not touch.” He stepped back as his cocky grin widened. “Can you behave?”

“Yes.”

“For the record, I said you should never feel embarrassed, and I meant it. I'm glad to know you've touched yourself. I can tell the idea turns you on. Your cheeks are pink, and I smell your arousal.” He laughed. “Even caressing your own tits made you hot. Remember that now, even touching your own perky breasts is against the rules. I’m the only one who can bring you that kind of pleasure.”

He tweaked her nipple. “Oh, the possibilities.” He pinched it harder.

“Ouch,” Nat said, not moving from her position.

“What I didn't say is that I wouldn't humiliate you. I will. Because I also enjoy that. I'll also exalt you. You can plan on me doing both. Just remember, it'll only be me who’ll debase you, only I’ll see you broken, because only I can put you back together.

“You're my bug, but more importantly, you're also my queen. No one else will ever see or know what we do alone.”

Her breathing deepened at his final statement. Though his speech left her future open to more possibilities than she could conjure, his words weren’t said as a threat, but as a promise.

And then he was gone. Natalie's shoulders relaxed as the door shut. She rushed to the blanket lying on the floor and wrapped it around her.

She replayed the entire encounter.

She wasn’t insane or having a break with reality. Dexter was.

The man was certifiably nuts. What did he mean that she was his? What did he mean about her not being ransomed? If she weren’t, how would she get back to her life? And how dare he tell her not to touch herself? She hadn't planned on it. But now, the seed was planted...