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turmoil of a powerful orgasm that left them both shuddering and panting hard.
    When the world stopped spinning, he got up and released her wrist from the cuff, helping her out of bed. "Shower time." He announced, taking her to the bathroom and leaving her there. "You have ten minutes."
    This time, he didn’t leave the bathroom, he simply grabbed his things and started shaving his beard, taking away her privacy, but surely he would reply that fuck toys didn’t need privacy.
    She entered the shower stall and let the warm water run down her body for a few moments before starting to wash, wishing she could wash away the past couple of days, erased them from time, from her life.
    When she was done, she steps out of the stall realizing he wasn’t there anymore, so she took one of the towels and dried her body, wondering if he intended to keep her in his bedroom or if he would take her back to her cell.
    She had her answer as soon as she returned to the bedroom. He was there waiting for her, with another dress in his hands for her to wear. Still, with no underwear.
    "Put this on, it's time to take you back to your cell." He ordered her.
    She grabbed the dress and put it on immediately. "Please, can I have something to read? I'm going insane inside those four walls." She asked, her head leaning down.
    "That's your problem, not mine. Let's go now, I don’t have all day." He rejected her request and she considered protesting, but she knew it would be useless. He wanted to make her suffer.
    He almost dragged her downstairs and into the cell. When he locked the door behind her back, she had to make a huge effort to keep the tears at bay.
    Days went by with little news. Every night he would get her out of her cell and cuff her to his bed, making her available for his use and every morning he would take her back to the damn cell, with Wilson as her nanny, bringing her meals. He never did anything to ease her loneliness and by then she didn’t expect it. He was punishing her, and that was his way of doing so. What infuriated her more was the fact she didn’t deserve this punishment, that she had been trying to go back to him, after risking her life to escape the bastards that had abducted her. She was never capable of thinking about the other part of his punishment. Every time she remembered her mother, her brain simply shut down and she started thinking of something else. She simply couldn’t face the fact that her mother was dead, that he had actually ordered her death. She couldn’t. She understood she was in denial, and maybe she would die still in denial.
    She was living one day at a time, refusing to analyze her life and the things happening to her: the empty days spent staring at her cell's walls and the nights filled with overwhelming passion, moans and whimpers of pure pleasure, and with moments where she felt so close to him, a part of him and he a part of her. It was simply maddening, and maybe that was the explanation: she had lost her mind.

 
    Chapter 8
    A week later, Jordan was in his office, looking at Wilson, sitting in front of him, across his desk. "How hard can it be to find this man?" he ranted.
    "It shouldn’t be this hard, I know and I understand your frustration. We're doing all we can, but it's as if he has disappeared from the face of the earth." Wilson explained, twisting his hands, nervously. Jordan had been extremely edgy lately, and they tried to avoid him as much as they could. Not being able to find the taxi driver didn’t help him.
    "What about the stolen drugs?"
    "We have a lead on that, boss. We're just waiting for confirmation. It seems the cargo is about to arrive in Honduras and the Marquez have a planned trip there next week. That is what makes us think we're on to something." Wilson explained, relieved he had changed the subject.
    "Keep me posted. I want to be there for the bust." He warned.
    "Yes, boss, sure thing." Wilson and Garcia were more than happy to be leaving Jordan's office.
    In