Three long nights passed where Jasmine barely got any sleep. It was deprived by the moaning, groaning, and screams passing through the walls, floating out toward the hallways.

Different woman crept out of his bedroom dressed in scandalizing lingerie— leaving nothing to the imagination. Besides their near-naked bodies, the flushed faces, messy hair and small smiles on their faces, revealed fully satisfied women–who's sexual appetites were thoroughly satisfied.

It was night, after night, after night.

For the past three nights.

Moments like this happened at the hotel where guests were too loud and disturbing the comfort and rest of others. She was an experienced problem solver and took pride in handling any situation that would arise.

But this time. This time it was different.

This wasn't on her own territory. She wasn't in charge. She wasn't the boss.

Something inside her sensed he was doing it on purpose to torment her, to annoy and infuriate her with anger aside from appeasing his obsessive sexual desires. He knew she could hear what was going on. They were loud. Like two wild creatures. Hell, the entire castle could probably hear them.

If he expected her to be jealous and want to be in those women's places, he couldn't be farther from the truth. Jasmine wasn't envious, not in the least. She felt dirty and sick to her stomach. She cringed every time she listened to the women screaming out their orgasm. To be used for their bodies in such a way was beneath her morals.

It made her feel ashamed to be a woman.

Jasmine glanced anxiously down the dim, empty hall. It was on the third night she stood outside his door fully ready to knock and blast him for being such a selfish-inconsiderate pig. To give him a piece of her mind and tell him what she thought of him. Reaching the set of double doors to his bedroom, she tensed listening to a growl. The muscles in her shoulders bunched and her face turned a shade of beet red.

Jasmine stood there, still determined and ready to knock when she heard mewling sounds came from a woman. Satisfied grunts came from him.

Her arm dropped back her side and her hands clench into fists.

Disgusting, she thought. This was the longest he'd ever lasted with a woman and the loudest. Sparingly, Jasmine wondered what she looked like. Was she that beautiful and skilled? Where she captured his attention so thoroughly.

In the next moment, something hit the door and she jumped in surprise. It was as though a body was thrown or pushed against it. Then the banging occurred again. Jasmine's jaw dropped, realizing they were having sex against the door. Every frantic thrust from Cristiano's hips against his lover pushed her body into the door at a rhythm.

Jasmine stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped breathing. She was paralyzed and couldn't stop her overactive imagination playing the scene before her.

He grabbed the woman's thighs, lifting her, slamming her against the door, her legs wrapped around his strong hips, holding her where he wanted her and resumed having hard sex. Every thrust of his banged against the door. The woman moans, grabbing a fistful of his hair, as he took her body hard, ruthlessly. There was no stopping the cries that left her throat or the savage grunts he made as he hit deep inside her core again and again. Harder, then quicker. The woman screams as his hips slapped against her faster. His fingers dug into her bottom and kept her still for his thrusts. As the last ripple of the females orgasm faded, his began.

Moments passed, she did not realize she was holding her breath. Jasmine squeezed her eyes tightly for a brief moment trying to shake the sick image from her mind. If her opinion of Cristiano was bad before, it was at an all time low now.

Ready to vomit, she made her way blindly back to the bedroom they placed in her just four days earlier. Her emotions fluctuated between anger, despair and dread. Quietly she shut the door, and crossed to the balcony to stand in the night air, shaking with anger–at herself.

What the hell was she doing confronting him? She had no right. This was his home where he could do as he pleases. Who was she other than a prisoner, expected to do what she was told. Besides, it wasn't like he would stop what he was doing and listen to her. Knowing him, he'd spite her and do worse if he ever knew she was so uncomfortable.

Despair pounded in her veins, in her heart. Loneliness, crushed through her like an oceans wave. She was losing, she thought as she braced her hands on the rail and hung her head, hating herself and despising Cristiano. Fighting tears of furious frustration, she gritted her teeth.

She hated him so much, it hurt.

What she hated more is when she wasn't in control. She hated she couldn't do anything. She was trapped with no way out. A part of her felt disconnected from herself, like part of her soul was dangling in front of her. Like Cristiano was the one with all the power and he connected them by an umbilical cord so her own person was no longer just her own.

Her eyes flickered open as she stared sightlessly into the distance.

She could kill him, escape him.

Jasmine shook her head at her crazy thoughts. She could play dirty but she could never take a life unless it was in self-defense.

A lemony scent filled the cool night air emitting from the countless lemon trees planted on the vast grounds of the palace. The L-shaped balcony overlooked the broad drive leading from the huge black gates of the palace grounds up to the grand front entrance. If she really focused, she could see soldiers–his guards, posted below. To the right the gardens were barely visible in the night except for the spot lights illuminating the pebbled walkway.

She must save herself. Nobody was going to do it for her. In this day and age, a girl had nobody but herself to depend on. Somehow, she had to escape. She had to find a way passed the guards and the staff. Looking down at her sweat pants and t-shirt she finalized her decision.

Tonight. She had to escape tonight.

Driven by sheer survival instinct, not bothering to overthink the idea and despite feeling days worth of exhaustion anchoring her, she stepped back into the room determined to leave and not look back.

Before she knew what she was doing, Jasmine sprinted across the room and slipped into the dressing room. With trembling hands, she changed into jeans, shirt, a knee high cardigan and sturdy leather flats–the only pair of flats amongst stiletto heels.

Brushing her hair and lifting it away from her face, she washed, applying minimal make-up. The dark circles under her eyes showed just how little sleep she was getting. Applying some concealer in a frustrated breath and shaky hands, Jasmine dashed out of the bathroom, ready to reach for the door and make her escape. Ripping the door open and stepping over the threshold, she came face to face with Cristiano stepping into her sight.

She froze.

As he stared at her, a dangerous half-smile curved his hard mouth. "Don't you look pretty." He complimented.

Jasmine forgot to move, staring at his naked chest. He was beautiful, majestic. The sight of his broad shoulders and powerful arms looked like sculpted marble. Her gaze traveled over his sun-kissed chest and carved abdominal muscles. Bronzed, it radiated power and control. The mass of hardened muscle was perfectly hewn, without an ounce of fat. He must of just showered and put on a pair of pants in his haste. His skin and hair was still wet from his shower.

She lifted her gaze slowly from his flawless upper body to his angular face and found him watching her. Bright pink spots formed on her cheeks at getting caught staring at his naked upped body.

They stared at each other.

His sculpted chest heaved, lust glittering in his eyes. His dark hair spilled like luxurious sin around his face, looking like a wild stallion and very, very male. Even with a few feet separating them, a scent of musky soap, ever so faint, emitted off his freshly clean skin.

Retreating a step, somewhat dazzled by him, she couldn't recall ever seeing a man look so powerfully erotic as him in that moment. A bewildering surge of longing rushed through her. Her skin felt alive and extra sensitive to a point she had the urge to run her hands over her arms to rid her of the effect he had on her.

He broke the tense, awkward silence. "Where do you think you are going?" He asks, his voice slightly raspy. Cristiano stared hungrily, daring her with his intense gaze.

Her heart was pounding and there was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't very well tell him she was planning to escape.

"Nowhere." She lied with a shrug, continuing to back into her bedroom.

Cristiano followed her and quickly closed the door and blocked it with his body, folding his arms over his chest, arching a fine dark brow and smirking at her.

They were alone. It was like he sucked up all the air in the room with his presence.

She narrowed her eyes, standing clear across the room needing distance from his impressive figure. Goosebumps raced up her spine, and she didn't know if it was him or the terrace door she kept open delivering cold air into the room.

"Now, I want the truth. What were you doing? Where were you going? It's nearly three in the morning."

Jasmine considered her next move carefully. She had only one option. Improvise.

"Fine, if you must know. I couldn't very well go out in my silky nightgown and robe to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, now can I?" She replies easily, sending a side glance to the robe and nightgown laying neatly over the edge of the bed. It was so terribly awkward as she struggled to remain calm.

The gown was left on the bed from much earlier before she grew the confidence to confront him and failed miserably.

Cristiano follows her glance and stares at the beautiful soft pink silk. Jasmine notices the way his nostrils flared slightly. The self-assured Cristiano seemed flustered. He met her eyes intensely for a moment, as though there was something profound he wanted to say.

"You look ready to go out." He remarked. "As if you were planning to. . ." He looked at her with pointed emphasis. ". . . Escape."

Jasmine's stomach squeezed. There was no way he would have known. He was calling her bluff. Well, two can play his game, she thought.

"I was planning to take a walk in the gardens to clear my mind. No thanks to you and your female guests, I'm unable to sleep!" Jasmine blurted.

Shit. She could have kicked herself at that moment. She was mortified, embarrassed and pissed. Jasmine's cheeks heated to an extent and she broke out in a sweat. He was like a spider hoping she'd wander into his web. And she did exactly that.

A self-satisfied mocking smile flickered over his lips. "Ahhhh." His eyes filled with a sultry knowing glint.

She just gave him more leverage over her. Now, he would probably keep tormenting her and make her nights of misery last long into the mornings. The power was in his hands and he would take on any opportunity to dominate and control her which she knew none of it had her well-being in mind. But she had to say something he would believe. It was the only way to sway his suspicious thoughts of her escaping.

His gloating look proved her original thoughts and falling right into a trap no thanks to her little slip-up. He had planned to make her life a living hell all along and for that she was hell bent on giving him hell back. Trying to find a way to escape him would be like a punch to his stupid male pride.

"Female guests. Is that the proper term everyone uses these days or is it only you?"

Damn him.

She glared at him with a look that clearly said fück you.

"I can't stand the sigh of you! Get out!" She nearly shouted pointing a finger to the bedroom door. If she wasn't clear of any objects in her reach, she would have thrown something at him.

His expression turned dark, even murderous. "I will go nowhere. This is my home. You are in no position to demand nor order anything, do you understand?"

With a little cry, Jasmine leapt towards him. She pounded his bare chest with all the strength she had in her body. "You bastard!"

He didn't move, or try to protect himself as her weak attempts slowed. She was so tired, so weak, Jasmine could barely stand.

"Damn you, how selfish can you be?" She screamed in his face.

He looked at her. "You already know the answer to that."

Turning on her heel, she started to walk to the door. He grabbed her wrist, turning to face him. "Where do you think you're going?" His hand tightens on her wrist as he looked down at her.

"Away from you!" She tried to pull away but he wrapped her in his arms, bringing her tight against his hard body. For a moment, the only sound was the pant of her breath. "I hate you, do you understand that? I loath the sight of your sick face. I hate everything you represent. I'm leaving and I don't care if I die trying!"

She pushed away from him but he came up behind her scooping her up with a growl. "You will go nowhere. You're mine during your temporary stay."

She struggled in his arms, shaking her head wildly. "Let me go! You can't keep me prisoner here!" It was impossible to pull her wrists out of his implacable grip. Tears filled her eyes. "I'll find a way, there's no way you can keep me here against my will forever."

His jaw flexed in the barest of movements. "You appear to have a hard time understanding your position here."

Abruptly he releases her. Her legs nearly gave out in that second, but by sheer will she stayed upright, rubbed her wrists in relief and turned away from him. The moisture of her tears escaped the sides of her eyes and she hastily wiped them away with end of her sleeve. Days worth of exhaustion was finally taking its toll on her body and mind. In all honesty she didn't know if she would have made if very far with her escape effort. She was so incredibly tired, she practically swayed where she stood.

Cristiano's eyes narrowed. "What is wrong with you?"

She felt like the floor was titling. Her senses were clouded and confused. She ran a hand down her face and shook her head to try to rid herself of her sudden tiredness.

"Sit down at once." He commanded.

"I won't stand for being bossed around by you!" She shouted and instantly winced at the dull pounding in her head from her outburst.

He sucked in a low breath. "If you do not do as I say and go lie down, then I shall pick you up and carry you there myself!" He warned, his fists clenching at his sides.

She never noticed the way his gaze absorbed everything–her skin was paler than normal and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. That glow from within her was absent, her eyes were dull, with none of their customary inner fire.

When she made no attempt to answer him, struggling to stay upright and walking slowly to the nearest chair, she found Cristiano by her side. Without warning he bent and scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

"What the hell are you doing?" She demanded slowly. Her speech sounded slurred to her ears as her eyes closed against the pounding of his heart. Her head was so incredibly heavy, she could scarcely move and push against him.

"Be quiet and hold still. You were about to faint." He murmured.

She could feel the enormous strength in Cristiano's arms, shoulders and chest. His movements were slow, careful and balanced as he held her as if she weighed no more than a feather. Jasmine could do nothing but sag her tense body and allow herself to relax. She was so weak her limbs felt like they weighed a ton.

She felt like a fool. This is not what she had planned out in her mind. But then again, she never really planned at all. Her decision was made on a whim. Maybe she should have waited and thought out before attempting her petty escape. She didn't realize she was so burnt out.

Cristiano carries her to the bed and slowly lowers her on the mattress, keeping his arms wrapped under her knees and back. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and for some odd reasons she didn't want to let go. His left forearm pillowed her head, and felt his right hand wander over her thigh possessively. She did not realize she was holding her breath as he trailed his fingers up her thigh to rest to the side of her waist.

Never had she dreamed a man's touch could be so incredibly warm, so tender.

She took a deep breath, which did the opposite of calming her. Because she accidentally drew in his scent. He smelled as a man should and it made her shiver. She was losing her mind. What on earth was she doing thinking such thoughts like that!

She would be stupid not to admit she still found him mildly attractive. She had been attracted to him since the moment they met.

Every recess of her body came alive by his smoldering gaze. Despite what he's done, she couldn't muster the strength to deny she didn't mind his attention. Any simple touch he made towards her way sizzled her skin with heat. Her attraction to him was deadly, sick and twisted. She couldn't understand it.

She loathed herself for it.

Gathering her composure, she turned her head and gazed up into his dark eyes, so full of gentle concern she frowned and was slightly surprised. He cleared his throat and glanced away, sensing him stiffen as he retracted his hands from her body. She had never expected in a thousand years Cristiano would look at her with gentle worried eyes.

Was she imaging it?

He adjusted to his full height, looking down at her.

"Do you need a physician?"

Jasmine laid her head back and closed her eyes, her body breaking out in a sweat. Her head was pounding and her breaths were coming out quickly. She didn't know what was happening to her, clutching at her head as she moaned. Her head was pounding as fast as a galloping horse. The true extent of her exhaustion happened to appear in time for him to see. She was mortified. Hating he was witnessing her weakness.

"I don't feel well." She admitted, curling on her side in a fetal position. "Leave me alone, I'll be fine once you're gone." Jasmine closed her eyes again and tried concentrating on inhaling and exhaling deeply through her nose. No matter how much she fought, her eyelids would not flutter open. She could still feel him watching her as her eyes gave up their will and completely sealed shut. Before she knew it, she succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

Cristiano looked down at her. He reached a hand out or wake her, then stopped. He looked down at the grey shadows beneath her eyes.

No. Let her sleep.

His infuriating little captive. Fighting him on every word. Stubbornly refusing to listen to him simply because he had been the one to order it. She looked so young, sleeping. So beautiful.

His jaw set.

Something twisted in Cristiano's chest.