He hissed when the man lifted his leg to wrap a strip of cloth around the wound. “Are you sure you’re not related to the Marquis de Sade?”
A man chuckled and shook his head. “You are quick witted, Gor-de-san. I’m not some dead Frenchman, but am Amuro Eri. You may call me Eri.” He raised a brow as he tightened the wrap. “I would think you would have more important things to worry about than if I like to torment my sekusu no dorei.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jacob gritted his teeth as his leg returned to its original position.
“Sekusu no dorei?” Eri dropped the blood-soaked cloth into a small silver bowl at his side. “It means…” Eri ran his gaze over every bare inch of Jacob’s skin before his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “…how do you say one enslaved by sex?”
Despite his discomfort, Jacob felt the familiar clench in his stomach. It was a familiar prelude. Next his cock would get hard. Ah hell, I can’t do this. It’s one thing to get hard because he’s a man, but quite another if he’s a Jap. Trying to ignore his stirring libido, he focused on what Eri had just said. When he spoke his voice croaked. He cleared his throat before trying again. “You mean a sex slave?”
Ari smiled. “Ah, yes. That’s it. I’ll keep my nefarious plans to myself until you’ve healed. It’s no fun to torment an injured man, Gor-de-san.”