Page 29 of Sticks and Stones and Broken Bones

“When?”

“When she was in the grips of hunger. I don’t know who it was, but I think it helped her.”

Rook stroked his fingers through my hair. “Who could it be?”

“No idea. Not sure she should trust it, though. Nothing good comes of talking to voices.”

“And then there’s the giant raven. What the hell is that about?”

I hummed in response, my fingers stroking the warm skin of his forearms. “I think whatever is going on with her is more than Necromancy.”

“That would make sense, but what are we going to do?”

“I think we just need to be cautious. Patient.”

Rook groaned and it made me chuckle. He was never one for being patient. “The answers will present themselves when they are ready to be understood.”

“I hate it when you talk in riddles,” he said with a purse of his lips.

“Baby boy, don’t lie to me.”

“Sorry,” he grumbled.

I turned around and brought my hands up to his throat. His body instantly relaxed in my hold, his years of training instantly turning him to putty in my hands.

I put a touch of pressure on the soft spot beneath his ear and heard his breath hitch.

“Apologise like you mean it.”

He swallowed and I felt the movement against the palm of my hand.

“I’m sorry, Master. Please forgive me.”

I hummed in acceptance of his apology. “Run me a shower, baby boy. Then you can clean me.”

“Can I join you?”

“No.”

“But—”

I squeezed his throat tighter, cutting off his words. “No buts. You shouldn’t have laughed and then doubted me. Now you will be punished for it.”

“Yes, Master.” He bowed his head as he pulled away and went to turn on the shower, sulking with every step he took.

I couldn’t help but smile. He was so predictable sometimes that I didn’t even need my foresight to see how he’d react. I followed him into the bathroom and felt the heat of the steam brush against my face.

I stopped in front of the shower. “Take off my clothes.”

His hands moved swiftly over my body, almost with a clinical touch, as he removed my clothes. He was doing so well at not letting his touch linger and my cock was taking notice.

I stepped into the shower and let the hot water run down my skin. I could feel the heat of Rook’s eyes trail the water over my torso, down the curve of my hip, the length of my erect cock. It was a heady feeling having him in my power like this. Knowing that he wanted to touch me but was restraining himself just because I told him to.

“Roll up your sleeves and wash me, Rook.”

I heard the swish of the material as he pushed his sleeves up his arms, a break in the fall of the water as he moved closer, then felt the soft touch of his fingers as he brushed the soap against my skin. He was methodical in task, slow and steady, and I could sense the restraint in his muscles as he stopped himself from doing what he really wanted to.

He cleaned me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, washing away the dried cum on abs. There wasn’t an inch of me that he left untouched.

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