Page 49 of Savage

“I know. I just didn’t…” She bites her bottom lip, and I find myself wanting to take it between my teeth instead. She steels herself, nodding and straightening. She’s trembling, but it could be attributed to anxiety. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll manage.”

“Remember. Calm and composed,” I repeat. I wait another second, before tapping the app on my phone and turning the vibrations off. “Now sit on that stool, hands on your knees, legs apart, while I get ready myself.”

She blanches, but she slowly does as I tell her—about as much disobedience as I’ll accept with her delay. She sits down on the stool and puts her hands on her knees, spreading her legs and giving me another pleading look.

I ignore her while I get changed for the event. I head to the bathroom to wash my face, shave, style my hair, and apply cologne. If I showed up in any state but absolutely impeccable, I’d never hear the end of it.

I don’t particularly care about my mother’s opinion of me, but I don’t want to listen to her lectures. Besides, I wouldn’t want to appear in public in a disheveled state either.

When I return, I check Stef’s posture. “You’re slumping,” I say sharply. “Back straight, chin up.”

She immediately does as she’s told, sitting up straighter and averting her eyes. She doesn’t even try to speak, which pleases me. No backtalk, no excuses—simply obedience.

“Good. Now, let’s get your make-up done, and we’ll head straight to the fundraiser after that.” I extend a hand to her, and she takes it immediately. When she’s standing in front of me, I say, “If I see you squirming or fidgeting, I will turn the vibrator on. Understood?”

Relief floods her expression, and Stef nods quickly. “Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”

“Good girl,” I say, and I kiss her forehead as a reward.

She blinks, looking startled as she looks up at me, but she offers a shy, seemingly sincere-looking smile.

This evening might not be as tedious as I feared.

CHAPTER 13

Stef

I’ve never been anywhere as fancy as this before, and I can’t help but gape, awestruck. Someone like me couldn’t even pay to work there, let alone accompany a prominent doctor with a sadistic streak to a fundraising event.

But here I am.

I clutch Hunter’s arm when he slides it into mine, chanting don’t squirm, don’t squirm over and over in my mind as I try to keep my posture as perfect as I can. I feel like I need to do the thing they do in old-fashioned movies and practice walking with a book on my head to get used to this.

Maybe it’s something I’ll try, if he ever decides to let me out again.

I glance at him, anxious for some sign that I’m doing at least a satisfactory job of holding it together.

Hunter doesn’t even look at me as he leads me through the crowds. It looks like we’re heading toward the open bar until somebody says, “Hunter! Finally!”

Hunter stops and turns towards the voice. “Bethany. Hello.”

The woman who greeted him is beautiful, with long, dark hair styled into waves. She has very familiar icy blue eyes. Her outfit is gorgeous too, although not anywhere near as tight as mine.

She must be Hunter’s sister.

“Mother isn’t here yet,” Bethany says. “But Jacob and Holly are. Do not mention the summer house, by the way. Holly is on a rampage, and she is very certain Grandmother is slighting them on purpose by not having died yet.”

I swallow hard, stunned by her words. Do people actually talk like this in the real world? I glance again at Hunter—who ignores me again—and concentrate on staying still even though I’m constantly aware of the toy inside of me.

“Even if Grandmother died, she wouldn’t leave the house to Jacob,” Hunter says. “And what does Holly need it for? Don’t her parents have that lake house in Maine?”

Bethany laughs a little cruelly. “Yes, but apparently Holly’s sister has been crashing there, on account of that whole alcoholic bender she’s been on, and… see, you miss all the gossip when you skip the family events. Speaking of.” Bethany’s gaze suddenly lands squarely on me. “Who is this?”

I don’t like the attention on me. This petty, arrogant woman belongs to another world, and in that world, people like me are servants—or less. I happen to be much, much less, but I’m not going to say as much.

Still, I don’t introduce myself, instead looking to Hunter. I have a feeling he’ll like the deference, and it suits us both for me to please him.

“This is Stefanie,” Hunter says. “My date for the evening.”

---