Page 8 of Savage Game
Fake it until you make it, right?
He gave her a barely noticeable nod of his head in greeting without a word. Only the sound of the antique clock broke the morning quiet as it announced the arrival of eight o’clock.
Mr. Nolan shut down the tablet and placed the device on his left side. Charlotte hurried forward to set his breakfast and a fresh cappuccino in front of him.
“Kittycat,” he drawled, “perhaps I wasn’t clear in my explanation, but I want to eat my breakfast at eight sharp, not have it served when the clock has already begun to chime.”
“Oh, okay.”
His face clouded and she almost took a step back but refrained.
“We’ll discuss the correct way of addressing me later today. Right now, I’m late and we need to eat.” He held out a hand in invitation.
We? She blinked. “I-I didn’t bring f-food for m-myself,” she stuttered, afraid she’d messed up more. Her throat ached and her eyes started to burn.
He let out the now familiar hum of disapproval. “Come now, you’ve done so well until now. You’re not going to start with the waterworks, right?”
He didn’t sound mean as he said it, more like he was teasing. She peeked up at him. His eyes softened again. He gave her a firm nod.
“Better.” He held up a finger, took a bite of the scrambled eggs, and hummed.
A good kind of hum. Her shoulders relaxed.
“Well seasoned and excellently cooked. Very nice.”
She inclined her head, not trusting her voice since her throat still felt raw with emotion.
“You may kneel beside me and take food from my hand.”
What?
Involuntarily, she took a step back and a half-turn toward the kitchen. “I-I can fetch a plate really quick from the kitchen, Mr. Nolan. I didn’t realize you wanted to eat with me.” She fidgeted with her apron.
He rested his forearm on the table and ducked his chin until their eyes met. “You did exactly what I told you to do. I prefer to feed you myself. Now come here.”
His voice hardened and she stood beside him before her brain gave her legs a conscious order to move.
“I’m a tolerant master, but the food is getting cold and I’m running behind on my schedule.” He nodded once at the pillow beside his chair. “Kneel.”
Swallowing hard, she kept her eyes lowered and did her best to go down on her knees gracefully. The pillow was comfortable, and she tried to kneel in one of the kneeling positions she remembered from the pamphlet.
“Very good. Right now, I want you in the resting position, do you remember the pose?”
Resting his hands on the armrests of his chair, Byron watched his little kitten settle into a more comfortable position. He wasn’t about to punish her for her tardiness. Her entire body screamed tension and fear, and he wanted her soft, pliable, and obeying of her own accord.
Oh, he would punish her, she had too much fire and rebellion in her not to challenge him at some point this month, but right now she needed consistency, comfort, and safety from him.
He took a sip of his coffee and enjoyed the mix of soft frothy milk and the dark, slightly bitter espresso. If nothing else, he would enjoy her efforts in the kitchen, but he wanted more, wanted all from her. At the moment, however, her fear and suspicion overrode her will to submit to him with her body, mind and soul. Nevertheless, her obedience pleased him.
Although she was too skinny for his taste, she looked mighty fine in the costume he bought for her, and it satisfied him more than he expected to see her in his clothes and not something paid for by the bastard.
Charlotte hadn’t moved from the Relax pose, but she was anything but relaxed. Having a submissive alert on her Master was a good thing, but Charlotte wasn’t concentrating on him. Even with her face cast down, he could almost see the gears in her mind turning with all kinds of scenarios. None of those would come close to the truth, and all of them would be featuring him as a villain, ergo none of those pictures running through her mind were acceptable to him.
Picking up his knife, he buttered a small piece of toast and tried to figure out the best approach. She tempted him to lay her out on the table and feast on her pussy until she screamed, but he refrained. Although orgasms were a sure-fire way to break down a woman’s walls and shut down her head, right now was too early for anything overtly sexual.
Instead, he held the buttered toast to her mouth and clamped his lips together against a smile when her startled glance shot up to his face. It took a few heartbeats before she accepted the morsel. His, “Good girl,” caused a cute frown to appear between her brows.
Does she realize how much I enjoy hand-feeding a submissive?
