Page 9 of Savage Game
He raked his gaze over her tense arms and shoulders.
I guess not.
Forking some egg, he took a bite for himself and swallowed it down with another sip of coffee. He fed her more toast, then frowned at his hand, and kept it in front of her face. “There’s some butter on my fingers. Clean them.”
“Um.” Her eyes flittered to the napkin on the table.
He didn’t pull his hand away. “Use your tongue.”
Again, her eyes met his. This time her expression was almost pleading, and again, he had to fight a grin. Instead, he tried to give her a blank and unwavering stare.
The lines beside her eyes became more pronounced, but she leaned forward dutifully and engulfed his fingers with her mouth. Awareness shot straight to his dick, and he was thankful the table concealed his carnal reaction to her.
Too soon for his liking, she released him from the warm wetness of her mouth and tried to lower her gaze.
“No. I want your eyes on me during meals.”
She jerked like she’d placed her finger in a socket, but obediently tipped her head back.
“Better.” He allowed a smile to curve his lips for the first time and almost immediately her expression lost some of its anxiety. She was fucking appealing, and again, he wondered if one month would be enough for him. In winning her from her husband he’d endeavored to take the uncaring, arrogant prick down a notch, but instead, he got himself a little kitten who brought out every caveman instinct he possessed.
Definitely a total mindfuck, but not one he lamented. Keeping her beside him, he finished their breakfast, making sure to maintain eye contact and keeping his touches frequent, but non-threatening.
“Thank you, Kittycat, that was a lovely meal.” Her shoulders lowered and he could almost hear the sigh of relief she tried to hold back. Instead, her breathing stayed even and steady, the swells of her breasts moving in a calm rhythm. He admired her control, but he was alpha male enough to view her self-possession as a challenge as well.
What will it take to have her screaming and writhing under me?
Byron forced his attention back to the tasks at hand. He had several businesses to run and contracts and propositions to review.
For years Byron had been driven by gaining power, control, and money. After so many years of chasing the American Dream, he’d achieved everything he wanted, and everything became predictable and boring. He enjoyed the challenge and still derived a thrill from business deals, but nothing sparked his interest for long. And for women… he felt… numb.
At least, he had been until this little kitten walked into their poker game. It wasn’t that she was model gorgeous, although she was quite lovely. Something in her demeanor appealed to him on a baser level, and he knew he needed to have her. Right now she was his, and he had a month to own every single part of her.
Byron realized he’d been quiet for a long time as she shifted restlessly, and he cleared his throat. “Clean up breakfast and meet me in my office. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do.”
“I-I could do some cleaning,” she offered with a soft voice and downcast eyes.
He looked right through her ploy to distance herself from him. “You could, but I want you near me. How long will your clean-up take?”
“Um. Twenty minutes?”
“Make it fifteen.” He turned his wrist and glanced at his watch. “You have until nine-twenty to get your ass in my office and kneel beside me. Not a second later, or you’ll forfeit your rights on clothes.”
“What?”
Clear indignation rang through the one word, and he grinned. “You heard me. If you don’t obey my orders, you lose your clothes.”
She swallowed and rose to her feet. “I’ll be on time, Sir.”
Fuck me.
The “Sir” from her lips stirred the beast inside as well as his libido. The sight of her slender legs peeking from under her short skirt shot right to his groin. His cock blossomed into a thick, throbbing turgid rod. Imagining himself pushing her skirt up and bending her over the breakfast table didn’t help the matter either, and he took a few long inhalations to calm down.
3
Day Three
Just like yesterday, Charlotte followed Mr. Nolan into his study after cleaning up breakfast. Again, he’d left her alone at night, and his actions during the day didn’t make any sense to her. His threat to strip her of her clothes didn’t leave her mind, and she’d followed his orders like an obedient little puppy for the entire day. Wiping her wet hands on her skirt, she knocked on the door and waited by his private office.
