Page 49 of Training His Pet

This wasn’t fear though.

Fear had a specific scent.

He’d seen it, smelled it on grown men. He knew what real fear looked like. She was still fighting herself. Fighting her desires.

The click of the lead onto the collar snapped her out of her silence.

“What are you doing?” She pulled back, but he wrapped the leash around his hand until there was a short lead.

“Taking you out.” He stepped toward the door and clicked his tongue. “Let’s go, sweet girl.”

“Dax—”

“If you have an accident you’ll be in trouble,” he warned her.

“I can’t—you don’t mean to actually go outside,” she said with her first step when he tugged the leash gently.

“Follow, sweet girl.” He tugged again gently, coaxing her to his side.

Questions danced in her eyes, but she kept them to herself and crawled up to him, letting him lead her from the room and down the hall. He pushed the door to the bathroom open.

“Heel,” he commanded again and waited for her to get back into the proper position. “Good girl.” He reached down and unhooked the leash. “Go on.”

Her eyes flickered from him to the opened door.

“I’m gonna get breakfast going. There’s towels and soap for you to use. But when you’re done, wait for me in the doorway like this.” He brushed a hair from her face.

“Okay.” She blinked. “Thank you.”

He chuckled. “Don’t thank me yet, sweet girl. Inside bathroom breaks are a privilege. Misbehave and you’ll be squatting next to a tree.”

She crawled into the bathroom without any prompting.

“The collar?” Her fingertips touched the leather wrap.

“You can remove it for your shower but put it back on when you’re done.”

Her lips twitched.

He cupped her face in his hand and ran his thumb over her plump lips. He wouldn’t last the day without having them wrapped around his cock.

“Willingness and obedience, sweet girl.”

She blinked. “I know.”

“Call me when you’re done,” he instructed and left her. The door softly clicked behind him as he walked away.

He reached into his jeans and adjusted his hard cock. Just the small touch of his hand gave him an ounce of release, only to have to turn into a burning rage of desire when he pictured Erika’s hand wrapped around his shaft.

Busying himself with breakfast, he scrambled some eggs and popped a few pieces of bread into the toaster. Erika’s mind never seemed to stop working; she was always looking for a story, a detail that would tie everything together for her. He needed to stop those thoughts from getting away from her. There was nothing she could do while they were up in the cabin, except focus on her. She would learn a lot about herself and she’d have a good story—whether it was one she wanted to actually publish or not would be her decision. His goal was only to turn her attention away from the danger.

The pipes squeaked when the shower turned off and he flipped off the stove. Eggs were ready, toast buttered; he just needed to plate everything.

His eye wandered to the pet bowls she’d picked out. They sat on the countertop next to the sink.

The bathroom door opened.

“Dax? Uh, I’m done.” Her soft voice carried into the kitchen.

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