Page 79 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

“You should do that,” I say, hearing my depressed tone and unable to hide it.

“You don’t have to stay up here watching other people get off, you know?” he asks. “You could pop some popcorn, watch a movie. Read a book. Take a walk and look for empty buildings.”

“Lock a woman in a cage and make her purr.”

Christian’s gaze narrows. “I guess so.”

“You’re right,” I say. “I have plenty of options. I’d like to see to it that you’re fed and clean, but if you’re ready to go, I can’t stop you.”

“Clean how?”

“There’s a fully functioning bathroom behind that door,” I say tipping my chin over my shoulder.

He stares suspiciously at the door. “No thanks. I’ll take a shower when I get downstairs.”

I hand him the bottle of arnica gel. “Take this and put it over anything especially raw. It’ll make it feel better.”

He examines the bottle, turning it over to read the directions and ingredients. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He sits up, wincing again. “Yep.”

I get out of bed, picking my shirt up from the floor and shrugging it on. “If you need me, text me.”

“Need you for what?” he asks, a faint note of mischief in his voice.

“If you start to feel depressed or off or anything.”

“Do you think I will?”

“I don’t know, Christian,” I snap, which I immediately regret. Gentler, I add, “But if you do, know I’m here, and I’d prefer you reached out rather than not.”

“Okay,” he says, more contrite as well. “Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to change,” I say once I’m buttoned up and my shoes are on.

“Gibson?”

I turn to face him as he sits on the edge of the bed, still half covered by the sheet.

“Thank you for tonight. It felt—important.”

I suck in a breath, but it’s like trying to breathe through a straw. We had sex. I fucked him. I came inside him, and it was one of the most intense orgasms of my life. His hole was so tight it was like having my cock in a vise. It hurt. Perhaps not as badly as the flogging I gave him, or the way I stretched him, but I’d entered a certain pleasure/pain state, too, and I for one, could use a bottle of water and a snack. A hug wouldn’t kill me, either.

“I’m glad,” I say, trying not to show too many of my thoughts on my face.

He nods and averts his gaze. I take what feels like might be my only opportunity, while I have any self-control left, and leave him alone to change and leave, but instead of going into the club, I take the hidden stairwell back to my own penthouse, hoping a hot shower will make up for what I feel like I’m losing.

Christian is havingtrouble finding a comfortable way to sit. He’s long since moved from the chair to the sofa where he’s canted onto his hip, his laptop balanced precariously on one leg and his phone at his side.

I could stare at him constantly—just the way his hair is falling this morning is enough to hypnotize me, but I’ve got lunch with Senator Lawther to mentally prepare for.

I’m not sure if I’m lucky he’s in town, or intensely unlucky. Marianne made her delight—and her expectations—clear again this morning over breakfast.

This isn’t my first foray into blackmail, but it will be the first time I’ve ever wielded the leverage and not hinted at it—and it’ll certainly be the first time I ever used the information I have against a high level government official. I’m not looking forward to it, nor do I have any illusions it won’t backfire horribly onto me.

And not in any way I can plan for or defend. Do I have a lot of information about very powerful people? Yes. Might he also? Almost definitely yes. This is a huge risk, and one I’m not thrilled to take.

---