Page 19 of The Puppetmaster

“No job?” he interrupts me, raising an eyebrow. “What happened there?”

I’m a little stunned by the way he phrases that question. That is pretty much the exact same reaction Melina had when I told her, but she knows me. She knew that I had a job I was passionate about, a job that I was hoping would lead somewhere and that I worked hard at. When she heard I no longer had that job, it was only natural for her to fear that something awful must have happened.

But him? The way he asks that question suggests that he knows me well enough to be equally aware.

“I quit,” I tell him.

“You quit?” he repeats, evident surprise filling his face. “When?”

“J-Just a few days ago,” I stammer, unsure what to make of his reaction.

“I see,” he growls, displaying an expression that I can’t quite place. It’s not surprise, but rather it resembles anger or irritation. Shouldn’t he be glad that I’m jobless and void of obligations?

Or does he think I did this on purpose? Does he think I am one of those girls who want to win his heart over so they can mooch off of him for the rest of their lives?

“I don’t need any money,” I hurry to add. “I have savings and can get by on my own. It’s not like I—”

“I know that,” he interjects angrily.

“I’m just saying, I’m not a gold digger—”

“I didn’t say you were, did I? Don’t insult me, Alena,” he retorts harshly.

“I’m sorry.”

Why do I feel like I keep fucking this up? While he does seem interested in me, I hear his praises just as much as I sense his anger. He can’t possibly want a puppet who annoys him this much?

“What matters is that you’re free to be mine for as long as I see fit.”

I clear my throat, trying my best at a conciliatory expression when I ask, “And how long will that be, sir?”

“Until I get tired of you,” he shoots back, his face stern and blank of emotion.

His rough response feels like a blow to my chest, but I cast the feeling aside. I can’t let him get to me like this. He’s just as honest with me as he wants me to be with him. That’s a privilege I want to appreciate instead of begrudge every time he says something that doesn’t sit well with me.

He leans down closer to me, his face so close to mine that our noses are almost touching. I inhale a deep breath to take in his smell, musky and pleasant, with a hint of unexpected sweetness.

I’m drawn to him, but when I lean forward, threatening to close the tiny gap remaining between us, he retreats in a sudden motion, as if I were poisonous.

Our eyes meet and I want to believe that he shares my sentiment. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t want to act on it.

If you want something, you’ll have to take it.

I start shifting on my knees, grimacing as I reposition myself. I make sure that I’m moving closer to him, so close that my thighs are almost touching his legs as I return to my slave position.

“Did I give you permission to move?” he hisses.

“I’m sorry,” I pipe, casting him a coy smile. “My legs were falling asleep.”

A furrow appears between his eyebrows then, and the menacing disapproval on his face makes my heart speed up.

“Don’t test me, Alena,” he growls. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Yeah?” I respond coyly, winking at him. “Are you going to punish me?”

I jolt back in surprise when he leaps up from where he has been sitting on the side of the bed. He towers over me, the tips of his shoes pushing against my inner thighs when he takes a step forward, forcing me to lean back at a steep angle so I can still his face.

“Get the fuck up!” he barks at me, his voice so deep and loud that it makes my entire body tremble. “Now!”

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