Page 50 of A Debt of Darkness

I still and Henry pulls my hair to one side, placing a slow, deliberate kiss between my shoulder blades. It isn't horrible. It's rather nice. Not that I like it. Or him. Or his attention.

“Did you sleep well?”

I nod and his arm wraps around me. He's naked. I'm naked. Our bodies meet and it's unexpected. It's new. Dear lord, it's exciting and nice. It's the word that keeps coming to mind, and I loathe it. It's too much, not enough and it's true.

“Yes.”

He grunts softly. “It’s yes, thankyou, Master.”

I try to laugh my way out of something I don't want to do. Henry rolls me around to face him and he's amused, but more by me than with me.

“As adorable as that is, I'm afraid it won't work with me, lea.”

He lands a gentle smack on my ass and my mouth falls open. It's not enough to sting, but it reminds me of the hard, painful spanks he delivered when he carried me out of the woods. He arches his eyebrow, expectantly.

The asshole knows exactly what he's doing and it isn't fair. It isn't reasonable—and the threat of a spanking is exciting my clit.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Close enough,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Get dressed.”

I pull my clothes on and notice they're new. Comfortable sweats that are soft and not too tight. He's much faster and emerges from the bathroom looking immaculate in his pale blue shirt and jeans.

He sits and calls me over, and I notice the cushions lying on the floor. Henry points and I hesitate, darting my eyes between the floor and the pastry on the plate next to him.

“I’m not hungry.”

It isn’t a lie. I’ve never been a fan of breakfast and the week of starvation hasn’t improved my appetite. The sticky pastry looks mildly appealing, but it might be too sweet and my stomach isn’t entirely convinced it’s ready for something this rich.

Henry tears a piece off and tilts his head. “It’s late and I’ve already had breakfast. You haven’t eaten properly this week. You need to regain your strength and I don’t like my pets looking unhealthy.”

My stomach tightens and I tense. My heart races and bile catches in the back of my throat. This isn’t rage. It’s jealousy. I’m fucking jealous because he’s mentioned others. Other pets. It’s horrific, but the thought Henry has someone else cuts to my core and the implications are far from straightforward.

I grumble as I lower myself and he graciously ignores the mortified expression on my face or attributes it to what I’m doing and not what I’m feeling. Jealousy means I’m attached. It means I care. It means I’m falling for him.

“Open, lea.”

My lips part and he places the food on the tip of my tongue, smiling as I moan and enjoy the raspberry croissant. It’s sticky but not too sweet and Henry waits until I’m ready before offering me another piece.

We repeat the same game as last night. He offers food and I open my mouth, accepting it. He praises me and I enjoy it. Henry smiles and takes pleasure from whatever this is. We find our balance and he pulls us out of it, making it harder and I work to bring the equilibrium back.

I finish the pastry and he holds his fingers out. They’re smeared with raspberry syrup and icing sugar. I wasn’t sure this was sexual until now, but I’m damn sure it is as I stare at the fingers he expects me to lick. My breathing quickens and the uncomfortable throbbing between my legs becomes unbearable.

Fuck, this is weird.

“You’re okay, lea. I’m excited too. Don’t overthink this.”

My eyes lock onto the red goo painting his fingers. It’s tempting, so damn tempting, and maybe this could be alright. My arousal screams I’m insane for even thinking about this and I’m pretty sure I’m getting wetter by the second.

“Would you like to lick Master’s fingers clean?”

Holy fuck.

A small noise escapes my lips and I’ve never made a sound like it. It’s a complete surrender and a frantic plead for anything he’ll give me. Fucking hell, I’m panting and practically drooling for the cold-hearted, unreasonable, attentive man and I’d roll over and give him anything he asks for right now.

I nod. Not once. Enthusiastically. Repeatedly.

“Please, Master.”

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