Page 40 of Lamb

Her slice struggled to fit on the fork as she worked at the edge of the bread. But she didn’t stop, nor did she hesitate as she slipped the small piece into her mouth.

I could see it was uncomfortable for her. Saw that the food probably tasted like cardboard as she worked to chew and swallow a piece that did not need as much effort as she was giving it. It was no testament to my cooking—I knew for a fact they’d be the best eggs in the town—but it reflected her harsh lifestyle and the poor conditions her body had become accustomed to.

As I watched her throat bob, some of that uncomfortable feeling in my chest shifted, untangling the tension and allowing me to relax as she ate each small morsel.

Escaping strands of hair slipped over her neck as she worked tediously on her food, the occasional glance flittering my way. I didn’t let myself slip up and kept my expression neutral each time I caught her eye. Anna’s misunderstanding came to mind,though I wasn’t sure I could call it a misunderstanding much longer.

I watched Ash cautiously eat tidbits of food, giving me flickering glances, resembling a small, feral kitten scooped up from the streets. Comfort and care were unknown and unfamiliar to her. In a world that had fought her every moment since birth, all she had learned to do was fear those around her and fight anything that came her way. Nothing was good. Nobody was kind. Nowhere was safe. It had been a pitiful way to live, but it explained how she had become the way she was.

Ash reached up and tucked away the rogue strand of hair behind her ear, focusing solely on her food. I watched as it slipped down again, the long ribbon of brown warm against her lightly tanned skin.

Unable to stand it any longer, I moved around the island.

Focused solely on the challenge in front of her, Ash didn’t glance my way or acknowledge the sounds of my footsteps. It wasn’t until I slid my fingers over her shoulders that she realized my presence.

Her body snapped straight, her hands stiff as stone.

I hooked my fingers around the edges of her hair, dragging it back past her shoulders and down her arched back. Her skin was flushed, and a slight feverish warmth sent tingles through my fingertips as they just grazed the fine hairs running over her neck. Goosebumps prickled along the surface, and a tremor traveled throughout her as she fought the sensitive shiver.

I continued my motion, slipping my fingers beneath her hair, scooping the escaping strands, and sliding the elastic down my wrist until I could twist and wrap it around the collum of hair, taming it into a simple ponytail down the back of her neck.

I released the soft breath I’d been holding and took a step back, admiring my handiwork. It wasn’t much, but for someonewho’d never let my hair grow long enough to touch the back of my neck, it was perfect, even for a first try.

I saw the tension unwind in Ash’s shoulders, her fork lowering from her statue hold, and her chest sucking air back into her lungs. I stood still, a thought trickling into my mind as I stared at her familiar figure.

She’dallowedthis.

To have touched Ash had earned me a defensive strike or a rapid escape without fail. Each kiss I’d stolen had been rewarded with a growl, hiss, or a hasty retreat. Even when I had touched her hair previously, it had been only with permission. This mindless gesture, however, had surpassed all those conditions.

Heat spread across my chest and stimulated every nerve south. I grew rock-hard beneath my jeans and had to fight to suppress the purr wanting to erupt. Just the thought of Ash letting me take control, to submit to me even just this once, had such an emotional and physical impact that I wondered how I’d not noticed such a nature inside before.

I’d never cared for anything sexually exotic, other than satisfying my physical needs. There was no need to complicate an activity that served its purpose. Both my partner and I would come out satiated and drained, and that would be that.

This—whatever it was—had me ready to blast into my jeans just at the touch of her hair. I’d barely grazed her skin, and a fire was burning in me hotter than anything I’d ever felt.

I could see her, on her back, mewling my name, begging me for more. I’d take her, I’d ravish her, I’d show her everything that it meant to belong to me. I—

“Are you … allergic to color?” Ash’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I retreated as if I’d been scalded.

Ice doused my body as my brain kicked into gear, turning down whatever switch had been turned to max. Logic berated and banished the rampant thoughts, quelling the momentaryweakness of my desire. I knew full well if I fucked up here, my plan would be shredded to tatters without a second chance.

Whatever had come over me had been temporary. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

If Ash had noticed my actions, she pretended not to, her eyes skittishly scanning her surroundings. “I thought I had died when I saw it all.” She stared through narrow slits, eyes blinking rapidly in the face of the bright occlusive daylight.

I swept across the room, pulling loose the sheer curtains and dragging them closed. With each one, I took a breath, making sure the fire in my chest was smothered into nothing but cold, dead ashes before I turned back around.

Ash was tracing me now, her eyes open and clear as the curtains diffused the light into a more manageable strength for her sensitive sight. I looked around at my white surroundings before turning back to her, placing myself a few feet away. “What color would you like to see?” I sunk onto the arm of the couch, interlocking my fingers together as I looked back at her.

She still squinted, with her low visual ability and the lack of sunlight, as she skimmed across the room. “I do not know.” Ash shrugged, her knife and fork abandoned by the side of the plate, pressed neatly alongside each other. She’d maybe eaten half her food, but it looked like that would be all. It was the most I’d ever seen her eaten in one sitting, so I was more than willing to take the win.

“You don’t know colors?” I tilted my head to one side, enjoying a bitter sense of satisfaction as I watched her eyes roll into her skull with a disgruntled huff.

“I knowcolors,” she grunted. “But does it really matter which one you put in here? It just needs something so it is not all …blank.”

“How about you pick one?” I stood, reaching down to the white console table and pulling open a drawer underneath.

“A color?”

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