Page 10 of Absolution

The deed he implied might just be the most demeaning one he’d commanded so far. Being his footrest was one thing, but to actually eat from the ground was something else altogether.

So, why does the thought turn me on so much?

There was no hiding the way her eager buds knotted at the prospect, now her robe had been discarded, and while he might not have noticed, there was no denying the arousal pooling between her thighs.

“You’ll eat from the plate on the floor,” he confirmed. “But if you keep this inquisition up, we’ll ditch the plate for future meals, and I’ll get you a pet bowl instead.”

Flustered, she nearly dropped a fork as she moved his cutlery into position. “What about my knife and fork, sir?” Her gaze darted to between her feet. “Should I put those on the floor, too?”

“No.” His laughter was knowing. “You won’t need those.”

What?She made sure the word didn’t escape that time.

“How do I eat without them, sir?” Her breaths sped up as she tried to fathom his meaning. She’d eat from the floor ifshe must, but scrambled eggs and fingers were not the finest bedfellows.

“You’ll eat the same way you tend to my cock every morning.” He pushed his coffee cup away. “With your mouth open and your hands behind your back.”

Reaching for the nearest chair, Ella sensed the blood drain from her face.

Chapter Four

Ordeal by Breakfast

Tucker

Tucker had read once about medieval societies where convicted criminals were punished by various kinds of ridiculous ordeals. The one that always stuck in his mind wasordeal by cake, which seemed like the most preposterous penalty imaginable. How could anyone be chastened with cake? Yet somehow, it had been the genesis of that particular punishment. Staring into Ella’s aghast eyes at that moment, though, he realized his premise had been wrong. ‘Ordeal by cake’ was no longer the most bizarre. It had been overthrown by the penalty he was introducing—ordeal by breakfast.

Muffling his growing delight, he beckoned her toward him.

“Come on, little girl,” he chided. “The eggs will get cold.”

“Right.” As though his words had snapped her back to reality, she dashed back to the stove to tend to the breakfast. “On it, sir.”

Her hurried pace created a wonderful resonance that traveled over her breasts and ass, entertaining him as he watched her conclude the preparations.

“How are things?” he asked, watching her return the eggs to the heat and check the toast.

It was interesting to watch his little girl at work for a change. So far, during their time together, it had always been him laboring for her, either because he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t flee or because she didn’t seem capable of completing tasks like chopping wood or navigating through the forest. It meant this new version of Ella—the woman willing to not only submit to him but take on the challenges he presented her with—was even more stimulating to behold.

“Nearly ready, sir.”

She heaped scrambled eggs onto the toasted, buttered bread in the middle of one of the plates and lifted the ensemble for his approval. She seemed proud of her effort as she carried the meal to his place at the table.

“Smells good, little girl.” He patted her pert behind as he followed behind her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Placing the plate down, she wrung her hands out in front of her. “It’s good to cook for you, sir. I’ve never got to before.”

“I was just thinking the same.” He threw her a wink as he took his seat at the table.

“Well…” She pulled in a breath. “Please, tuck in.”

He sliced into his toast, watching her rush back to the stove. All things considered, she seemed to be taking the news of her impending rebuke quite well. Her initial shock apparently over, she seemed reasonably assured as she piled the remaining egg onto the second plate.

“Where’s your toast, little girl?” He noticed the way she’d not placed the final toasted slice of bread alongside her scrambled eggs.

“Oh, I don’t need toast, sir.” Her voice was airy as she turned back to respond to him. “I’m happy with only the egg.”

“I don’t think so.” His voice was even. “You need energy, little girl, and that means bread.”

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