Page 32 of Lily

“Then you must be dying to open one.”

“Vanderbilt stocked my room with books. When I first arrived and he was giving me a tour, he said I could read in my free time.” She lifted her gaze. “The second evening, I sat on the floor and looked at all the titles. They made me break out in hives. I never touched them. Besides, I never had free time. That had been a lie.”

“I’m sorry.” His hands moved to her cheeks. “Now, you’ll have all the free time you want. You’re going to sleep, eat, and relax. Read anything you want.”

She shuddered as she recalled those books. They’d seem to mock her every time she’d come into the room.

“What were those books?” Stefano asked. “Stephen King or something?”

“I wish. More like Slave Positions: A Guide. Disciplining Your Wayward Slave. Corporal Punishment Guaranteed to Keep Your Slave in Line.”

His jaw went tight.

The coffee sputtered, indicating the pot was full.

Drawing in a breath, he kissed her forehead and turned toward the pot. He pulled two mugs from the rack on the counter, filled them both with coffee, and held one out to her. “Try it black, so you’ll know what it tastes like. Don’t be surprised if you don’t like it. We’ll add cream and sugar after you taste it.”

She took it from him. The mug warmed her hands. The scent was enticing, but she wasn’t sure about the taste yet.

“Be careful not to burn your mouth, sweetheart.”

She smiled at him. He had no idea how much his kindness meant to her. And every time he used that endearment, she swooned.

Finally, she blew on it and took a small sip. Her nose curled up. “Bleh.”

He chuckled and took it from her. “See? I didn’t figure you’d like it black.”

“Why would anyone drink that?” It seemed like all the men she’d encountered drank black coffee as though it were an elixir.

He shrugged. “It’s an acquired taste.” He opened three sugar packets and dumped them in before adding three small creamers. After finding a spoon in a drawer, he stirred it. The mixture turned a creamy color.

“Try it again,” he encouraged.

She took another sip. Mmm. And another. “Yep. That’s better.”

“More cream? More sugar?”

“It’s pretty sweet. How about more cream?”

He took it back, added three more, stirred, and returned it to her hands. Now, it was a much lighter color.

She drank some and grinned. “I might like it.”

“If not, you won’t hurt my feelings, Rose. We can always make tea. There’s a few teabags here.” He held up three.

She sipped the coffee. “I’m going to give this a try. Thank you.”

He took it from her, set it on the counter, and lifted her to set her on her feet again. “Can I look at the welts again, sweetheart? I’d like to put more ointment on them so they don’t scar.”

“Okay.” She didn’t think they would scar. This wasn’t the first time she’d been beaten this hard. Her Master hadn’t wanted to permanently mar her skin. He’d enjoyed the power too much to restrain himself. That’s why he’d repeatedly invented misbehaviors so he could discipline her. But he’d liked to look at her naked body too much to permanently mark it.

However, Stefano didn’t know all that, and she didn’t feel like telling him. So when he pulled the ointment out of his pocket, she turned toward the counter and set her hands on the edge.

He lifted her shirt. “Hold this up for me, Rose.” He gently lowered her pants to her knees next.

She held her breath as he rubbed the cream along all four welts. His touch was so gentle and caring. It reached deep inside her and reminded her of her humanity.

“Does it hurt that bad, sweetheart?”

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