“You’ll be expected to report to Logan’s quarters promptly at 8am. A guard will escort you, but you are responsible for ensuring that you arrive promptly. You will return to the harem at 10pm.”
I continue to detail her grooming standards, clothing restrictions, and behavioral expectations. She doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash at any of it.
The rules are deliberately restrictive, expectations higher than for any other Omega who has stepped foot in the palace. There is no way she will be able to follow them without screwing up somewhere.
We’ll see how long she sticks around after the first time Logan punishes her.
I know Poe has taken it upon himself to learn her secrets. He was just an idiot to think that threats will work.Protecting Logan is both a duty and a compulsion, so I agree we need to figure out what brought her back here.
But we need to maneuver around the walls she puts up, not go straight for tearing them down.
I finally get the reaction I’ve been waiting for when I instruct her to strip.
Her eyes go wide, even as one hand drifts to play at the zipper along her side.
“Are you going to step outside?” she asks, the slightest quaver in her voice.
I give her a humorless smile. “I am not.”
Her gaze flicks to the open door behind me. I watch the wheels turning in her eyes as she decides whether to ask me to close it, at least.
With the smallest sigh, she bows her head and reaches behind her for the zipper.
Smart girl.
The dress opens around her like a butterfly’s cocoon. Only the arm she holds over her chest as a shield keeps it from falling down completely.
She hesitates again, risking one last glance at me in the hope of a reprieve that isn’t coming. I don’t give her so much as an inch. Responding to orders without further prompting or hesitation is one of the rules. If she is already going to fail at that this early, then what’s coming next will be even more painful for her.
The dress cascades to the floor like a golden waterfall, pooling around her feet. Pale flesh shines even in the unflattering yellow light of the florescent lightbulb.
Her arms instinctively curve around herself, shielding as much of her body as possible from my view. One armpresses hard enough against her chest to create seductively rounded globes of the flesh still on display. The opposite hand splays wide over the mound between her thighs, but isn’t large enough to conceal a shock of purple hair between her fingers.
I wasn’t expecting the urge to come over me, but I can’t fight the sudden desire to see all of her again.
“Remove your shoes.”
Maya attempts to comply while keeping herself covered. She hunches more than half over, using one hand to frantically pick at a heel strap while the other remains valiantly crossed over as much of her body as she can reach. She does an admirable job of shielding the important bits from my view.
When she finally stands again, arms still crossed protectively over her body, I raise a mocking eyebrow.
“Put your arms down,” I command.
A single inhaled breath. Then both arms fall mechanically to her side. The gooseflesh peppering her skin is a mismatch for the fire in her dark eyes as she tips back her chin to meet my gaze.
Now there is the defiance I’ve been waiting to see.
My gaze drifts down from her face, lingering on hardened nipples that are a dusky shade of rose. The bend of her waist is more extreme than Logan typically favors, her stomach practically concave where it meets the prominent jut of her hipbones.
“Too thin. You look like you haven’t eaten in a week,” I tell her, though I probably shouldn’t be offering advice. It isn’t as if I want Logan to like her. “You need to plump up. Omegas are supposed to be good breeders.”
She mutters something too low for me to hear.
“What was that you said?”
Her cheeks turn a ruddy pink. “Nothing.”
“If it’s worth saying once, then it’s worth saying twice, so spit it out. You won’t like what happens if I have to ask again.”