Page 35 of House of Cards

Judging from Zoey’s thousand-yard stare, it seems the gravity of her situation is finally sinking in. Her eyes are fixed on the city below, but there’s no trace of the feverish desperation that spun out of her yesterday.

She looks empty. Drained.

A bird lands briefly on the balcony’s railing, both of us turning to watch it preen its feathers.

Zoey lets out a quiet, “Oh,” when it flies off. As if its departure was the signal she was waiting for, she sighs and slaps her hands on the armrests of her chair.

“So. How long are you going to keep me here, Smith?” she asks in a dull monotone, the only inflection on my name, like it’s the last bullet in her plastic gun.

When I amble over to her, she huddles deeper into her towel. I’m waiting to see if I’m going to bleed through this bandage before risking another shirt, so she’ll have to contend with staring at my naked chest a while longer.

She turns her head away when I grab her chair’s armrests and lean in, as I take a moment to I inhale her scent.

Fuck knows why I’m stalling.

I’ve had plenty of time to think this through after yesterday’s impulsive decision to subjugate this woman instead of tossing her remains into various dumpsters across the state.

The Den gets another Angel, Zoey repays her debt…it works out for everyone involved.

So why am I still hesitating?

I wouldn’t have given someone else a second thought. Their body, their mind, their defiance, I’d treat them like the assets they were, until they were no longer of value to me.

But Zoey is already getting under my skin in ways I don’t like.

Dangerous ways.

“Until you’ve repaid your debt.” I tuck a wayward section of damp hair behind her ear, but it just falls out again.

“With sex.” She glances away, waving her hands. “Once, twice a day?” When I say nothing, she widens her eyes at me, and hisses out an incredulous, “More?”

“Don’t over complicate it, kitten. It’s simple.” I tuck that hair behind her ear. It springs free, just as defiant as she is. “You open when I say open, or I’ll break you so you can’t ever close.”

She looks down, running her hands over the pale velvet armchair. “Yup. Okay. Got it.”

There’s a resignation in her voice, but it feels forced. Like she’s trying to appease me. I grab her chin, tilting her head up, forcing her to look at me.

Were those smudges under her eyes there when she woke up?

“Don’t think for a second that all I want is your pretty little cunt.”

Her breath hitches, lips parting in disbelief. For once, she doesn’t have anything to say. And I savor the moment, because it confirms what I already suspected.

Zoey is breaking, whether she knows it or not. That fire she stoked last night is already smoldering into ash.

“You’ll give me more than your body, kitten.” I take her coffee cup from the table, deliberately brushing her hand as I lift it to my lips.

“You’ll give me your absolute obedience, and you’ll hate yourself for how much you love it.”

I take a long sip from her cup, swish it around in my mouth, and then let the coffee dribble out of lips and back into the cup.

“I’ll train your mouth to salivate every time I tell you to get on your knees. For your pussy to cream itself when I bend you over.”

I bring the cup to her trembling lips, following her when she tries to twist away with a grimace.

“Drink.”

She hesitates, throwing me a frantic look, then reluctantly puts her mouth to the rim of the cup. I tip it, my eyes flickering to her throat to watch it move as she swallows.

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