Page 51 of The Captive's Curse
I had my own private bathing chamber here, and so this was much better in every way, since Enzo had refused to give me one. In a couple of days I’d find someone else to fuck me to keep the curse at bay. Not Aldo, of course, but maybe he could recommend a friend with a nice cock. Contemplating choosing my own lover left me vaguely queasy and overwhelmingly exhausted, sensations that didn’t fade even as I sank into the delightfully scalding water, the fragrance of lavender rising up around me, the softness of the bath salts Aldo had sprinkled in soothing away all my aches.
Home. So much better. I could get breakfast in bed every morning, as usual.
Fuck. Beatrice. I hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye, to her or to Benito, or to any of the others in the kitchen—and they might consistently under- or over-cook everything that Beatrice personally didn’t oversee, but they’d been so kind to me.
Would Benito think I hadn’t meant it when I promised to play each of his favorite songs twice the next time I came to the kitchen? That I’d lied to him and didn’t care?
I sank a little deeper into the water, up to my chin, steam painting my face with trickles of condensation.
It turned out that my eyes hadn’t run out of moisture after all, but at least Aldo wouldn’t be able to see me crying.
Hans’s reasons for staying at Montefime rather than chasing his offended betrothed became clear the very next morning.
A good night’s sleep in my own soft bed, snuggled into a heap of my own incredibly luxurious pillows, had been capped off with the most pleasant of the household’s maids opening my curtains quietly and laying out tea and scones beside my bed in the morning.
It had left me cranky, exhausted, and on edge.
So I rolled out of bed a bit sooner than I otherwise would have, being given to lounging with my tea for as long as the pot could be refilled, and dressed without any particular care. I certainly had no interest in looking handsome for stupid Hans, and in fact would have preferred to avoid him completely.
So of course, the moment I strolled into the breakfast parlor hoping for coffee to follow up my tea, and possibly some bacon, Hans appeared out of nowhere.
“Good morning, Cyril,” he said from behind me, and I jumped and spilled coffee all over the sideboard. I glanced back to find him approaching from the direction of the main hall, where I’d also come in a few moments ago. Had he been lurking in wait for me? “Oh, dear. You seem to be clumsy this morning. Allow me to—”
“No, I don’t need—really, I’m fine!”
He came up behind me and laid his hand on top of mine on the handle of the pot, and I jerked my hand away, slipping out from between his body and the sideboard by dint of makingmyself practically two-dimensional. Ugh, I didn’t want to touch him!
Hans stared at me. “I was only trying to help you,” he said in a wounded tone. “You must have had such a dreadful time of it with that monster holding you captive. You need someone to take care of you until you’re recovered, hmm?”
My turn to stare. I could feel my eyes growing rounder and rounder, and I gaped like a landed fish.
No.
Could he possibly, truly, want to transfer his interest from Rivina to me? I couldn’t believe it. Of course, I was much prettier than Rivina, and if she’d ever sucked his cock I was sure she hadn’t done it as well as I had.
But that couldn’t be enough for him to fall in love with me instead.
And aside from all of that, I desperately didn’t want to believe it.
As usual, Hans sailed past the obvious—in this case, my shock and horror—and landed on whatever he’d wanted to think in the first place.
With a furrowed brow and a soft smile, probably intended to indicate sympathy, he said, “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee, Cyril? You can tell me about it. Where did he take you?” That question came out with an avid intensity he clearly tried, and failed, to hide. “It must have been so frightening for you,” he added, in the soothing sort of tone you’d use with a child.
Oh,ugh. Finn’s flirtatious suggestion that I might be afraid of the dark didn’t hold a candle to this level of condescension. The tea and scones threatened to come back up again. Coffee would make me feel better, but this fucking asshole was holding the coffee hostage!
And…wait a moment.Where did he take you?
Comprehension dawned at last.
If he’d really cared about my well-being, and ransomed me on that basis, I could’ve forgiven some of his less pleasant qualities. If he’d done it to score off of Bruno, well, who could blame him? And if he’d desired me, then that at least would have been…well, not quite flattering, since I didn’t want his attention. But wanting to use me for my body was something I could understand.
But no. He’d ransomed me, and stayed at Montefime, so that he could interrogate me about Enzo and his lair, not out of any interest in me as a man, a member of my family, or even as a convenient hole to stick his cock into.
Although by the way he was sidling toward me, eyes gleaming, he might very well be hoping for the use of a convenient hole as well as a source of information about Enzo.
How utterly vile.
Sharp, insulting words sprang to my tongue: an assessment of his cock (barely adequate) and performance with same (disappointing), his abilities as a Lord Constable (lacking), his quality as a fiancé (self-explanatory), and my honest opinion of his character, personality, and appeal (I’d rather passionately embrace a garden toad).
