Page 12 of Claimed By the Sinful Dragon
“Uh…no.”
“And while we were flying back here?”
I shook my head. “Trying not to puke.”
“Naturally.”
“Do you have a point, or did you just want something else to gloat about? Because in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m having a pretty crappy day.”
“If you hadn’t been busy feeling sorry for yourself, you might have noticed we’re a little isolated. If you get over that wall, there’s nowhere to go. And if you try…”
“Yeah, yeah, let me guess. You’ll kill me.”
“No.” His ice cold voice stopped me in my tracks. “I’ll tie you to my bed and make you scream.”
I swallowed. That shouldn’t sound nearly as enticing as it did.
“Okay, well, going with the assumption that would be a bad thing…”
“You don’t seem entirely convinced,Dhoca.”
His eyes pinned me in place and the image of other parts of him pinning me on his bed flashed through my mind, and I washaving a pretty hard time thinking of any reason that wouldn’t be a good thing. I turned away quickly.
“You know what you need? A drink. Let me get you that drink.”
His throaty chuckle as I hurried over to the cabinet was so low that I almost didn’t hear it. I sloshed his whisky into a glass with shaking hands. Ugh. I seriously needed to get a grip. He was my captor. And the fact that he was hotter than Hell itself was completely and utterly irrelevant because I was absolutelynotinterested in going there. At all. Ever.
He took the glass from me without a word and I backed away quickly before he could smell how het up he had me. The amused look on his face told me I hadn’t moved fast enough. That, or his senses were far superior to any wolf’s. Either way, it sucked. Big time.
“So, um, what’s the deal here?” I said, peering resolutely at one of the old oil paintings.
“The deal?” He sounded amused, which made exactly one of us. I battled the urge to turn around.
“Yeah. Like, am I supposed to be hovering around waiting on you hand and foot all day?”
“If I desire it.”
“Well, that sucks.” I trailed one finger through the dust on the bottom of the frame. “What about days off?”
“Days off?” He sounded like the concept was completely alien to him. That didn’t bode well for me.
“Yeah. Like if I wanna chill, spend the day in bed.”
“Oh?”
The unintended double entendre of my words hit me all at once and I spun around, my face burning. “Alone. Sleeping. Definitely alone.”
“There are no days off.”
“Dear gods. Did you last slave turn suicidal?”
Before I could so much as yelp, his palms slammed into the wall on either side of my face, trapping me with his body.
“You will not speak disrespectfully about Alina again, is that clear?”
His eyes bored into mine and my mouth went so dry I couldn’t have spoken if he’d offered me my freedom in exchange for a whisper. I nodded.
“Good. Now, while we’re here, let’s set some ground rules. You will work whichever days I dictate. Your duties will include whatever I decide. And yes, that does extend to cleaning and cooking, so you’d best learn, and fast. And if you continue to disrespect me, I’ll spank that pert little ass of yours until you beg for mercy. Is that clear?”
