Page 72 of Lies like Rubies, Part One

“Sir, is she…” the hotel staff trailed off, voice quivering in fear. “Is she all right?”

Brave man.

“Kitten, tell the kind hotel staff that you’re all right,” Dante said silkily, enjoying every moment of my discomfort.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

“I don’t think they heard you.”

“I’m fine!” I snapped, willing my tears not to fall.

“She’s there because she wants to be,” Dante explained further. “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

“Yes,” I bit out, unwilling to give these strangers the piece of my soul that Dante wanted to extract. I shook, shaking with humiliation that they witnessed my degradation and that I was admitting it was by choice.

“Yes, what, kitten?”

“Yes, sir,” I sighed, pressing my cheek into my knees and steadfastly staring at the wall, struggling to hold myself together, to stop shaking, until the staff left the room. If they called the cops on Dante, I didn’t know what would happen, except my humiliation would become far more public.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Dante dragged an armchair beside the cage, then set a tray on top of it. Was he using it as a table? I closed my eyes, dehumanized, exactly as he wanted.

My stomach growled again at the scent of his dinner wafting down to me, but I refused to ask for food. I wasn’t stupid. It didn’t matter how much money I made him or how much I pleased him as his pet. At the end of the day, I was a possession, and Dante didn’t fucking share. This was punishment for smelling like Nick. His fingers dangled through the gaps in the wires, a piece of bread in his hands.

“Eat,” he commanded, his voice low and rumbly.

I reached to take the food, and he withdrew it. “Take it from my fingers like the filthy pet you are.”

My breath caught in my throat, but I was hungry, and I’d skipped lunch to make up for the study session I was missing tonight. Tentatively, I adjusted my position until I was on my hands and knees, then lifted my face. He lowered his hand until I could reach it. I wrapped my lips around the bread and took it from his fingers, before lowering my body to chew and swallow.

“Good kitty.”

If I thought being seen by the hotel staff was bad, this was worse, being treated no better than a spoiled animal. I shook so hard that it was a struggle to take the next bite from Dante’s fingers.

“Lick my fingers clean,” he instructed. When I moved to take his fingers into my mouth to suck on them, he snapped. “I said lick them.”

I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I lapped at the salty, sweet sauce that covered his fingers until they were completely clean. He withdrew his hand from the cage, only to offer me a torn-off cube of bread and butter a few moments later. I took it between my lips, chewing and swallowing, then hesitantly licked the melting butter off his thumb.

“That’s my good kitten,” he whispered, and I fought not to melt at the gentle praise. Bite after bite, I nibbled and lapped at his fingers. My tears slowly subsided, and I entered a meditative-like state as he alternated between feeding me and gently stroking my hair. It felt good, right, like this was exactly where I was supposed to be, at the feet of this dangerous and frightening man as he stroked his callused fingers across my cheek, comforting me.

“I’m full, sir,” I whispered, finally.

He grunted his displeasure. “You’ve eaten very little.”

“Perhaps my appetite would be more robust if eating weren’t so degrading,” I answered, snapping right out of the tranquil calm I’d cultivated.

“Two minutes ago, you were nuzzling your cheek against my hand. Don’t lie to me, and don’t lie to yourself,” he snapped back.

I closed my eyes, shame rushing through me. He was right. I’d enjoyed eating out of his hand, the feel of his fingers against my face, and the soft praise as I did exactly as he asked.

Compromise, Sofia.

“Is there dessert?” I asked, my voice whisper thin with shame, half hoping he’d feed me again, half hoping he’d refuse and leave me in peace.

He let me stew in silence for a long moment before opening the cage. “Come on out, slut.”

His casual use of the slur didn’t faze me as I crawled out of the cage. Once free, I extended my arms straight out in front of me and arched my back, stretching to relieve the tension in my shoulders and hips from sitting on my hands and knees for so long.

---