Page 83 of Elicit (Decadence After Dark)

I soften under his formidable hold and righteous vow. The man could melt an icicle in the dead of winter with just his fiery words.

“Trust me,” he hums, hypnotizing me. “Sometimes things are not always what they seem.”

“That’s what scares me.”

“You have nothing to be afraid of as long as you’re with me,” he promises righteously.

I hope so. I have put my extremely fragile life in his hands. An infancy life I have only owned for a few short days.

“Can I meet her?” I request boldly.

Jett frowns. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Kayne wants her isolated.”

“She’s going to go crazy all alone,” I press.

“She not alone. She has me. And Kayne. Between the two of us, we keep her busy.”

I raise a dubious eyebrow as I inspect the closed door opposite us. “What’s she like?”

“Feisty. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He winks.

I stare forlornly at the door. Too many bad memories to count rush back. Endless hours locked away, objectified by the person who was supposed to love me, a sex pawn to utilize for favors and bribes. Years and years of emotional torment.

“How is she handling Kayne?”

Jett gazes up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “They’re still getting acquainted.”

“Acquainted?”

“She had a hard time submitting at first, but I think she’s finally coming around. She’s. . . .” He blows out some hot air. “Important to him. As crazy as that must sound right now.”

Important to him?Then why the fuck is he holding her captive? I try to wrap my head around the obscure information.

“Crazy doesn’t begin to cover it.” I twist my lips disapprovingly.

“So . . . are we all on the same crazy train?” Jett asks delicately.

I nod tentatively. I may not like it, but I’ll get on board. Blind faith, right? Whoever would have thoughtmeof all people would buy into such a thing? The eternal pessimist.

“Good. And just to err on the side of caution, let’s keep this conversation to ourselves. The less people who know the better, okay?”

“Yes, Jett.” I press my lips together condescendingly.

He narrows those reflective eyes. “Brat.”

“Sometimes.”

“I like when you’re bratty. It means I get to spank you.”

“How often does Kayne’spetget spanked?” I despise using the word pet.

“She’s hiskitten,” he corrects. “And enough. And, if you’re not careful, I’ll bend you over my knee right here, right now, and show you how your owner handles it when you misbehave.”

“You’re my owner now?” I coquettishly challenge.

“I’ve always been your owner. From the very first moment you walked into this house.”

If any other person professed that, I’d shrink away. But when Jett says it, I feel empowered. I feel wanted. I feel protected. I experience all these foreign elations even under the grimmest circumstances. If that’s not true ownership, I don’t know what is.

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