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It was that or sob my breaking heart out.
Biting my lip, I choked on polarising emotions.
The tiniest, maniacal giggle slipped out.
Peter cocked his head, his dark hair flopping over his perfect forehead. “Go on. There are no secrets between us. What’s got you snickering?”
I let loose a high-pitched laugh and instantly hated myself. Nothing about this was funny. Everything was miserable and despicable. “My ex complained I was a lousy lay. He said a blow-up doll was better. Perhaps no one will want me, and they’ll send me home because I suck so badly.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed on mine. “He said that?” He scowled as if personally offended for me. “Let’s see if he’s right.” Sensuality flowed through his body as he slinked toward me, cupped my cheeks, and pressed the softest, sexiest kiss I’d ever had on my mouth.
What the—
I froze solid.
My heart exploded into flurries.
His tongue dipped inside, and I wrenched back. Breathing hard, I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, my cuff grazing my cheek with harsh reminder. His kiss was nothing like Sam’s or Henri’s. His was kind. Sam’s was lacklustre. Henri’s was…consuming.
Peter studied my eyes before laughing quietly. “Oh, Ily, I hate to tell you, but…beneath all that righteousness and tightly strung warrior, you are flaming, fucking hot for it.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the fact that you haven’t been pleasured properly in your entire life, and unfortunately for you, that lack of intimacy has left you hungry.”
“No.” I shook my head and pushed him away. “You’re wrong—”
“I’m always right about this.” Bopping me on my nose with his finger, he grinned. “Don’t worry. Unlike some of us who are naturally frigid and despise all touch, your body will ensure you have no choice but to surrender. In fact, I bet if I touched you right now, I’d find you wet.”
My thighs snapped together.
“Oh, don’t worry. I can’t do that. As a fellow jewel, I’m forbidden from servicing that burning little ache between your legs. We’re not allowed to fuck each other so we’re primed and willing when a Master calls us, but someone has already touched you, haven’t they? You’re wet and wanting. Believe me, I can tell.” Inhaling me, he groaned. “You smell like him. Like the guy in the foyer. The guy who looked as if he’d tear Sir V’s and Master R’s heads off if they so much as touched a hair on yours.”
I gasped for something to say, but Peter merely shrugged as if he hadn’t just broken my world. “If you’re wet because of him, then heed my advice. Let go. Surrender. Give yourself to him because it’s rare to find a Master you actually want. You’ve been given a gift. Let him break you in. Let him fuck away all your fears, and by the time he’s done with you…you’ll realise whoever you thought you were is gone, and the stranger left in her place is sexual, powerful, and free.”
Free.
That word.
What a mockery.
What a heartbreaking farce.
Shoving him away, I leapt off the table and hissed, “I’ll never be free again. Victor made sure of that.”
“You’ll be free in other ways,” Dr Belford said. “When you’re ready, take some psilocybin, and you’ll escape in all the ways available to you now.” She shoved a bottle into Peter’s hand. “Hide that well.”
“I always do.” He kissed her cheek. “Are we done here?” Cocking his chin at me, he asked the doctor, “Any diseases I need to tell the Master Jeweler about?”
She shook her head. “I’ll run a longer diagnostic, but initial tests show she’s clean. She can have unprotected sex.”
I glared at her.
“Great.” Linking his fingers with mine, Peter tugged me toward the door. “Time to get you ready.”
* * * * *
I gawked at the stunning luxury before me.
