Page 27 of His Keepsake

“Smart girl.” His hard mouth curled, making him look even more cruel and handsome. “Yes, a warm bath. But what do you say first?”

“Thank you for the bath, Mr. Scott.”

He arched a brow. “And?”

I searched through my mind for something—anything. I’d thanked him for breakfast.

“Thank you for…” I began, trying to anticipate what he’d want.

“Being gentle with your ass this first time?”

Saying those words would be pitiful but I was too worn out to protest.

“Yes, thank you. For that.”

That had been gentle?

I pushed myself to my hands and knees, then to my feet, feeling as if I’d run a marathon with sandpaper up my ass.

He tugged on my leash and pointed at the ground. “You didn’t thank me very nicely. Oh, and I told you to crawl.”

I lowered myself to the ground, looking up at him from my hands and knees. There was no way I was going to fight with a man who thought he’d just done me a favor by railing my ass with no actual lube. Who knew what he would consider a punishment if that was a favor deserving of thanks?

“Thank you for being careful with my ass, Mr. Scott.”

“You’re welcome, Emme. It was hard for me to be patient, but I figured you deserved some consideration since you saved your anal virginity just for me. And did you enjoy having a dick in your ass?”

I just stared at him. If I lied, he might punish me, but if I complained…

“I…it doesn’t matter what I like, Mr. Scott.”

He grinned at me. “You catch on fast.” He jiggled the leash then patted his thigh, summoning me. “Now, come on, girl—let’s get into the house. I’m starting to get cold.”

Seriously? He was starting to get cold?

I wanted to seethe, but I was too browbeaten to give him attitude right then. Focusing on his promise of a warm bath, I crawled at his heel into the house, my limbs leaden and sluggish. Pebbles dug into my palms. He walked slowly enough to keep pace with me, his hand gentle in my hair. Although I tried not to cry, once I started, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t do it, and the tears made hot runnels down my cheeks. Once we reached proper flooring, I brushed off the grit then kept going.

The stairs were easy enough, but the lack of carpeting in the house hurt my knees. At least it was better than the flagstones outside.

I hadn’t seen the upper floor yet. Like the main floor, it was expensive, understated, and masculine. The upper floor smelled like him—probably like his bodywash and shampoo. Pleasant, although now I found the mild fragrance terrifying because it made me think of his hard hands and harder body.

He had me crawl through a bedroom that I assumed was his. There was a high, four-poster bed, and from the angle I was at on the floor, I could see subtle bondage rings attached to it. When we reached the bathroom, he picked me up and sat me on the toilet, then turned away to wash his hands.

The room was large and opulent—by far the nicest bathroom I’d been in. The fact that he’d let me into his own private space felt strange, as though I was being rewarded for behaving.

I peed, then wiped off the best I could as he sat on the edge of the tub and watched me. The leash chain had been left pooled beside me though still attached.

“See? You’re not bleeding.” He reached back and turned on the faucets, adjusted them.

“No, Mr. Scott.”

“I wouldn’t want to break my new toy already. That would be wasteful.”

I bobbed my head, too unsettled to meet his gaze.

“Come kneel at my feet while we wait.”

Uncertain of his intentions, I moved closer and knelt, even though my knees were aching almost as badly as my asshole.

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