Page 47 of Captive


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“Yeah,” he says, getting up and coming over to me. He plants his big hands on either side of me, leans down, and kisses me very sweetly on the forehead. “I can deny you what I know you crave.”

“What?”

“No cock until you’re better,” he says,

“What!?” I whine. “Why not? Why can’t we just be careful?”

“One, I don’t trust myself to be careful enough with you in this damaged state, and two, the next time I fuck you, it will be with tears in your eyes from the thrashing you just got for escaping that jail cell.”

I draw in a deep breath, then murmur my response under it.

“That’s so fucking hot.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Avel smirks sexily at me. “I am going to punish you, Raine. I am going to give you the lashing of a lifetime. And you are going to take every bit of it, because you know that you deserve it.”

A light tap at the door interrupts what is already becoming a very stimulating conversation. I think I could come just by touching myself and listening to Avel threaten me with terrible punishments. But that is not to be.

“Come in!” Avel calls out.

Sona, the alpha’s manservant, makes an appearance. When he speaks, he does so in a long sighing tone which is very impressive given how much he says in one long, put-upon exhale.

“The alpha would like me to request your presence at dinner, Enforcer Thorn, including the human. I asked him if he was certain, given how events transpired last time. I even made it clear that getting mash out of the carpets is a time-consuming affair, but he insisted. So. Please. Come to dinner. Both of you.”

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

“I kind of love that guy,” I say. “I think that’s the first thing I’ve ever heard him say, and I love it.”

Avel smiles. “Yes. He’s one of a kind.”

“And I am hungry,” I admit.

“Me too,” he says, helping me down from the bed carefully. “Let’s eat.”

Sona is waiting to serve us when we arrive in the dining room. The alpha and Sullivan already have their meals, and Torin is there too. It seems we are a little bit of an afterthought for some reason. I wonder if Sullivan had anything to do with that. Her smile does seem genuine when she sees me, but that doesn’t mean anything.

We are seated at the table, in the same positions as before, and Sona offers us a choice of food. Avel first, of course. He is the saurian and the dominant partner and of course he gets the first and best of everything.

Once he has served Avel, Sona turns to me.

“There is sky bird or land bird as options, or would madame prefer I saved everybody time and launched her meal into one of her companion’s faces at the outset?”

I laugh, though he does not. There is a brief ripple of something like dour amusement around the table, and I realize that my behavior here has earned me something of a reputation. Interesting. I have blotted my copybook. I have stained my reputation. I am a very, very bad girl. All of these thoughts make me grin wider.

“Land bird, please,” I say, ignoring his snark. “On my plate. I’ll decide whether to launch it later.”

Sona lets out a long-suffering groan as he serves me a delicious meal that I do actually intend to eat, and we all settle into our vittles.

Avel and I sit wincing, bandaged, and happy on one side of the alpha’s dinner table. Sullivan has a disgruntled expression on her face as her eyes roam from me, to Avel, and back again. Torin is sitting next to me, shoveling food into his face at a rate that does not allow for conversation or probably even listening.

“What an interesting dinner party,” Thorn comments. He really does have a great deal of imposing gravitas. It is like being at a dinner table with an annoyed Tyrannosaurus Rex, albeit with longer arms. I don’t think of Thorn as being attractive, because I don’t think of anybody besides Avel being attractive. I am chemically bonded to Avel. And that means when I look at Thorn, I now see nothing but a big red and gold saurian with very long glossy hair and broad shoulders, and the hard lines of the face which is scowling at me.

I should be intimidated, but I’m not. I know Avel would never let anything happen to me. Not again. I am never, ever going to be let out of his sight again, I can pretty much guarantee that. Avel extends a wing out around me, enveloping me in an embrace even as we sit at different seats. As the shadow of his protection falls over me, I look back at him with a smile.

“Did I ever say thank you for saving me?”

“No,” he smiles. “I don’t think you did.”

“Thank you,” I say. “And I’m sorry.”

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