Page 57 of Savage Don

He woke me up so harshly that I started the day angry at him. Now, though, I’m desperate.

All of his talk about my virginity has dredged up memories of what we did in the shower. It’s made me think of all that he has planned for me.

A mixture of fear and arousal swirl around deep inside of my gut as we turn into a massive white and black kitchen.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with my birth control pills,” I swallow, scanning the room for any signs of naughtiness.

Nothing. It’s just a regular kitchen. Well, I mean, it’s definitely stunning, modern but with an underlying charm, but there are no sex swings or anything.

“What did I tell you about questions?” Ray asks, looking over his shoulder with warning in his glare.

“That wasn’t a question,” I bite back, still trying to gain my footing.

“Don’t think that technicalities will get you anywhere in my world,” he smirks, looking back ahead.

“We’re from the same world,” I remind him.

In response, Ray smiles. Then, he turns back around and opens up the fridge.

Looking inside, my corrupted mind is finally filled with something other than arousal.

Hunger.

Just like that, all I can think about is the delicious sandwich I had the other day. My belly rumbles as I move closer to the fridge, the dread and the fear melting away to make room for a very basic and innocent desire.

I’ve barely had anything to eat since I got here.

“Hungry?” Ray asks.

“Yes.”

“Good, because so am I. This will be your first lesson of the day.”

“What, how to eat?” I respond, unable to hold back the sass from my tone.

Ray shakes his head. “I’m going to teach you how to cook.”

“I know how to cook.”

“Not like this, you won’t,” Ray smiles. Taking a carton of eggs from the fridge, he shuts the door and turns around, handing them to me.

“What, do you have some kind of fancy, futuristic stove?” I ask, perplexed.

“No. It’s an ordinary, if expensive stove.”

“Then, what’s the difference?

“Start, and I’ll teach you.”

I’m suspicious, and I can still feel a stone of anxiety vibrating around deep inside my gut, but when my belly rumbles again, all I can just picture is a steaming plate of delicious scrambled eggs.

“Fine,” I huff. “Grab me a frying pan and a bowl.”

“Who said I was going to be your sous-chef?,” Ray teases.

“Do you want this to take a long time or not?”

“I think you’ll find that once we really start, you won’t want to stop.”