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Resisting my impulse to simply open the door and remove the barrier separating me from Sofia, I chose to knock.
A few seconds later, the door opened a crack, revealing an inch of her lovely face. “You knock now?” she asked dully.
I missed the fiery challenge in her tone. She’d acted up yesterday morning, and I’d enjoyed the push and pull with her.
Now, she sounded tired, even though she’d only just woken up. Her luminous skin was pale, the usual sparkle gone from her emerald eyes. Even her mahogany curls seemed to have lost their luster.
I’d been the one to break her like this, but I would fix her. I’d figured out what she needed.
Depriving her of touch and connection yesterday had been a terrible mistake. Sofia needed tactile stimulation, physical affection. Even when she’d been shaking and sobbing after her terror last night, she’d leaned into me when I offered comfort. She craved my reassuring touch.
“Yes,” I said. “I knock now.” I held out my hand, waiting for her to choose to take it. “Come on. It’s time for breakfast.”
Her gaze lowered to my hand, her lips plumping in a small pout. The little flash of emotional reaction confirmed that I was taking the right approach with her. I could coax her back into my arms with a little patience on my part.
“And what if I don’t come out for breakfast? Will there be more consequences?” She sounded more petulant than bitter, and the door eased open another inch. Her gaze was still fixed on my hand, as though it was a shiny object that she was tempted to take.
“Definitely,” I informed her, keeping my tone calm rather than forbidding. “But they won’t involve me leaving you alone in your room.”
She peeked up at me, a little spark of curiosity flashing in her lovely eyes. “What would they involve?”
I quirked my brow at her. “Do you want to find out?”
After only two seconds of indecision, she huffed, “Fine.” She opened the door wide and snatched my hand. “I’m hungry, anyway.”
I hadn’t stipulated that she had to hold my hand to avoid facing consequences; I’d simply told her that she had to eat breakfast.
But she clung on to me, her slender fingers firm around my palm. I was fairly certain she thought she was displaying some form of defiance by squeezing so hard, but it didn’t hurt me in the slightest.
She stalked down the hall, and I allowed her to pretend she was pulling me along to the kitchen with her. We both knew that I didn’t have to go anywhere I didn’t want to. It would be physically impossible for her to force me to move.
But I much preferred this spirited version of Sofia to the sad, spiteful woman I’d left in solitary confinement yesterday. So, I indulged her. Besides, she was kind of adorable when she was fuming. My angry little kitten.
I intended to cuddle her close and make her purr.
When we reached the kitchen, I extricated myself from her hold and picked up one of the stools at the kitchen island, moving it next to the stove. I patted the plush black velvet seat.
“This is where you sit,” I informed her. “Optimal viewing position for a chef-in-training.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, making me wonder if she was hiding her peaked nipples.
That was probably best for both of us, given my newly-imposed rules. Resisting the urge to fuck Sofia was already giving me blue balls, and I was making things even harder on myself by depriving her of underwear.
That issue would be resolved in a few hours, thank god.
I patted the chair again. “Up you get,” I prompted. “I cook, you watch.”
She hesitated for a second longer before she rolled her eyes and hopped up onto the stool with an exaggerated huff.
“Are Drama classes part of your Music degree?” I teased.
She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at me.
I chuckled and started getting out the ingredients I would need to make breakfast. She didn’t manage to stew in silence for even a full minute.
“I’m a Theater minor, I’ll have you know,” she said in an accusatory tone.
I shot her a smirk. “That doesn’t surprise me. You do have a knack for the dramatic. Are you sure you don’t want to double major?”
“You’re infuriating,” she said on a soft growl. “It should be illegal to be so annoying before breakfast.”
“You’re just hangry. Don’t worry, little kitten. I’ll feed you soon.”
“Oh my god.” She threw up her hands in exasperation, but her cheeks flushed pink. “I didn’t know they let hardened criminals use silly words like hangry.” She tried for spite, but now that she’d moved her arms, I had a clear view of her hard nipples against the gray cotton of my t-shirt.
I shrugged, forcing my gaze to her face. “Everyone gets angry when they’re hungry. But you seem particularly susceptible to it. Are you always this grumpy in the morning?”
