Mesmerised, I watch as his mouth closesover it.Panting, I reach for the knife and cut myself another slice of cake.Idon’tfeel like eating any more, but Ican’tjust sit hereand watch him eye-fuck me.If I don’t have something in my hands, I’m liable to jump onto his lap.
Archery,I tell myself firmly.
How hard can it be to learn archery?
As I raise my fork to my mouth, he asks, “Do you have a safe word?”
I choke, very gracefully spitting cake all over my plate.“What?”
He handsme aserviette.With shaky fingers, Itakeit.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmurswith a bit of humour colouring his words.
“Wh-why do you need to know?”
His smiletellsme everything.
Oh,bugger, I’m in trouble.
“I, uh, I…” I shove some more cake into my mouth.My second slice gone, I placemy plate on the coffee table.It clatterswith the same nervous energy that’srattling my body.
“Mine’s ‘peace treaty’,” hesays.His lips close around another bite.I want them to close around me.
“You have…” I swallow.“A safe word?”
“Of course.It’s not exactly a one-way street, now is it?”
I open my mouth, then close it again.Ihaveno idea.No one in brownie can say no.Safe words only exist in Fabia’s books, and I didn’t think they were actually real.
“We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with,”he continues.
“Like leaving me as horny as Zeus?”I mutter.Then gasp in horror, one hand flying over my mouth.
He smiles.“That’s called edging.And trust me, you’ll thank me for it.”
Under the heat of his gaze, I believe him.
Eating the last of his cake, he placeshis fork on the plate and setsit on the table.“There.I’m all finished.You can go now.”
Disappointment fillsme.
But I grasp onto the very, very,verythin slither of sanity Ihaveleft and climb to my feet.Right as I reach for the doorhandle though, a hand shootspast my face and slamsonto the wood.Strong fingers turn me around.His body cagesme in.Remembering the night in his office, I start to tremble.Electricityshootsthrough me.
Mythighsquiver, still rocking on that edge he left me on.
Looking into my eyes, he murmurs, “I almost forgot to give you yourotherpunishment.”Reachinginto his pocket,he pullsout an egg-shaped toy.The two rows of squiggled runes on the side tell me it’s been spelled to vibrate.
My eyes widen.My breathsbecomelaboured.Holding my gaze, heslipsthe toy inside me.My muscles clench around it.His fingers press against my clit, making me spasm.
Leaning in, he kissesmy neck.Lickshis way up to my ear.“I’ll see you tomorrow, my queen.”
Pulling me aside, he opensthe door,thenpushesme out.
As I stumble into the hall, my face inflamed, I place my hands in front of me.My jumpsuitiscut, asaremypanties.
And the bastard’s justpressed the button.
Thirty-Three
