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He pulled his lips away but kept them close to mine. “Return that knife to Lars. He’ll be looking for it.” Threat was in his eyes. He wasn’t happy with my behavior the previous night. “I’ll punish you when I get home.”
“Punish me?”
“Yes.” He grabbed the back of my hair and kept his hold on me. It was unbreakable, made of iron. “An assassination attempt on your master’s life won’t go unnoticed. I suggest you rest before I get back.”
***
I wasn’t worried about his threat. He could try to hurt me, but I would fight back. Just because I didn’t have any weapons didn’t mean I couldn’t throw a mean right hook. Growing up in the ghetto gave me a steel spine. It was difficult to intimidate me.
Very difficult.
He came home at his regular time and retreated into his room to shower and change. He didn’t stop by the bedroom to greet me. Without his saying a word to me, I knew he expected me to come to dinner dressed in something nice.
If I didn’t obey, it would lead to a fight, and I’d rather save my energy for whatever he had planned for me. When it came to Crow, I had to pick my battles. I may be a worthy opponent, but so was he.
I sat across from him at the dinner table, wearing whatever I found in my closet. Most of my wardrobe consisted of dresses. Crow preferred the classy look, a woman dressed in elegance that showed off her shoulders and legs.
He sipped his wine then started to eat. He didn’t make conversation with me. He didn’t mention what happened last night. Sometimes, he was in a talkative mood, and sometimes, he wasn’t. His moods were unpredictable. Being his captive for over a month wasn’t enough time for me to figure him out.
“So, when are you going to punish me?” I probably shouldn’t mock him, but I couldn’t help it. I liked to thwart him, to remind him I couldn’t be easily overcome.
“As soon as we’re finished with dinner.” He continued eating with upstanding manners. His elegant movements contradicted the darkness in his eyes. He was a gentleman, but he was the devil at the same time.
“And what exactly are you planning on doing to me?”
“It can wait until after dinner.” He always had to have the power in the conversation. He made subtle moves to put me down and raise himself up.
I kept pushing. “No, it can’t.”
“I don’t want you to lose your appetite.”
“I never have an appetite when I have to look at you.” I gave him a cold stare, hating him and adoring him at the same time. I loved it when he kissed me and fucked me so passionately. No man had ever taken me like that, like he had to have me then and there. It was the kind of attraction I’d only heard about. But I also despised him for keeping me as a prisoner. He treated me like a pawn in a game, a toy he liked to play with.
My words didn’t put him on edge. It didn’t seem like he cared. “All I have to do is shove two fingers inside you. I’ll see your appetite then.” He held my gaze with a winter chill in his eyes.
My thighs squeezed together automatically, knowing he was right. My body was dangerously dehydrated because he made me wet every time he was in my presence.
We sat in uncomfortable silence and finished our meal. I waited for him to tell me his plan for the evening, but he never did. He finished a glass of wine like he did every night with dinner. He threw the remaining liquid away, never keeping a bottle that had already been uncorked.
“I’m finished.” I set my napkin on the table and stood.
“Sit.” His command erupted from deep within his throat. He never raised his voice, but he sounded powerful all the same.
I didn’t want to obey. I wanted to stand there out of defiance. But I wanted to know what plans he had for me. A bottle of wine was sitting on the table, and I could whack him upside the head with it. I lowered myself back into the chair.
“Your actions last night really got to me.” He sat upright in his chair like he was a king and I was a citizen about to be executed. “I’ve never been so hard in my life.”
That last part confused me.
“But you have to be punished for your actions. So I’m going to tie you up, spank you with my belt, and then fuck you. That’s a fair punishment for your behavior, Button.”
I’d been slapped with a belt before. It didn’t seem painful, but it was. The bite of leather always marked the skin, making it welt and redden. The pain lingered for days afterward, and the scars took weeks to disappear. “You expect me to do that for a button?”
