Page 43 of Not Another Dark Romance

“All of them,” I reply without hesitation.

“Not an answer, but I have some ideas.” He turns off the water and gets out, grabbing two folded towels from the rack. I step out of the tub, and he dries me carefully as though I’m something precious before I quickly use the toilet, and he helps me into a clean pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that smells like him. Finally, he reattaches the chain around my neck as promised.

The second the lock clicks into place, I break out into a grin.

“Comfortable?” he asks, smirking.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He throws on loose sweats and grabs the chain to lead me back into the bedroom. “I’ll feed you now.” He sits on the edge of the bed, and I stand in front of him, waiting for instruction while he unpacks the food. He grabs a pillow and sets it on the floor between his spread legs. “On your knees.” I obey, appreciating the consideration he has for my comfort, and once I’m settled, he adds, “Rest your head on my thigh if you’d like.”

So I do, nuzzling into him a bit, enjoying the contact and how close I feel to him right now. He smirks as he pulls the food out. It’s a chicken and pasta dish and smells as amazing as when he first brought it home. My stomach rumbles, and Zane carefully stabs the plastic fork into the container before holding up a bite for me. Being fed like this sends a spike of adrenaline through me.

“Open up, Pet.”

“This is so much better than that protein bar the first morning,” I remind him before I part my lips obediently, my eyes fixed on his as he brings the first forkful to my mouth. It’s delicious, but the taste is nothing compared to the heady rush of this new experience.

Zane watches me chew, never taking his eyes off me. It’s degrading in a way. I’m a grown man being fed like a child, but the degradation is part of the appeal. The humiliation turns me on, and the act itself reminds me of the power he holds over me.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I was overwhelmed and annoyed by having to decide what to eat every day, to cook or go out, to have to deal with groceries and make a list. It felt like a waste of my mental energy most of the time. Now, a sexy man is hand-feeding me a delicious meal I didn’t have any part in getting. Talk about a fantasy come to life.

Zane continues feeding me, bite by bite. There’s no rush or impatience on his end as he watches me eat, no longer guarding his expression as he stares at my mouth longingly. Each forkful feels like a reminder that he cares about me.

By the time the container is empty, I’m full. I feel nourished, but more than that, I feel cherished.

Zane puts everything off to the side before stroking his fingers through my hair. “Was that good, Pet?”

I smile up at him, my head still resting on his thigh. “Yes, Master. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome. You’ve been such a good boy for me.”

“Did I earn a reward?” I ask hopefully as I pointedly shift my gaze to the bulge in his pants.

He laughs. “Not that kind of reward. I was thinking you could sleep in here tonight. With me, if you’d like?”

I immediately nod, biting my lip to keep back my grin, but I can’t contain it. I knew I’d get him to let me sleep in his bed! It’s fucking happening. Finally.

He notices my giddiness at getting what I want and chuckles. “Your collar is going to be chained to it.”

“Great because I don’t want to leave. Why would I when I have everything I’ve ever desired right here?”

20

Movement against my chest rouses me from sleep, and I slowly open my eyes, expecting to see Pete’s head resting on me. I find faded pink curls there instead, and everything that happened last night comes rushing back to me.

Mason slept in my bed last night. In my arms, cuddled up against me.

I locked the chain that’s attached to his collar around one of the metal poles of my headboard, but it isn’t until this moment—as I see the chain next to us on the bed—that I realize how fucking stupid that was. What if he choked me with it while I was sleeping? Okay, sure, he could also smother me with a pillow or even choke me with his hands… but still, the chain seems more like a weapon now that he’s curled up against me than it did when we were down on opposite ends of the basement.

I glance over at my door with its shitty lock. It’s definitely time for an upgrade, but first I should really figure out what time it is. I have to be at work for the lunch shift today, so I carefully slip out of bed to find my phone where I left it with last night’s clothes in the bathroom. Luckily, I didn’t sleep in too late, so I should have time to go to the hardware store before work.

Mason is still sound asleep, looking more peaceful than I’ve ever seen him while I get ready for the day. I sneak out of my room without waking him to make us breakfast—his favorite—and when I’m back in bed with two plates of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast, I finally run my fingers through his hair. “Mason, wake up. I need to go soon, and I made you breakfast.”

He smiles softly before slowly blinking open his eyes. “Is this real? Or did you finally kill me?”

I let out a surprised laugh. “It’s real. You’ve been upgraded from prisoner to pet, remember?” My tone is light, teasing, and a part of me still can’t believe any of this is real either, that I let him in my bed, and I plan to use him as my own personal toy while keeping him locked up in my room.

Mason’s smile grows, and he nods toward his dog who’s curled up and still sleeping near his feet on the bed. “It’s about damn time. I’ve been so jealous of Piet.”