Page 101 of The Beast Who Begged Me

Sammy’s chair is empty.

I push my fork into the pasta hard enough to feel the plate beneath it. For maybe the first time in my life, I’m not hungry. All I can do is watch Caligula. His throat moves as he swallows.

King already has Sammy. Now Caligula is going to walk through those same doors, and I can’t stop imagining what will happen when they close behind him.

I can’t have another empty chair at this table.

I knelt in this kitchen and swore to obey Caligula, and I meant it, I swear to God I did…but I cannot let him walk into that fucking building. Whatever he thinks he can get from King, it isn’t worth what King will take.

The safe room has a bed. Water. Food. A bathroom, even.

And I never did get around to programming in his fingerprint.

I set my fork down.

He’ll be furious. But that’s fine.

He can be furious for as long as he fucking likes, provided he’s here to tell me about it. And I’ll go to the Obelisk, tell our allies the plan has changed; we’ll just break in and get Sammy back ourselves.

“We should rest before you have to go,” I say. “You barely got any sleep last night.”

Caligula looks up from his plate, the suggestion of a smirk on his face. “Neither did you.” His foot presses against mine beneath the table, and I make myself nod.

I catch his wrist at the top of the stairs. “Before we lie down. Break my hold.” Caligula looks from my hand to my face, then plants his feet and turns into the hold, exactly as I taught him. His wrist slips free, and I catch it again.

“Dami.” He sounds patient, which makes this worse. “If you want to fuck me into the mattress before I go—which I assume was what you meant by ‘resting’—then we need to get on with it.”

“Show me again.” I shift him along the landing as I reset my grip. He comes with me, concentrating on where I’ve put my thumb, and when he breaks free this time, I’m beside the panel concealing the safe room.

“Satisfied?” Caligula asks. “Now can we go to bed?”

I catch his wrist once more, but this time he steps close instead of turning away. His free hand settles against my chest, and he gives me the same little smile that made training him in that Morelli gym such a fucking problem.

He tips his face up, waiting for me to kiss him. I do, and the hand I’ve been holding closes on my shirt as soon as I release it.

I walk him backward, keeping my mouth on his. He moans, and I remember the hospital, thinking I could distract him with sex. It didn’t work.

But he was expecting it then. He won’t be now.

I slide my hand into his hair, careful of the sore place, and kiss him until he forgets to ask why we’re standing outside this particular room.

The thing is, some part of me has just been waiting to have him safely behind a locked door again. My hands have become steady. I steer him with ease. He trusts me enough to walk backward without looking.

It feels right. Feels the way it used to feel.

“Bedroom,” he gasps when I lift my head. His fingers pull at my shirt, trying to bring me back to his mouth.

“I want you now.” I kiss him again and lay my finger on the scanner to open the safe room.

And then I take the last step with him, over the threshold.

He sits when the backs of his legs meet the bed at the end of the long space, then reaches up for me.

“Wait,” I say. “We need some privacy for this.”

I could do it now. Step outside, lock him in here. But instead, I shut the door with me inside, and then I return to the bed.

Caligula reaches for me, and I lay myself out over him. He puts his hand against my face, drawing me down for a kiss, and I have to shut my eyes. He thinks the worst thing waiting for him is at the Obelisk.