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I swallow as he presses his thumb against me. If I were sober, there’s no way I would feel so brave, would walk so willingly forward into this. There’s a chance I’m drugged, that there was something in the wine, or that his mind has the power to make me feel things whether I want to or not.
Fuck, I hate it, but right now I want to.
Badly.
I squirm again.
“You can have whatever you want,” I whisper, my words choked.
“When?”
“Now?”
God, I want it now.
He shakes his head and I hear him chuckle. “You don’t get to decide any of this, little bird.” His hand drops to my waist and he leans in close, so close that I can see his eyes beneath the mask. The whites are bright, his irises gray. They hold me in place, like I’m stuck in their gravitational pull.
His eyes are dangerously beautiful.
“Like it or not, you’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice thick and husky and brimming of promise. “But if you choose to like it, you might even love it.”
His hands now trail up over my breasts, his sheathed fingers delicately rubbing along my hardened nipples, making my breath hitch sharply. I can’t look away from his eyes, the way they shine like the moon in the dark depths of the mask.
“Now, I want you to spend the night on that bed,” he says, quietly commanding. “Naked. On all fours. Your ass in the air. I will come for you when I feel like it. You will not turn around, you will not look at me. You will take whatever I give you and you will take it well. Do you understand?”
Oh Jesus.
I nod. I’m drunk, still lost in his feral stare, and I’m nodding. It scares me and it’s dangerous and yet, right now, it’s exactly what I want.
He straightens up, the connection between us severed, and gestures for me to go in my room. “Fly along to sleep, little bird. I shall wake you soon.”
I stagger inside and then I’m alone.
* * *
* * *
I’ve never been more awake in my life.
The entire castle is silent, except for the occasional gust of wind against the panes, and the far-off pounding of waves against the rocky shoreline below. My own heart makes the most noise of all, like a drummer on a tangent, filling my head and ears with a shaky rhythm.
I’m lying on my stomach, on the bed, just like Death asked me to. I’m wearing the nightgown, but it’s comfortably covering my ass which also isn’t in the air. After he escorted me to my room and warned me what was going to happen, I’ve been a barrel of nerves, torn between wanting to rebel and wanting to comply. I think I’ve come to some place in the middle, though I don’t feel good about it.
Tonight, Death showed a charming side of him. To see the way he interacts with his daughter was heartening, and I really could see the love between them. I know he would do anything for her, and even if all she wants to do is run away, I know she looks up to him greatly. And the way he came to my defense whenever Surma said anything was both appreciated and surprising.
But then all the deflating talk about being his prisoner came up.
And I got drunk and agreed to some midnight tryst, my hormones absolutely on fire and taking over all rational thought.
And now, to know that he’s going to come into my room in the middle of the night and most likely have sex with me, is pushing everything onto a whole other level. I know I told him that I would do anything in order to have my father free and I know I have to uphold that end of the bargain. I just didn’t think that would happen so soon. I’m not uptight about sex, I know what I want, I love the male (and female) body, I love the wanton pleasure of it all, and I love the power that comes with it, the power over someone else, the ability to make their eyes roll back in their head.
And yes, I’ve had sex with strangers, guys whose name I never knew, whose face I’ve forgotten, and it’s never been a big deal. But the difference was, I pursued them. I wanted them. Right now, Death has all the control in the world, right down to the exact position he wants me to be in when he comes in.
Naturally, I took advantage of having Bell in my room and through hushed words and drunk whispers while I sat beneath the fish tank, she tried to give me advice. Mermaids take sexual freedom to a whole new level, that’s for sure, and she can’t really understand my problem, I guess because she knows Death intimately already. But she made sure that I knew I could still have control. I didn’t have to hand all the cards to him. I could go into it wanting it.
