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Because sir already admitted that he’d rather pleasure Carter than hurt him.
Because sir is already going to hate this night without Carter’s disobedience making things worse.
“Okay, sir,” Carter promises. “I’ll be good.”
Sir’s lips part like he might speak, but then he shakes his head and clears his throat. He looks away. Carter studies him carefully, watching as sir’s jaw clenches and relaxes rhythmically. As his nostrils flare. As his shoulders pull back.
When sir does eventually speak, his entire being is different, from his tone to his posture to the cold look in his eyes as he trains them on Carter. “Come. Let’s greet our guest.”
They go down a different hall than ever before, Carter’s heart beginning to race as he realizes they’re headed toward a door that has windowpanes with faint sunlight coming through them. It’s the closest thing to freedom since his momentary struggle between getting carried out of the auction house and getting shoved into sir’s car.
Breathe.
Keep calm.
Pay attention.
Wait for your moment.
This isn’t your moment, Carter. Not yet. Not now.
Just breathe.
“Kneel here, pet.”
Carter shifts from the crawling position to a kneeling one, his stomach flipping. His hands are shaking hard. He tries to get them to stop, tries to get his body to calm down, but nothing is working as it should. He settles for hiding his hands instead, hoping no one notices them.
The door opens. Fresh air bursts into the hallway. Carter sucks in a breath, his eyes frantic as he takes in every detail. He had forgotten how bright and colorful the world is outside of this place. The green grass. The bright flowers. The watercolor sky as the sun begins to set.
Carter blinks, and the view is gone. In its place is a large man, though not as large as sir. He’s still intimidating as he stands before Carter in his tailored suit, his flashy watch catching the artificial light of the hallway when he reaches to shake sir’s hand.
“Roarke,” the man says with a smile.
That voice.
It’s familiar.
Where has Carter heard that voice?
“Please, just Nathan,” sir insists. “It’s great to see you again, Todd.”
The man seems to puff up. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.”
“Come. I had my chefs prepare a meal for us and my small circle, but I thought we could enjoy some drinks beforehand.” Sir smiles, and it makes Carter shiver. It’s a smile he’s never seen before. At least not on sir. It’s a smile that reeks of power and confidence, but also something evil. Something dangerous. “We can speak privately in my office after that, of course.”
Carter feels a set of eyes fall heavy on him. From the corner of his eye, he sees the man – Todd – turn and focus his gaze the same as sir. Carter feels itchy and raw. He fixes his eyes on his bruised knees and reminds himself of his reward.
“As beautiful as ever,” Todd says. “Is he still struggling?”
“Not terribly. Enough to keep things interesting.”
“Do you intend to break him?”
Sir hums as if he’s considering his order at a restaurant and not the destruction of a human being. The destruction ofCarter. “I rather like him as he is, for now. I never did quite enjoy the house slaves. Far too easy. I like the challenge. I like to watch the fight go out of him. The hope. It never gets old. You’ll see tonight, I’m sure. Though he’s been ordered to be on his best behavior.”
I like to watch the fight go out of him. The hope. It never gets old.
The words crash over Carter in waves until he’s drowning.
