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No more words from her. Just a continued half giggle as she washes herself, turns her back on me, and regains her calm breathing. That’s fine by me. I’m not in here to talk. Not in here for conversation or some in built mechanism to fall in love either. I’m here because of need and want.
That’s it.
I strip the rest of my clothes and sling them, my hand reaching for the soap as soon as she’s finished. She bats me away from it and lathers up her hands, eyes finally coming back to mine. Time stalls as we look at each other, nothing else in the room but us and the sound of water running, and then she palms my chest to start washing me.
The move makes me frown, but I don’t stop her as she starts rubbing. I watch, letting the gentle tickle of the chain bounce around my skin as she washes me. Soft strokes, cleansing. Every inch of me. Chest, stomach, thighs. Dick. It hardens again under her touch, making me crave for more again.
She giggles and let’s go of me, loose hands gripping the top of the shower screen rather than me. Her back turns away, shoulders shrugging as if I should return the gesture of washing. No. That’s not what this is. Intimacy isn’t an option. Fucking and playing are.
I walk out and leave her there, grabbing at a towel as I wander into the bedroom. The evening’s coming now. I gaze out the window into the snow lit lightly by the castle's menacing glow, and rub at my hair to dry it off. Night time. This place is always better by night. Darker. Dirtier.
The thought makes me chuckle lowly and listen to her come in the room behind me. She’s so quiet around me, barely a whisper of movement as she gets dressed. I keep staring out into the night, dismissing memories and thoughts other than the here and now. I’ll take a few days. Indulge myself with everything I want, and then we’ll leave.
Finished.
A sharp knock sounds on the door. I turn to the sound lazily and watch her opening it without regard to her lacking clothes. Lace panties again. Nice.
“Mam, Malachi asked me to bring this up to you,” the maid says, offering her a large flat box.
She takes it and backs into the room, closing the door behind her, and then looks at me as if I should know the answers. I don’t. I know less about Malachi’s mind set with her here than I normally do. He’s different with her, as if she’s worthy of a new game to him.
“No idea,” I muse, wrapping the towel around my waist and moving to the walk in. “But whatever it is, it will be uncomfortable.”
I pull out some black pants and shirt and shrug into them, uninterested in his game. There isn’t one as far as I’m concerned. There is nothing but desire and focused intent. I frown and think on that time we were drunk. Laughing. I can’t afford laughs now. Laughs will mean something other than what this has to be.
“Gray?” I wander out at her call, buttoning up my shirt, and look at the straps of leather all over the bed. “What is it?” she asks. I walk closer and take in the ensemble, unsure myself because of the way it’s haphazardly distributed on the sheets. “It’s nothing but straps and buckles.”
“Malachi likes straps and buckles.”
“I’m sure, but how does it go on?” she mutters, tilting her head.
I pick up a buckle and dangle it from my finger, chuckling. “Do you even want to wear this?”
“Yes. Malachi says.”
I nod and pick up some more bits, eventually rearranging them into the outfit. It’s just a puzzle, something to be analysed and processed. I’m good at that. I look at it and step back, wondering if that was his point. A puzzle, something to be thought about. I’m not thinking about anything he might think worthy of thought. She isn’t, other than her body.
The thought makes me take some pills from my pocket and toss them on the bed next to the outfit, making sure whatever she takes is mine and mine alone. “Only those,” I mutter, stepping away from her.
I frown again and walk to the door, trying to dampen down the sense of possession in me that wants to stay with her, escort her. She’s nothing but a toy now. Something to play with and enjoy for the small amount of time I have here. Neither of us can afford anything but that because of what we’ve done or are doing. “Find me if you want more. Only take them from me.”
“Gray?” I turn to look at her. “You’re not waiting for me?” She looks at the bed and straps again. “Or helping me?” I’m not here to help her anymore. I am opposing and opposite now. The one watching and playing rather than the protector I intended at first.
“No. You’re fine by yourself. Find the maid when you’re done.” I reach for the doorknob and pull it wide, feet edging me out of the room. “She’ll lead you down to the entertainment.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I don’t look back at her either, as I shut the door quietly. We’re not a couple and I’m not leading her anywhere, nor do I have a right to be possessive about her. We are separate. Two souls who’ll find each other later when the need arises. I’ll watch her fuck until then, watch her enjoy her night, and when I’m ready I’ll amuse myself with her again.
Chapter 7
Hannah
Everything seems unusual again, not flowing. I look myself over in the mirror, bewildered by the vision looking back at me. Straps everywhere. It’s like a cage around me covering the red patches on my skin. High heels and then black straps every three inches up my legs heading to more straps around my waist and breasts. More straps around my arms that eventually link into another strap around my neck.
I grip the gold chain in my hand and flex my fingers around the sensation and visual. Peculiar.Malachi says.But the words don’t resonate like they did. They seem distant now rather than part of me, as if they’re not something to be adhered to.
Why did I anyway? I don’t even know why I’m here.
And Gray was so cold. So brutal and cold.
