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“Then you’ll be happy to hear I brought contraceptives as well.” She was proud her voice didn’t shake at the declaration, at the boldness of such a statement.
Thank goodnessfor Evie.
“My, you are an industrious little lamb. However were you able to obtain those undetected?” A glimmer of wonder tinted his expression, and another wave of satisfaction at her forthrightness washed over her.
“A woman never shares all her secrets, my lord.” With a flirtatious wink, Clara sauntered into the washroom, boosted by their banter. A pleased smile lingered on her lips until a nightgown colored in the lightest of pinks caught her attention. Rubbing the silky fabric between her fingers, the thinness of the garment alarmed her. Surely, this couldn’t be right. She’d never worn such a flimsy piece of clothing in her life!
Hands clumsy with hesitation, Clara unlaced her dress and slowly built a neat pile of cotton and muslin until she stood naked before the nightgown Hugh expected her to wear.If you can’t handle this one request, what makes you think you’ll be prepared for the rest? Might as well return home.Renewed determination straightened her shoulders as she tugged the garment from itsfolded position on a wooden stooland quickly tossed it over her head, the featherlight fabric slinking down her body like cool streams of water.
Her nipples peaked at the sensation, skin prickling at the unprecedented awareness of her body as a woman—asensual appreciation of how she could entice and tease. Smoothing a trembling fingertip over a firmed bud, Clara shivered, body trembling in expectation of…something.
Thankfully, I know just the man to help me figure it out.
Purposeful strides brought her to the door separating her from Hugh, and with a fortifying breath, Clara passed through the barrier, walking into her new future.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bloody hell.
Hugh stared at the vision Clara made as she entered the room wearing the gown he’d specifically chosen for her. Through a bit of stealthy information-gathering, he’d been able to obtain Clara’s measurements with some modifications and commissioned a slew of silk and lace undergarments. This pink confection glided over her lush curves, outlining the feminine hills and valleysand causing an immediate hardening of his cock.
“How lovely you are,” he murmured, pleased by the innocent flush blooming from her chest tohercheeks. “While you were changing, I thought I’d get more comfortable before our dinner as well.” Hugh gestured to his loose trousers and partially open linen shirt. “Shall we dine?”
She dipped her head in a regal nod before pausing at the sight of only one chair and a table set with food lining the edges, a marked emptiness at the center. Foreheadwrinklingin confusion, Clara asked, “Where will you sit?”
“We’ll share a seat, of course.” He lowered into the plush leather armchair, a hand catching her wrist and gently pulling until she tumbled into his lap with a gasp.
“But how… Why…” She fumbled over the words, confusion written in the lines around her midnight blue eyes.
Adjusting Clara’s position until her bottom rubbed against hisswollenerection, he draped her legs over one of the chair arms while stabilizing her with his chest. “Because feeding you will be easier this way. I told you that your cooperation and obedience will be necessary for what I have planned.Over the course of this weekyou will be mine in all ways: to care for, to pleasure, toown.”
“But I’m perfectly capable of lifting a spoon.”
“That’s not the point. It pleases me to serve you, and you want to please me, don’t you?”
“Yes…” Various expressions of concern, befuddlement, and determination painted her delicate features. “I suppose other women have agreed to this sort of arrangement?”
Choosing to admit this was a novel experience for him as well, he said, “No. I’ve never wanted this from any other woman.”
“Then why me?”
A reasonable question with an unreasonable answer.
“Something about you, little lamb, brings out the possessive protector in me. The barbaric Neanderthal who needs to own every part of his woman—from nourishment to more… physical satisfaction.”
Clara searched his expression for more, the outer edges of her eyes crinkling as she studied him. “But I’m not technically yours.”
“For the next week you are, and that’s all that really matters. Now, are you ready to comply or shall we end before ever starting?” The dare lay thick between them—her first test. They could talk or he could demonstrate his needs to her, and Hugh knew which one he preferred.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll concede to your request.”
Reaching past her arm, he pointed towards several dishes. “Excellent. Would you prefer fruit or cheese first?”
“I get to choose?”
Chuckling, he replied, “I’m not a dictator. I won’t force you to eat something you dislike; I care about your wants and needs.”
“What a welcome change,” she mumbled, but he heard the odd statement anyway. “Fruit, please.”
