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“Grab one for you anyway. No, grab you two.” The bathroom door opened, and she rolled her eyes. “Add another. Weakling can’t starve to death on me yet. And a water.” Charlotte pointed to the floor next to the shackles. “Weakling, sit. I won’t chain you up yet, but you will be restrained while I sleep. I don’t trust you not to run.”
My Mistress’s voice faded as I went through the dark living room. I flipped on the light, opening the stainless-steel refrigerator. The thing was completely stocked with vegetables of every kind. There were fruits, water, and power drinks. There were even protein bars, a carton of eggs, tons of yogurts. Most of the food rested in fancy Tupperware, keeping them fresh, but it was the organization that shocked me. Had Charlotte done this, or had someone else? Her. It had to have been. I needed to remember the order. It was perfection, and I didn’t want to screw anything up.
“Slave.” The yell had me grabbing four yogurts and a water. I searched through the drawers, finally finding the spoons. As I jogged back to the room, I nearly swore under my breath. The fucking light.
“As my Mistress wanted.” I handed her the yogurt, spoon, and water, not even looking over to the girl as I tossed the small container and a spoon in her vicinity. “And mine.” I said, lifting my two. “But I have to go back to turn off the light. Do you need anything else while I’m in there?”
Full lips twisted, and she narrowed her eyes. “Actually, yes, one of the packs of granola. The vanilla and almond. Not the ones with the chocolate chunks; it’s too late for that. That’ll be for breakfast.”
“I’ll remember your preferences.”
“Yes, you will, but we won’t be eating here in the morning. We’re going out. I have some shopping to do, and I want to inquire on a tattoo artist. I’m not even sure this place has one.”
Her words stopped me in my tracks. Was I getting to go out so soon? It almost didn’t seem real after the last eleven months of mainly staying inside one room. Was I ready for that? For the people? For…her? What if I messed up? What if I made her angry?
Calm and stay composed.
I cleared my throat at the voice, pulling myself together. “They have one. I saw it on my tour.” I thought back, trying to recall the whereabouts. “I believe it’s two blocks down the main road, to the left. It was next to a seafood bar and grill.”
“A bar and grill. Hmm. Great, we know where we’re going for lunch.” She stopped, her head tilting as she took me in. “You’re nervous. That’s not very reassuring to me, slave.”
Straightening, the anger came back, more at myself than anything.
“There. Right there. Hold that look.”
“Look?”
Something close to fascination had my Mistress tossing her unopened yogurt and drink to the bed as she headed towards me. I kept the anger present, testing the emotion as she pulled me deeper into the room and began to circle around.
“You can be feared. A beautiful fear. And sexy, but…there has to be something more. Depth. Truth.” She came back around to face me. “Death. You won’t be a killer until I make you one. That aura has to be strong. It’ll project like an alarm to anyone that gets close. We’re far from that man. This person…this slave…that’s not him yet, but if you’re good. If you can act to the point where you believe it, we might have the perfect man. Slave,” she corrected. “Man-slave. You get it. Get out and turn off that light. And don’t forget my granola.”
Man-slave. More than a slave. A man.Her man.Or, no, she’d said perfect man.
I threw open the pantry door, scanning the shelves until I grabbed the package. Perfect man. That’s what she wanted out of me: a hot, dark, tattooed protector that would kill for her.Kill…if she meant anyone other than slaves, that would get me a death sentence. We were already warned it was certain death if we attacked a Master, but if something was happening to my Mistress to where she needed me, I could defend her. Yes. I could kill for her.
Hitting the light, I entered the room, catching the weakling skittering across the floor to return to her seat from the small trash can by the door. Instinct brought my eyes right where they belonged, right to Charlotte. The moment I got to the bed and handed her the small circular package of granola, she pointed to the wall.
“You’ll eat right there and then you’ll shower and return. There’s extra blankets and pillows in the closet. You’ll sleep against that wall. The bed is too good for you right now. You’ll get your place beside me when you earn it. If I awake at any time and you’re not there, you’re in trouble.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Damn. Disappointment weighed heavily in my stomach. Had I thought I’d be able to be close to her? Smell her? Be there for her if she wanted me? Shit. She didn’t want sex. Not yet, but I sure as hell did. After the taste I had of her earlier, I could have spent hours with my face buried between her legs. She made the softest sounds. The sweet moans echoed in my ears making me harder than I’d been all day. And there were moments I constantly had to reign in the lust. Every time she touched me it was pure agony. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be used to it after so long. What I did know was now that I’d gotten contact, I couldn’t go without it.
I sat down with my yogurt, keeping my stare on my food as I went through the tiny servings like they were nothing. I could do better. It was the only thing that kept repeating in my head. It may take time, but I could do this.
Standing to throw the yogurts away, I stopped in my tracks at my Mistress’s look. Should I have announced my sudden move? Had I done it too aggressively? I was aggravated at myself for not winning her over more than I had.
“I’m sorry. I’m going to get some clothes and take a shower now. Can I get something for you before I go, Mistress?”
“Not yet. Take your shower but try to hurry. It’s late. I’m getting tired.”
I nodded, taking a step towards her and outstretching my hand for the empty yogurt container. She looked down, blinking back the surprise. She did appear tired as she handed it over and leaned back to rest against the pillow.
“Lock the weakling up on your way.” She yawned. “And grab the ‘thing’ a blanket. We don’t want her ruining our big day tomorrow by having to search her out.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
By the time I got the extra pillows and blankets and was laying mine out in my spot, I dreaded going to the other slave. I could ignore her all day long, but I wasn’t immune to her presence. And I knew her fate. It rested with me.
