Page 55
Story: King of Desire
“Good.” Then he moves back to the food, bringing the tray over to the bed. He unfolds legs on the bottom and rests it across my lap.
There’s yogurt, fruit, nuts, some sort of shrimp bowl with quinoa, and a few other assorted goodies. It’s tons of food and I stare down at it as Triston sits on the other side of the tray. “I haven’t had anything to eat either. Thought we’d share.”
I nod, swallowing down a lump. This was not the evening I pictured at all. I thought that right about now, I’d be having the worst night of my life. And that thought keeps me from eating as he scoops out some shrimp and quinoa.
As he chews, his brows lift. When he swallows, he points his fork at the food. “Eat.”
I lift the fork but then set it down. “When I asked you if you were saving me, you said,I bought you. What did you mean by that?”
He’s just put another bite in his mouth, but he pauses, not even chewing, before he starts again and then swallows. “You signed a contract.”
“All right,” I feel my stomach drop, because I know what he’s not saying. “Does that mean you had to pay for me?”
He doesn’t look up at me as he takes another bite. “Something like that.”
I shake my head, biting at my lips. “I’m so sorry, Triston.”
He looks up at me then. “Don’t be sorry, luv. Money is the one thing I’ve got plenty of. But I do want you to promise me something.”
I nod as he reaches out to cup my jaw in his palm, “Whether you work here or not, the next time you’re really in trouble, who are you going to ask for help?”
“You.”
“Good girl.” And then he leans over the tray and kisses me again. I sink into the feel of his mouth, the warmth of his hand.I could wrap myself around him if I thought he’d let me. “Now eat.”
He sits back down on the other side of the tray, and I pick up my fork. “Are you going to spank me if I don’t?” My backside is still sore.
His eyes burn into mine. “Don’t tempt me.”
Heat fills my cheeks. Because there was something about being over his shoulder, of having him claim me like that in front of all those men, it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it also made me feel really feminine or something.
I pick up the yogurt and take a bite, the flavor delicious without being too sweet, the texture of the yogurt velvety and perfect.
“If you paid for this night, does that mean that we’re…” I taper off, but his gaze intensifies as he makes this noise in his throat.
“You’re mine, Honeyeh. Tonight. Yes. Beyond that is a discussion for the morning.”
My stomach jumps, a million butterflies fluttering in my chest.
He’s not sending me home tonight. I set the yogurt down again, but his glare intensifies. “We’ve got all night, there is no need to rush and no need to be nervous. Now eat.”
All day long, people have been force-feeding me. But as he hands me the bowl of shrimp, the one he was just eating from, I’m struck by the domesticity of the action.
“Do you…do you do this often?”
“What?”
“Feed the women you sleep with?” I don’t know why I ask. I shouldn’t care, and it’s none of my business. But I remember Victoria’s words. I’m one in a long line.
“Never.” Then he pushes a fork toward me.
My brow furrows. I know that at some point, I’m going to run into Triston’s rules. But he keeps saying things that make me feel…special. Which is so dangerous. It’s just going to hurt more when our time together ends because I believed I might be different.
But I can barely keep that little seed of hope from sprouting.
I take a bite of the shrimp, the flavors dancing on my tongue. “Wow. This is amazing.”
He smiles. “One of the many benefits of money. It might not buy happiness, but it does provide delicious food.”
There’s yogurt, fruit, nuts, some sort of shrimp bowl with quinoa, and a few other assorted goodies. It’s tons of food and I stare down at it as Triston sits on the other side of the tray. “I haven’t had anything to eat either. Thought we’d share.”
I nod, swallowing down a lump. This was not the evening I pictured at all. I thought that right about now, I’d be having the worst night of my life. And that thought keeps me from eating as he scoops out some shrimp and quinoa.
As he chews, his brows lift. When he swallows, he points his fork at the food. “Eat.”
I lift the fork but then set it down. “When I asked you if you were saving me, you said,I bought you. What did you mean by that?”
He’s just put another bite in his mouth, but he pauses, not even chewing, before he starts again and then swallows. “You signed a contract.”
“All right,” I feel my stomach drop, because I know what he’s not saying. “Does that mean you had to pay for me?”
He doesn’t look up at me as he takes another bite. “Something like that.”
I shake my head, biting at my lips. “I’m so sorry, Triston.”
He looks up at me then. “Don’t be sorry, luv. Money is the one thing I’ve got plenty of. But I do want you to promise me something.”
I nod as he reaches out to cup my jaw in his palm, “Whether you work here or not, the next time you’re really in trouble, who are you going to ask for help?”
“You.”
“Good girl.” And then he leans over the tray and kisses me again. I sink into the feel of his mouth, the warmth of his hand.I could wrap myself around him if I thought he’d let me. “Now eat.”
He sits back down on the other side of the tray, and I pick up my fork. “Are you going to spank me if I don’t?” My backside is still sore.
His eyes burn into mine. “Don’t tempt me.”
Heat fills my cheeks. Because there was something about being over his shoulder, of having him claim me like that in front of all those men, it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it also made me feel really feminine or something.
I pick up the yogurt and take a bite, the flavor delicious without being too sweet, the texture of the yogurt velvety and perfect.
“If you paid for this night, does that mean that we’re…” I taper off, but his gaze intensifies as he makes this noise in his throat.
“You’re mine, Honeyeh. Tonight. Yes. Beyond that is a discussion for the morning.”
My stomach jumps, a million butterflies fluttering in my chest.
He’s not sending me home tonight. I set the yogurt down again, but his glare intensifies. “We’ve got all night, there is no need to rush and no need to be nervous. Now eat.”
All day long, people have been force-feeding me. But as he hands me the bowl of shrimp, the one he was just eating from, I’m struck by the domesticity of the action.
“Do you…do you do this often?”
“What?”
“Feed the women you sleep with?” I don’t know why I ask. I shouldn’t care, and it’s none of my business. But I remember Victoria’s words. I’m one in a long line.
“Never.” Then he pushes a fork toward me.
My brow furrows. I know that at some point, I’m going to run into Triston’s rules. But he keeps saying things that make me feel…special. Which is so dangerous. It’s just going to hurt more when our time together ends because I believed I might be different.
But I can barely keep that little seed of hope from sprouting.
I take a bite of the shrimp, the flavors dancing on my tongue. “Wow. This is amazing.”
He smiles. “One of the many benefits of money. It might not buy happiness, but it does provide delicious food.”
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