Chapter 9 Raphael #2
Let her wonder. Let her dread. Let her imagine all the terrible things I might do to her.
None of them would come close to what I actually had planned.
The hour passed slowly. I returned to my quarters and sat in the leather chair by the window, watching darkness settle over the garden. Somewhere in the east wing, she was unpacking. Showering, perhaps. Choosing what to wear. Steeling herself for whatever came next.
I could have summoned her immediately. Could have dragged her to my room the moment she walked through the door. But anticipation was its own pleasure, and I wanted her nerves frayed, her imagination running wild with possibilities.
When the clock struck nine, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Hesitant. Stopping outside my door.
She knocked at exactly nine.
I made her wait. Counted off thirty seconds in my head, savoring the anticipation. She would be standing outside my door, hand still raised, wondering if I’d heard, if she should knock again, if this was some test she was already failing.
“Enter.”
The door opened slowly. She’d changed since her arrival, into something simple and modest. Dark jeans, a plain white blouse buttoned to the throat. A shield. As if covering herself completely would protect her from what was coming.
The wolf wanted to tear it off with his teeth.
“Close the door behind you.”
She did. The soft click of the latch sounded very final.
“Come here.”
She crossed the room. Her steps were careful, measured. She stopped a few feet away, close enough that I could see the pulse jumping in her throat, the way her hands were clenched at her sides. Close enough that her scent wrapped around me like a physical touch.
I let the silence stretch until she shifted her weight, uncomfortable.
“Kneel.”
Her eyes flashed. There it was. That defiance I’d glimpsed in my office, quick and bright before fear smothered it.
“I said kneel.”
She hesitated. I waited. I was very good at waiting.
Slowly, her knees bent. She sank to the floor in front of my chair, her face flushing with humiliation. The sight of her there, on her knees before me, sent a bolt of dark satisfaction through my chest.
Yes. The wolf was purring. Ours. Where she belongs.
I rose from my chair and circled her. She stayed in position, trembling slightly but holding the pose. Her scent was stronger now, mixed with the sharp copper note of fear. But underneath that, something else. Arousal, faint but unmistakable.
Interesting.
“Look at me.”
She raised her head. Those eyes. Dark and defiant despite the fear. She was trying so hard to be brave, this little girl who’d sold herself to save her father’s legacy.
I crouched in front of her, close enough to count her eyelashes. Close enough to hear the catch in her breath when I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then let my fingers trail down to grip the back of her neck. Not hard. Just enough pressure to remind her who was in control.
“You told me in my office that you’d never been fucked.” I let the crude word hang between us, watching her flinch. “That boys had touched you. Kissed you. Nothing more.”
The flush deepened, spreading down her neck. She remembered that conversation. Good.
“But I want to know something else now.” I reached out and traced a finger along her jaw, feeling her tremble. “I want to know what you’ve imagined. When you’re alone at night, what do you think about?”
Her eyes went wide. This was worse than the factual questions I’d asked before, and she knew it. Facts could be recited. Fantasies were private.
“I don’t… I don’t think about anything.”
“Liar.” I kept my voice soft. “Everyone thinks about something. Do you touch yourself, Lena? Do you slide your fingers between your thighs and imagine a man’s hands on you?”
Her face was flushed red now, her breathing ragged. She couldn’t meet my eyes.
“Have you ever made yourself come?”
A tiny nod. Barely perceptible.
Something hot and possessive tightened in my chest. The wolf was howling.
“And when you did,” I continued, leaning closer until my lips nearly brushed her ear, “whose face did you see? The boy from that empty classroom? Some movie star? Or did you imagine a stranger? Someone dark and dangerous who took what he wanted?”
She shuddered. Didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
I pulled back, satisfied. Innocent, yes. But not without curiosity. Not without hunger buried beneath all that fear.
I was going to be her first. Her only. And the darkness she’d fantasized about was nothing compared to what I would actually do to her.
Ours. The wolf agreed. No one else. Only us. Always.
“Stand up. Remove your clothes.”
Her eyes widened. “Here? Now?”
“Did you expect privacy?” I rose, watching her scramble to her feet.
“You signed a contract giving me access to your body. There is no privacy between us anymore. When I want to see you, I will see you. When I want to touch you, I will touch you. Your body is mine now. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”
Her fingers shook as they went to the buttons of her blouse. One by one, she undid them, revealing a plain white bra beneath. The blouse slipped off her shoulders, pooled at her feet. Then her hands went to the waist of her jeans.
“Slower.”
She obeyed. The jeans came down, revealing matching white cotton panties. Simple. Practical. Probably the least sexy underwear she owned, chosen on purpose to shield herself against me.
I didn’t care. The sight of her standing there in her plain underwear, arms crossed over her stomach, was more arousing than any lace or silk could have been. There was something about her vulnerability, her obvious discomfort, that made the wolf purr with satisfaction.
“Arms at your sides.”
She dropped them. Her breathing was ragged now, her chest rising and falling with each quick breath.
“Remove the rest.”
The bra came off first. Her breasts were small, perfectly shaped with pink nipples that hardened in the cool air of the room. Then the panties. She stepped out of them and stood naked before me, her hands twitching at her sides like she wanted to cover herself but didn’t dare.
I looked.
I took my time, letting my gaze travel over every inch of her like I was memorizing a map.
The delicate lines of her collarbone, the hollow at the base of her throat where her pulse fluttered wildly.
The soft swell of her breasts with those pretty pink tips, pebbled tight from the cool air or from arousal.
I couldn’t tell which, and that uncertainty made me want to touch her, to test, to find out.
But I didn’t touch. Not yet.
The dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the flat plane of her stomach with its delicate navel.
The dark triangle of hair between her thighs, hiding the cunt I would eventually claim.
The long lines of her legs, the delicate bones of her ankles, the painted toenails she’d done for herself before coming here.
She was shaking now, trembling with cold or fear or both. But she didn’t cover herself. Didn’t beg me to stop looking. Just stood there, chin lifted, enduring my inspection with what was left of her pride.
I admired that. The wolf admired that.
Strong, he murmured. Worthy. Our mate is worthy.
The wolf was howling. Claim her. Take her. She’s ours, why are we waiting?
I stepped closer. Close enough to feel the heat of her skin. Close enough to watch goosebumps rise on her arms. Close enough to smell her arousal, faint but growing, mixing with her fear.
“You’re wet.”
She flinched like I’d slapped her. The flush spread down her chest.
“Don’t bother denying it. I can smell it.” I circled behind her, letting my breath ghost across her shoulder. “Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet. Say it.”
“Say what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“That you’re wet. That standing here, naked and trembling while I look at you, is making your cunt ache.” I stopped directly behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of my body without touching. “Say it, Lena.”
A long pause. I could hear her heartbeat hammering.
“I’m… I’m wet.” The words came out broken, humiliated.
“Good girl.” I stepped around to face her again. “Remember that. Remember how your body betrayed you the very first night. It won’t be the last time.”
“You’re going to earn every penny I paid for you,” I said quietly.
She said nothing. But I saw the way her jaw tightened. The defiance, still there beneath the humiliation.
“Get dressed. We’re having dinner.”
The confusion on her face was gratifying. She’d expected something else. Expected me to throw her on the bed and take her right there.
I would. Eventually. But not yet. Not until she was desperate for it.
She scrambled back into her clothes with none of the grace of removing them. I watched, enjoying the way her hands shook, the way she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Follow me.”
I led her through the manor’s long corridors, past doors she’d learn to fear. Her footsteps echoed behind me, quick and nervous. I didn’t look back. Let her take in the grandeur, the cold elegance, the maze of rooms she would navigate for the next year.
The dining room was set for two. Intimate. Candlelight flickering in silver holders. A meal Alice had prepared laid out on fine china.
I sat at the head of the table and gestured to the chair at my right hand. Not across from me, where an equal would sit. Beside me. Where I could reach her.
She sat, eyeing the food like she expected it to be poisoned.
“Eat.”
She reached for her fork. I caught her wrist.
“No.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ll feed you tonight.”
The look she gave me was almost worth the entire arrangement. Disbelief. Outrage. A flash of that defiance I was beginning to crave. “That’s ridiculous. I can feed myself.”
“You can.” I picked up a piece of bread, tore off a small piece, held it to her lips. “But tonight, you won’t.”
“I’m not a child.”