Chapter 7 What I Deserve
What I Deserve
Davidson
Leo had bruises on his chest. I sat leaning on the headboard, holding him sideways in my lap, and he slept with his head on my biceps, his arms folded like a child’s.
He felt so small and fragile in my arms. But the devil down underneath knew the boy was driving me mad.
So beautiful, so damned pigheaded, audacious, and just…
infuriating. My reward for decades of waiting.
His eyelids moved in his sleep, pale lashes fluttering, and he parted his lips on an exhale. Quiet and asleep, he looked otherworldly beautiful. It hurt to watch him.
By his collarbone, partially hidden under his folded arms, I could just glimpse a dark spot.
The marks I’d left on him. It must have hurt badly, but he’d come screaming his lungs out.
After I’d put him in his place, he fell asleep with a small smile on his stunning face. Goddammit, but my omega was a handful.
Leo enjoyed pain and punishment. His begging and the chain of orgasms he went through were proof enough.
Even so, I shouldn’t have done that. I’d acted on rage and desire, and it had been wrong.
I combed my fingers through his blond locks, and Leo nuzzled my pec in his sleep.
He seemed so meek and trusting now. Petting him, I looked my fill.
My darling mate.
Finally.
I skimmed my hand down his side, over his hip, until I rested my palm on his swollen little belly.
How long until his next heat? Would he want a baby?
Something told me I’d have a lot of convincing to do if I wanted Leo to give me a child soon.
Caressing his stomach, I ached with yearning, lust and hope, and small sparks of joy danced around my ribcage.
Slowly, he opened his blue eyes, looking right at me. I smiled so he knew I wasn’t angry with him anymore, but his face remained blank. He stared at me, unblinking, his mouth parted.
I caressed his cheek and kissed his forehead.
“How do you feel, darling?”
He frowned, studying me cautiously. “I’m good, thank you.”
His polite, quiet reply threw me. I’d have expected something snarky. Maybe he was just sleepy.
“It’s lunchtime. Are you hungry?”
I didn’t like the purplish circles under his eyes. Petting his cheek, I tried to gauge his expression, but he seemed half-asleep still.
“I…need to use the bathroom. Please.”
Please? Did he think I wouldn’t let him?
“Of course. Come.”
I got up, tugging him with me, except as soon as he was standing, he swayed. What the hell have I done to him?
“This way.”
Holding him around his back, I led him to the ensuite. Stupidly, I almost followed him inside. I stopped myself at the last second. He closed the door, and I leaned on the wall next to it, waiting.
The toilet flushed, water ran, and then…a loud thump.
Shit.
I burst inside to find Leo on his butt on the floor, gripping the edge of the sink. Fucking hell!
I knelt by him, cradling his face. “What happened? Did you hit your head?”
“No. Just got a little dizzy.” He blinked up at me, confused.
I quickly checked his head for injuries, but there was nothing. Hoisting him up in my arms, I carried him out of the bathroom. I was about to put him back to bed when I realized something.
“When was the last time you ate?”
He wrapped his arms around my neck, his hold weak like a kitten’s, and his head lolled on my shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
Sullivan, you stupid oaf.
“I need to shower first,” he murmured. “My thighs. They are crusty. Stuff’s coming out of me.”
Was there any alpha on the planet dumber than me? Since last night, I hadn’t given him anything but whiskey and cum. He was barely standing, bruised and dirty, and he thought he had to ask for permission to go to the bathroom.
Angry with myself like never before, I put him in the shower stall, and holding him to my chest, I set the water temperature.
I covered him in suds, massaging his back and ass, and he stood unmoving, holding on to my neck with both arms, his head resting against my chest. I washed his crease, rubbing his hole, and his breath hitched.
Of course, that made my dick throb. He sighed when my erection brushed his belly and even ran his fingers along the length.
I pulled his hand away. I couldn’t fuck him again before I fed him, dammit. He’d pass out on me.
I dried him and wrapped him in a bathrobe before grabbing a pair of sweats for myself. Enjoying how he clung to me, I carried him all the way to the downstairs kitchen. I sat him on a chair by the breakfast table and punched the button on the coffee maker.
“Do you drink coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Milk?”
“Yes please. No sugar.”
The politeness weirded me out.
“Any food allergies? Preferences?”
He shook his head, looking at the tabletop.
He sat like a schoolboy at a principal’s office.
And I realized, with a wave of anguish, that he must be terrified of me.
After last night, I feared myself. I averted my gaze and focused on the food.
First, I put a glass of juice in front of him, except he didn’t touch it.
“Leo, drink the juice.”
Without a word, he took the glass and drank half of it in one go. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice.
His quiet obedience was seriously messing with my head now. Maybe he was just tired? In any case, I’d feed him first.
My staff had restocked the fridge before the weekend, so I could make him a solid brunch. It took about twenty minutes, and for the whole time, Leo sat in silence, nursing his coffee.
He eyed the food, looking a little stunned as I served it. French toast, bacon, boiled eggs, cheeses, fruit salad, yogurt and granola, and a store-bought quiche I’d heated up.
“Is this okay?”
“I’ll never be able to eat all of this.”
“Take what you like.”
“Thank you.”
He put a piece of bacon on some toast and chewed it delicately. Seeing him eat brought me immediate relief. He’d be okay. I exhaled and dug in. I’d been starving.
With my encouragement, after finishing his toast, Leo ate a solid portion of yogurt with granola and fruit.
“Are you feeling better?”
He nodded, sniffing his second mug of coffee. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry.”
“I apologize for last night, Leo.”
That startled him. He looked up, his eyes wide. “For…which part?” he stammered.
Indeed. After all he’d been through, which part was I most sorry for?
Starting with the obvious, I pointed to his chest. “I left bruises all over you. I’m sorry.”
He looked down at his near-empty plate, silent.
I refrained from groaning with frustration.
“Leo, come here.”
He jerked at the command as if I’d shouted it at him. Pinning his blue eyes on me, he bit his lip, hesitating.
I attempted another smile, and to my great surprise, it worked. The chair squeaked when he pushed off the table. He shuffled toward me until he was close enough I could reach him. Then he stopped, standing in front of me with his head down.
Where was his sharp wit and defiance? I fucking broke him last night.
I took him by his waist and tugged him into my lap. Carefully, he straddled me, still looking down. I tipped his chin up. Color was slowly returning to his cheeks, and his eyes seemed more awake. I couldn’t decide which suited him best, his stubborn glare or this new, timid expression.
“Kiss me.”
Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.
I roped my arms around him, cupping his nape, and took over the tender kiss.
His fingers dove into my beard, and he sighed.
He tasted of banana and coffee. He melted into the kiss, his body recognizing its mate, even if his mind had to be reeling.
Then I tucked his head into the crook of my neck and held him tight.
“Have you eaten enough?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Are you still dizzy?”
“No.”
I stroked his back and thigh through the thick bathrobe.
The dragon wanted me to drag Leo upstairs and keep making him come until he forgot about fears and doubts. But guilt wouldn’t let me.
“How do you feel, Leo?”
“I’m okay.”
“I’ll need more details. Are you sore? Doesn’t it hurt?” I brushed my palm over his chest.
“No. There’s only this tension in my pecs, but it’s not unpleasant. I promise I’m not hurt.”
“Can I see?”
Averting his gaze, he slowly tugged the bathrobe down his shoulders. It scrunched up around his back and elbows, exposing his upper chest.
Oh, for the love of the universe. The purplish spots covering his torso made me want to kick myself. And the crescents at the base of his throat and on his shoulder—were those bite marks?
“I’m so sorry, Leo.”
“It doesn’t hurt. I swear. I liked what we did last night. I needed it.”
“I’ll be more careful.”
“I like it rough,” he murmured.
He did, I knew. I could bend him over the table right now, and he’d take it and thank me. But that wasn’t what he needed.
His pecs were rounded, his nipples hard and dark with blood. I kissed his collarbone, and he sucked in a breath. The scent of lover’s milk drifted from his skin.
“The tension you feel…” I cupped one pec and squeezed gently. “I can bring you relief. Do you want that?”
He gave a small nod.
Holding him around his waist, I lifted him and sat him on the edge of the table. Then I took one nipple into my mouth. The flavor burst on my tongue, the milk flowing immediately, and Leo gasped.
Swallowing the delicious liquid, I leaned back to check his expression. He was staring at me with wide eyes, his lips parted. I brushed my thumb over his wet nipple.
“It’s called lover’s milk. All dragon mates have it during the first few weeks. Your body’s changing for me.”
Not saying anything, he ran his hand down my jaw. When I leaned in for more, he cupped my nape, gingerly pulling me to his chest. Quiet moans spilled from his throat.