Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Kris
Kris stared down at her plate, dismayed at how much food there was left to eat. He couldn’t seriously expect her to have all of that, could he? Yet one glance at his clenched jaw confirmed that was indeed his demand, and she knew he had both the means and the intent to back up the expectation.
“Tell me between mouthfuls.” He motioned for her to continue as though he was doing her a fucking favor. “What was my first rule?”
What is this, a test?
If he expected her to remember the list of ridiculous rules he’d conjured, he had to be kidding. So much had happened since he went over the inane regulations that she could scarcely remember half of them.
“Erm.” She stalled for time, collecting a piece of cold fish. The dish was delicious when it first appeared, but it had lost its appeal with its temperature. “I must obey you, Master.”
That one was easy enough to recollect. He’d gone on about it endlessly since she’d woken up, reinforcing the rule by compelling her to do things she didn’t want to do, and even spanking her.
She shifted at the memory, conscious that her ass was still dealing with the consequences of his relentless palm.
“Very good.” His smile lit up his face, and even though she’d have loved to have said she despised him, it wasn’t true.
Kronos was as handsome as he was strong, and the fact that he’d told her he had no intention of killing either her or Shelley had done him no harm, either. She wasn’t entirely sure she could trust what he said, but he’d seemed sincere at the time, his words reassuring her.
Lifting the fork to her lips, she nibbled on the fish, wondering whether he’d be more angered by her forgetting his so-called rules or by not finishing her oversized meal.
Kris couldn’t see how she was going to eat all of the remaining food, but more importantly, she didn’t see why she should.
Eating because he said so was nonsense. It was like she’d told him; she wasn’t a child, and she didn’t need to be coddled.
“Rule two,” he continued. “Impress me.”
Shit.
Her stomach lurched as she attempted to recall what his second preposterous rule was. Chasing a group of lentils around her plate, she scowled. Not only couldn’t she recollect, but the more she struggled, the more irritated the idea made her.
What did it matter what his fucking rules were? She was grateful that he’d intervened on the street, but she hadn’t asked to go there with him and become his sycophant.
“I don’t remember rule two, Master.”
She flinched at the admission, knowing there would likely be consequences for her alleged transgression, yet still more annoyed that she needed to go through the sorry performance.
Grown women didn’t have to be naked if they didn’t choose to be, they didn’t have to eat meals they didn’t want, and they certainly didn’t need to comply with spontaneous lists of rules.
“Shame.” His stern tone spoke of repercussions she wouldn’t like. Her trepidation tightened at the sound, knotting in her stomach until she felt sick. “What about rule three?”
“Master, please.” Putting down her fork, she tried to reason with him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember. It’s been a stressful few hours, and I haven’t committed everything to memory.”
He could understand that, surely. He might have been prepared to take a woman into his custody, but she’d had no preparation for the things that had transpired.
She should still be in shock about her abduction, but where there should have been cold panic, there was still only simmering apprehension.
“I encourage you to think, little one.” He shifted forward, leaning on the table between them. “There will be ramifications for each rule you forget.”
She closed her eyes, wondering how much more of his overbearing bullshit she could stand.
The fact that he said he wasn’t planning on harming Shelley went a long way to allay her fears about his intentions, but she still couldn’t reconcile the way he thought he could just stride into her life and take over.
She was a student. She had a PhD to complete and a life to live.
She couldn’t just stay there, eating huge portions, taking the brunt of his palm, and screwing him—however good the last part sounded.
“Kristina!” His sharp tone drew her eyes open in a flash. “Do I need to come over there and help you?”
Glaring in his direction, she collected her fork and pierced a piece of tender stem broccoli. How was she going to make him understand that overeating only made her nauseous?
“Rule three.” He tapped his long fingers against the black wood. “I would think that one had stuck in your memory.”
She sighed, straining to try and remember what the stupid third rule was, but something about the way he expressed his exasperation resonated.
The main thing she remembered about the time he’d elaborated his regulations was the fact that he’d denied her the orgasm she deserved.
He’d said that she would only come if he agreed.
Her toes curled against the cool tiles. Was that what he expected her to admit?
“I only come if you say I can, Master.” She popped the broccoli into her mouth immediately, refusing to meet his eyes while she chewed.
“Better.” Unbelievably, he still sounded pissed off with her, though she could hardly grasp how when she was the one being forced to humiliate herself. “And finally, rule four.”
Finishing the piece of broccoli in her mouth, her attention slid over his honed body. Who was the guy who’d swept into her life like a cyclone and turned everything on its head? Who was he to tell her what to do?
“I do not lie to you, Master.”
That answer came more easily than she’d anticipated, mainly because it was the only one of the four she actually aligned with.
Kris made it a habit to never lie to anybody intentionally.
She prided herself on her honesty and integrity.
That was why she’d apologized to him via text message, even when he’d sent her that first intimidating reply. She was a good person.
“Okay.” He leaned back in his seat, apparently placated. “Three out of four isn’t bad, little one.”
She shoveled another fork of lentils past her lips, thankful there had only been four freaking rules as she forced her gaze back to her glass.
“However, you did forget one.” He paused, dangling the possibility of retaliation in the air. “And it’s an important one, Kristina.”
Resisting the instinct to roll her eyes, she gripped her fork tighter.
Was that how it was going to be? He claimed he wanted to care for and look after her, but then reduced her to someone who would obey him and parrot his rules on command.
And when, inevitably, she got something wrong, he would forever be able to torment her with the threat of some dreadful consequence.
I can’t live like this.
Tears burned in her eyes as she attempted to reconcile her dazed feelings. It might take her days, or even weeks, to find a way out of Kronos’ white fortress. How was she supposed to cope with his twisted games until then?
“I don’t know what to say, Master.”
Though as she placed her fork down, she accepted there was only going to be one acceptable response. It was the same one she’d parroted multiple times already; she would have to apologize.
“I’m sorry I didn’t remember them all.”
“You’re going to learn to remember them,” he promised her. “But don’t worry, I’m going to help you.”
Her gaze flitted to his. He was going to help her?
That didn’t sound much like Kronos. The only times he’d genuinely helped were when he’d frightened off her attackers, and then when he’d bestowed the breathtaking climax.
Otherwise, he’d been nothing but a bane, constantly whining about obedience as though she were a dog.
“Help me how, Master?” She almost regretted asking.
“By giving you plenty of time to memorize them.” His lips stretched wide, and something about the smile was predatory.
“Oh.” She glanced at the remainder of her food, anxiety snaking in her stomach. “Are you going to punish me?”
She could hardly believe she’d said the words out loud. Punish her? She’d done nothing more than her best in extraordinary circumstances. If that wasn’t good enough for him, that was his problem, yet somehow, she had the feeling he was going to make it hers.
“I wouldn’t call it a punishment.” He rose to his feet, reminding her of just how damn tall he was. “More like an outcome.”
An outcome? What was the difference?
“You didn’t remember my rules.” He dropped the towel over the arm of his chair. “So, I’ll give you an opportunity to learn them properly.”
“Thank you.” She stared at him, not believing for a moment that it was the end of the matter. He looked far too pleased with himself as he walked toward her.
“You’re welcome.” Looming by the side of her chair, his gaze fell on her plate. “Time to finish up, little one. You’ve just added a new item to our agenda before you go back to bed.”
Her muscles tensed at the thought of what that item might be, but she said nothing further. There was already another battle in progress; the question of what she had managed to eat.
“Please, Master.” She was starting to sound like a broken record. “I really can’t eat any more. I feel ill.”
Her hand rose to her tummy to cement the point, and she watched as his attention glided between her face and the small number of lentils left on her plate.
“You have a choice.” He sounded wistful. “Finish up, or I’ll be forced to add yet another item to our agenda.”
“More time to learn, Master?” she queried, trying not to focus on how close she currently was to his semi-aroused dick.
She shouldn’t have concerned herself with the state of his arousal, but frankly, the organ was distracting.
Shielded by the back of her chair until that moment as he folded his arms across his chest and took a step toward the table, it came into view.
Her gaze slid to it out of instinct, her pussy clenching at the tantalizing thought of how he felt inside her.
Either Kronos enjoyed tormenting her with his futile rules and repercussions, or that was just how his cock looked limp.
She couldn’t decide which outcome worried her the most.
“More time,” he confirmed, thankfully not commenting on where she was staring. “But I can guarantee you won’t appreciate the addition.”
Oh, God.
She glanced at her plate, wondering if she could force the final few mouthfuls of food in. She had no clue what he had in mind for the so-called outcome, but she trusted him when he said she wouldn’t like it. The task was a penance, after all, whatever he chose to call it.
She wanted to tell him to shove it. There was no reason he should have been able to tell her what to do. No way he should have been setting rules he could create ‘outcomes’ for when she forgot them, but she realized grimly that that boat had sailed.
Right or wrong, she was where she was, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, the giant brooding at her side could make her comply.
That realization settled over her like poisonous gas.
Whether she ate the lentils or recalled the rules, he was going to have his way, regardless.
Unease furled in her tummy, riling the low-lying nausea that the huge meal had provoked.
“I really do feel sick, Master.” She shook her head. “I can’t eat any more.”
A wave of his hand saw the dish in front of her vanish before her eyes. “Have it your way.”