Chapter 12
twelve
Gretel never took another room. I’d tried to set her up in one, only for her to show up at my door again, dragging her pillow in one hand and wearing her night gown.
“It’s too dark in there,” she declared. “I can’t sleep well if I’m tossing and turning from fright.”
“And how do you expect me to sleep well?” I asked, incredulously. Only Gretel could march into a person’s room and expect to stay there.
“What do you mean?” Gretel blinked innocently as she looked over her shoulder, already climbing up into the bed.
“The bed is too small!”
“We made it work last night.” She wiggled under the covers and patted the slim space that would become my side of the bed.
And that was that.
No matter how many times I grumbled under my breath or outright snapped at her about picking a different room, she’d smile cheekily and get into bed.
At least on the nights she’d come to bed.
Deep down, I knew she feared Rufus Clinemell because she kept herself hidden in the Manor during the day. Baz was too popular and guests came over often, but as far as anyone was aware, Blackwell Manor only had one servant.
Gretel began to slip out into the garden, not minding the chilly nights. She’d stare up at the stars, spending hours out there sometimes.
She’d normally come into our room, doing her best to softly crawl into bed by which I mean she’d accidentally knee my stomach and then whisper ‘Sorry!’
But time ticked by one night, growing later and later.
At first, I felt annoyance. She knew she’d be tired the next day if she spent too much longer outside.
And then those nerves fizzled away into worry.
She could be silly, but she took her work seriously.
Something might have been wrong, and that’s what prevented her from coming inside.
I pushed the covers off, pretending to huff when really pin pricks of fear danced along my skin. In just my night slip, I hurried back to the kitchen.
The side door opened, and I took it as a sign that the Manor wanted me to go looking for Gretel.
I found her with Baz.
I can still remember the burst of nerves buzzing inside. My heart squeezed tight and then pumped faster. I didn’t notice the chill of the night breeze, but it didn’t matter. I was frozen, inside and out.
How could I be surprised? Baz and Gretel got on. They’d make faces at one another, little looks that said they understood what the other one meant. They both loved to laugh.
Really, it had been weeks of dancing around it.
Baz kissed me most days, always running his hands down my naked backside. But Gretel’s presence had slowed things down.
And all the while I had seen how wonderfully they got on together.
Even now, I can remember the horror slicing through me while I crept closer, the large leafy tree in the garden providing me cover in the dark.
“P-please,” Gretel whimpered.
Her voice caused my stomach to tighten. She stood with her back to me, Baz holding her by the neck. I could hear the tears in her voice, but they were twisted. The one word sharp. Begging, I realized.
I watched Baz’s face. He wore his blank, cold mask. The one that only appeared when he was like this. Ready to dictate his demands.
He shoved her to the ground, her knees hitting the grass, and my insides knotted at the harsh movements.
Gretel’s hands worked Baz’s trousers open.
“Open wide,” Baz demanded, and my guts twisted again. Because he was talking to her, telling her what to do and enjoying it. He groaned when she took him in her mouth. He appeared undone just from that alone.
A terrible, secret part of me wished I could get closer. That I could study Gretel’s mouth around Baz’s cock.
Or maybe I just wanted to get closer to her so I could yell. So I could rub Gretel’s nose in the dirt and then ask her if she liked being a dirty little whore.
It all terribly sifted through me. These things I liked yet hated. Baz tugged at Gretel’s hair, and my own scalp tingled, my toes curling in my slippers.
Gretel made some little noise, choking.
“Take it,” Baz grunted, and my pussy clenched.
His hips jerked as he savagely thrust his cock in and out of Gretel’s mouth.
She kept making noise, her whimpers and cries mixing with his growls.
“You told me you wanted my cock, so you’re going to take it.
All of it.” His hips slammed against her.
“Good girl, love. Such a good little pet.”
I took a step back, physically appalled.
“Fuck!” Baz threw his head back, his grip twisting in Gretel’s hair.
It seemed a likely conclusion he’d help her achieve pleasure next, and I ran back inside, unable to take it.
My slippers flew off when I entered my bedroom.
I ran for the cover of my blankets. But when I ducked underneath, it wasn’t sobs they smothered.
But rather the cry of choked relief when my hand reached under my nightgown.
It took a shamefully short amount of time before I came, my thoughts purely on Baz and Gretel.
Gretel crept in later. My head remained under the covers, not that she probably realized I was hiding.
I told myself I hated her. It was easier to take out my anger and hurt on Gretel, the interloper, and not Baz, who I thought had treated me special. She didn’t notice, or didn’t act any different if she did, the next morning.
She even got out of bed before me, tugging her night gown off and marching around naked as she searched for her black dress.
It’s when I noticed the bruise on her ass.
For a second, I floated, not feeling anything, that’s how great my surprise was. Then I dropped into a pit of rage.
I made myself scarce during breakfast, telling them I needed to mop the east wing, and I did. Aggressively. All my thoughts and feelings swirled around with the soapy water as I scrubbed.
“Fairy,” Baz called.
I blew at my bangs, forcing the hair out of my eyes. I hadn’t allowed Gretel to help me braid it today, and I didn’t notice it much until that moment. I’d been so in my head.
“Fairy,” Baz said again, and my muscles ached as I turned to find him leaning against the wall. The sleeves of his blue button-down were rolled up, and he dangled a letter in his hands as he peered at me.
He wore a frown, but otherwise appeared casual. He nodded at me to follow him into his study.
I was allowed entry almost everywhere. His bedroom and the library. But I rarely came into his study. The place was set up to his liking. And by that I mean messy.
Papers lined the wide desk, a glass and decanter of an amber liquid set out on the edge. Maps filled the walls.
Baz moved a large ledger out of the way, storing a pen and inkwell in the drawer.
“I want your ass touching the desk,” he ordered.
Part of me wanted to turn up my nose. But I couldn’t when he used that voice. The tone both demanding and promising.
Blowing more hair off my face, I walked to the end of the desk. He shook his head, dropping into his leather chair, and motioned for me to come around the desk.
Quietly, I came to stand in front of his chair, his legs splayed to the side as he sprawled back. I lifted myself so I sat on the desk, repositioning my dress so my bare ass touched the cool wood.
I might have sat taller than him, but Baz’s silent but serious face could command armies.
The cut of his jaw was sharp, his eyes darkening as he looked up at me.
No glint of amusement sparked, and my mouth dried the longer he kept gazing at me.
My stomach tightened, and if I could have thought straight, I’d probably see that I was in trouble.
After a moment of stillness, he grabbed my right ankle and took off my boot. The sock next. He placed my foot on the arm of his chair and then moved to the left one.
Cool air hit my pussy as I found myself on display. Baz lifted my skirt higher, making sure he could see every inch of me.
His head bent forward, openly inspecting me. “I can’t tell you how much it pleases me to know you follow directions.”
“Better than Gretel?”
His head snapped up, but a second later, a long sigh slipped from him. He ran his hands up over my thighs, his fingers rubbing into the curves of my ass and waist.
“If you have something you’d like to speak to me about, then now is the time,” he said, and I knew he saw me last night.
The low-lying rage rose in me. “How could you do such a thing?”
And it wasn’t the scandal of finding them together. Of her bobbing in front of him as she sucked him off.
The bruise on her ass cheek hadn’t left my mind all morning.
Baz understood me. Because, for some reason, he always did.
“Would you believe me if I told you she liked it?”
His hands curled around my waist, keeping me in place.
“You can’t dislike Clinemell and then proceed to act like him,” I whispered furiously.
It was one of the few times I ever saw his face cloud up.
“I’ll ask you kindly to never compare me to that man again. Tangwystle, do you remember how I once told you I don’t take what’s not mine?”
I scoffed, “No, just what’s offered, then.”
His fingers dug into me, but I never thought once to ask him to let go. And after a few seconds, where I half wondered how badly of a yelling match this would become, his hands surged upwards, under my dress.
He gripped my breasts, his touch firm. A panicked noise choked in my throat, but not because I wanted him to let go. No, I was desperate, my bottom wiggling.
“I am not afraid to take what is offered to me, Tangwystle.” His voice sliced over me. He stood, towering over me, and pushed me until my back touched his desk. His hands never stopped, and my legs widened as he stepped forward. “Did you think about joining us?” he asked.
A frown split my face. I didn’t understand the disappointment I read on his face.
“You’re wound up,” he said. “Do you need some help?”
I couldn’t exactly pretend otherwise.
He cocked his head. “Do you want some help?”