Chapter 31 Grace
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
GRACE
Every day is the same. I wake up at some unknown hour on an unknown day, cold, hungry, and alone—but not really alone.
He’s always watching, always spying through those cameras of his.
As soon as he sees my eyes open, I have exactly ten minutes before Seven walks through the door holding a tray of food.
After he hand-feeds me, he’ll have me suck his fingers clean, and then he’ll give me my first drink of the morning.
At least, I assume it’s morning. There’s no way to tell without windows in the room. The only way for me to ascertain the general time of day is by the type of food he brings me—but for all I know, he could be giving me pancakes for dinner, and I’d be none the wiser.
Every one of my actions is done under his strict supervision. He feeds me, bathes me, grooms me, breeds me, and on good days, he lets me come.
Whenever I act out, he punishes me. Normally, it’s a small jolt of the shock collar, but other times, when he’s feeling particularly cruel, he’ll stuff my holes full of toys and edge me until my body is screaming for release, then leave me aching.
There’s some sick part of me that likes it, craves the humiliation and the pleasure that comes with it.
I’ve never felt so frightened, so alive, and the warring emotions are driving me mad.
I don't really know what I’d do if Seven let me out of my cage.
Would I fight him? Beg him to touch me? I wish I knew, but there’s no way to know for sure until he does it.
I’m completely dependent on him now, and I know that’s just how he likes it. The only problem is I’m beginning to enjoy it, too.
A few minutes later, Seven comes into the room, holding a tray of stuffed French toast. It’s piled high with fruit, whipped cream, and syrup, and my stomach groans at the heavenly smell wafting from the plate.
At first, I tried to resist eating what he made me, but he kept showing up with my favorite dishes day after day, and eventually I broke.
Half of what makes this so hard is how… sweet he’s being about it.
Yes, he lied to me for weeks, kidnapped me, and is keeping me locked in a cage, but he also washes my hair with my favorite shampoo, cooks my favorite meals, and gives me the most mind-shattering, toe-curling orgasms I’ve ever experienced.
It’s all so fucked up.
Seven crouches in front of the cage, his face spreading into a happy smile as he takes me in. “Hello, angel. How did you sleep?”
I gaze up at him, my core heating at the dark glint in his eyes. “It was okay… A little cramped…”
“Hmm.” He tilts his head. “Maybe tonight, I’ll let you sleep in the bed with me. How does that sound?”
Despite how I should feel, a little thrill goes through me at the mention of sleeping in a real bed with Seven. “Really?”
“Really.” His eyes spark with desire.
His gaze falls to my mouth as he unlocks the feeding slot, pulling the door wide so he can fit his hand through.
He takes a small piece of the French toast between his fingers and guides the bite toward my mouth.
Too hungry to protest, I eat the offering eagerly.
When the plate is empty, Seven pushes his fingertips against my lips, prompting me to open my mouth so he can slip them inside.
“Suck.” His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers down my spine.
I do as he says, keeping eye contact with him as I clean his hands of the sticky syrup.
“Good girl.” He tenderly brushes my hair behind my ear. “Tea?”
I nod, my mouth parched after all the sugar. He pours a little into his cupped hand, passing it through the bars and allowing me to lap it up from his palm—something else I’ve gotten used to over the past few weeks.
“You’ve been so sweet lately, angel. I think you’ve earned the chance to stretch your wings.”
I gaze up at him, hating and loving the thrill that goes through me. “I have?”
“Yes. But only if you promise to be good.” He leans forward, pressing his forehead to the bars. “Can you do that?”
I nod, not needing to think about it. “I can be good! I mean, I will be.”
“You better, Grace.” His expression turns to one of remorse. “I don’t like keeping you in here. I want to have you close to me, always. I want to take care of you better than this.”
I swallow hard as his hand moves toward the lock. There’s a small clicking noise as he inserts a small golden key into the hole, and then the door to the cage swings open.
Holding my breath, I move forward on my hands and knees, half expecting him to take back his good will.
He watches me as I crawl out of the cage, his attention solely focused on my hanging breasts, the gentle sway of my hips.
I shouldn’t love the hungry glint in his eyes as he takes in my body, but I do.
Once outside, I try to stand, but my legs are so weak after being in that strange crouched position for so long that I’m physically unable. Realizing my struggle, Seven helps me stand, keeping his arm tight around my waist as I attempt to walk to the exit.
When I prove unable to do it even with his help, Seven picks me up, holding me to his chest like I’m made of something precious. I breathe deep, the heady scent of gunpowder and leather filling my senses, and heat pools between my thighs.
He nuzzles my neck, nipping gently at my pulse point as he whispers, “I know, sweet girl. I’ll give you what you’re craving super soon. But I want to give you a proper bath first.”
Without another word, he takes me out of the white room and down a long hallway, stopping at the elevators situated at the very end. We travel up two floors, and as soon as he steps off, I realize he’s taking me to his living space.
We bypass the living room and bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom.
Keeping me clutched tightly to his chest, Seven kneels by the tub, testing the water with the back of his hand.
Once the temperature is to his liking, he adds some citrus-scented bath beads and bubbles, then places a few candles around the perimeter.
By the time he’s done setting the mood, the tub is mostly filled.
With a kiss to the top of my head, he finally lets me go, taking great care as he slides my body into the water.
Silently, Seven takes a seat on the tile and pulls out a washcloth, his eyes heated as he begins to wash my body.
I relax into his touch, giving in to the pleasure it brings, but when he reaches the cloth between my thighs, I stiffen.
“I can do that.” I try to take the cloth from his scarred hand, but he holds it out of reach.
“Absolutely not,” he says, his voice tight. “My seed is the one filling you, and it will be my hand that cleans you.”
Blowing out a breath, I relax against the porcelain as he gently cleans her with the rag, biting my lip every time he brushes against my swollen clit.
Once he’s satisfied, Seven repositions himself at the head of the tub, reaching for a shampoo bottle.
“Head back.”
He holds his palm at the back of my head as I slide down, wetting my hair.
A loud moan falls from my lips as he begins massaging my scalp, his strong fingers working the shampoo in, washing away all the blood and dirt caked to the thick strands.
As he works, I drift off, becoming pliant in his arms. I’m so relaxed, I don't realize I’ve fallen asleep until Seven lifts me out of the tub.
Instead of placing me on the ground, Seven takes a seat on the bath mat, holding me in his lap, fully facing him as he wraps a fluffy white towel around my body. He looks deep into my eyes as he gently rubs the water from my skin, and the hunger living in them makes me shiver.
“Seven…”
“Shh.” He turns me around in his lap so I’m facing away from him. There’s a click, then the whirring sound of a blow-dryer.
Is he… going to blow-dry my hair?
I watch him in the mirror as he pulls the brush through my long, dark strands of hair, my chest clenching with a foreign emotion. I don't understand what it is, exactly, but it seems like…
Shaking away those horrible, awful thoughts, I focus on a small crack in the wall, losing myself to the feel of the silky strands moving between Seven’s scarred hands.
Once Seven is satisfied with my hair, he grabs another expensive-looking bottle, squeezing out a dime-sized amount of moisturizer into his palm.
Without a word, he begins rubbing it into my skin, taking care to massage my sore muscles as he goes.
All the while, I watch him, that strange emotion growing stronger, bringing tears to my eyes.
A few minutes later, Seven puts the bottle to the side and scoops me into his arms, carrying me into his bedroom. He places me on the bed, his mouth twisting with a shy grin as he gazes down at me.
“I have a present for you. Something I hope you’ll like.”
My heart hammers as I recall the last present Seven gave me—but it can’t be anything worse. Right?
“Okay,” I whisper. “What is it?”
Without a word, Seven moves into the closet, returning a few moments later with a gorgeous pale yellow gown in his arms. He places it onto the mattress next to me, and I reach out, running my fingers over the silky material. “This is for me?”
“For you. I had it custom-made. I… thought you might like to wear it to dinner,” he says, unable to look at me. He seems nervous—but why?
At that moment, I understand the emotion that I was feeling earlier. Love. I’m falling in love with Seven.
Though the realization should fill me with horror, the only thing I feel is a deep desire to reach out, to give myself to Seven fully. I shouldn’t, but I find myself whispering, “I would love to.”
“Beautiful.” Seven’s eyes rake hungrily up and down my body, taking in my dress and how it clings to my curves.