47. Chapter Forty-Seven The Price of Freedom
Chapter Forty-Seven: The Price of Freedom
Maverick
When I woke with the sun trailing across my eyes, her hand was draped over my chest, the other one still tethered to the headboard with shadow. My cock stiffened, but I knew she had to be weak and sore after what I’d put her through, so I slipped out from under her, pulled on some shorts and distracted myself with breakfast.
As I fried bacon and potatoes, waiting for her to wake up famished, I plotted how to convince her to stay tied to my bed forever. It might take some time, but she could eat breakfast in bed while I ate her, and then I’d throw the dishes on the floor and fuck her tight little pussy again. And again. I could spoil her with a warm sponge bath right there.
I could keep her forever. My perfect fuck toy.
It was more than that, but I couldn’t examine that right now.
Keeping her here now didn’t feel right. Not yet. My intuition was screaming. I had to think. Once I knew her game, I’d know better how to break her for me.
With a regretful groan, I snuck back into the bedroom. Stopping to watch her gently snore, beautifully tied to my bed. Something in my ribcage tightened uncomfortably. I swallowed the lump in my throat. What the fuck? She had to be enchanted whether she knew it or not.
Maybe it was something Ivan did to her, the sick fuck.
Or she was a hunter, and I was her mark. I shook my head and untied her before she woke up.
Shooting a quick text to Lux asking if there’d been any sight of a hunter searching for us, I snatched a couple slices of bacon out of the pan to munch on. “Fuck I’m hungry,” I muttered.
The floor creaked in the bedroom. She was up. My heart jumped and wouldn’t settle down as I waited for her. I scrambled some eggs when she shut the door to the bathroom so they’d be ready when she came in. The time it took for those eggs to cook and Tess to finish whatever she was doing in there was an excruciating age. Three minutes never lasted three centuries before. When Tess sauntered into the kitchen wearing one of my t-shirts, her gorgeous, bare thighs on display, I nearly forgot who I was.
“Morning.” Her voice was all croaky as she ran a hand through her hair. I stared at her, my throat too dry to speak. She grinned and plopped into a chair at the kitchen table, but I still didn’t have any words.
I growled and turned away, busied myself with plating our breakfast. My brain was too jumbled. She had to be a hunter.
She couldn’t be a hunter .
But if she wasn’t, why was I so flustered?
I needed her out of my house so I could think. That’s the only reason I was going to let her go. I had to figure this out first. Gather myself and get the plan straight in my head. If I held her captive, she would beg me to let her go, and I was so soft for her, I would. Then she’d be gone forever.
I couldn’t let that happen.
When I slid the plate of bacon, eggs and potatoes in front of her, she hummed the most delicious sound. I imagined her lips around my cock again. “My favorite,” she breathed quietly.
I couldn’t even look at her. “Good. Eat.” I sat across from her and picked at my fried potatoes as I watched her annihilate her breakfast like she’d never eaten before.
The silence between us bubbled and grew into a snarling beast. I ignored that, focused on the clinking of utensils on plates, the clock ticking in the corner, the birds chirping outside the window. “Is everything okay?” Her voice was small and accompanied by little wisps of fear. They were delicious, like smears of ice cream off a gorgeous woman’s cheek.
“Perfect, monstre.” I grunted and shoved more potatoes in my mouth.
She slipped another forkful of food between those perfect lips, and I just wanted to shove my cock in with them, but I held my fork tight and counted every microsecond.
“I don’t know why, but I’m starving,” she said.
Hunched over my plate, trying desperately to keep seated, I peered up at her and smirked. “I wrung out every last drop of energy from your body last night.”
Her face and neck flushed red, but she pretended not to be affected and took another bite of eggs and potatoes. “Yeah... ”
“I’m gonna do it again.”
“I do have to go to work, you know,” she reminded me.
I nodded and pointed at her plate with my fork. “Better hurry the fuck up then.”
A burst of fear from her teased me hard again, but it worked. She wolfed down the remainder of her breakfast. Then I found some clothes in the back of my closet that seemed like they’d fit her and hoped she wouldn’t ask where they came from. I helped her get into my shower unmolested, an exercise in self-restraint if there ever was one.
When she finally stood by the door, I seized her by the hips and kissed her like I wasn’t going to let her go. I thought about it for a minute, too. Shoving her back against the door, my tongue teased hers, and she let out these breathy little moans; I thought about phasing us back to bed and tying her up again.
But somehow, instead, I opened the door and pushed her out. She smiled at me, probably thinking I was being romantic. But she had no idea how close she was to losing her freedom again.
She would sooner or later anyway.
When she finally pulled free and sauntered away down the street, hips swaying like the queen she was, I slammed the door, banged my forehead against the hardwood, and let out a deep sigh.
“Fuck. Me.”