Melody
Chapter sixty-five
He wasn’t fucking joking.
I’m still butt-naked, my knees tucked under me, arms sore from being bound behind my back.
Kaden sits at the table, two plates in front of him piled with seared steak, sweet potato, and broccoli.
He slices into one of the steaks and lifts a rare, pink bite to his mouth. My lip curls as he eats heartily.
The worst part of all of this isn’t even the fact that he’s fully dressed now with jeans covering his legs and a black t-shirt stretched over his chest. It’s the literal fucking metal chain that connects from my collar to the leg of his chair, holding me in place at his feet.
It’s dehumanizing and humiliating.
The unbidden heat that pools in my lower belly unsettles me, its suddenness catching me off guard, conflicting with my humiliation.
I hate that my pulse jumps with every scrape of the chain across the marble floor. I hate that my thighs squeeze together with every move he makes. I hate that the collar’s weight doesn’t even feel restraining. It’s a reminder.
This is my punishment for leaving him chained to the bed.
And putting salt in his coffee.
And spitting on him…
Fuck.
He doesn’t look at me right away. That’s completely deliberate on his part.
Instead, he cuts into my steak with careful precision, the knife ripping the medium-rare meat apart before his arm dips down under the table, and he offers it to me from between his fingers rather than with a utensil.
His eyes finally shift to me, still darkened with desire as he observes me like a pet.
“Eat,” he commands softly.
His voice makes heat flare low as I shift forward and take the steak between my teeth. I peer up through my lashes as the rich taste dances across my tongue. It’s delicious, but I’m feeling a different kind of hunger…
I swallow, never breaking eye contact. He watches my mouth the whole time, fire erupting across my cheeks as I shift closer and the chain rattles. He withdraws his hand, dabbing at his fingers with a napkin before picking up his knife and cutting another bite for me.
“Good?” He asks.
I nod once, the collar warm against my throat. He offers me another bite, and I take it gingerly, my teeth scraping over his fingers in a small warning.
I could bite you at any second.
His jaw flexes as his eyes narrow. “You remember why you’re down there?”
“Unfortunately,” I respond sweetly.
He leans back in his chair as he chuckles quietly and passes a hand over his mouth. “You won’t break me, and I won’t break you, Melody, but the punishments will continue the longer your little revenge plan plays out. Keep that in mind. I can do far worse than chaining you under a table…”
Hmm. That almost sounds like a challenge. I know it isn’t, but right now, I’m feeling vindictive.
I may not break him, but I won’t yield. One of us will give up eventually, and I don’t want it to be me.
He offers me another bite, and I take it without complaint as my soaked thighs squelch together. The sound reaches him as my cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. So much for not making my arousal obvious…
“You like this?” He questions low, his face softening into curiosity.
I look away from him, my throat tight as I stammer through my words. “I-I like when you tell me what to do…”
His brows lift. “It’s called power exchange. You like the dominance and control I have over you.”
I stare down at the floor, turning his explanation over in my head. “Yes.”
His hand cups my chin as he tilts my head up to him. His eyes are still calculating and dark, but his expression is open and easy. “Are you okay? Communicate with me.”
I swallow, my eyes fluttering. “I’m fine. It’s just…different.”
“And is that a good thing?” He whispers.
I nod.
He releases me, then grabs another stalk of broccoli and offers it to me. “You’re doing well, pretty girl.”
I preen despite my humiliation as I take it between my teeth. He could choose to be cold and aloof. This is a punishment after all, but he’s checking in with me to make sure I’m okay. It’s kind of him…
“There’s another part of this that we need to discuss,” he says as he takes a bite of his own food. “It’s called aftercare.”
I blink, my head tilting. “Aftercare? What’s that?”
“Think of it as a warm down,” he offers me another bite, and I take it before easing back down onto my thighs.
“It’s a physical and mental reconnection period where partners care for each other.
I’ll make sure you don’t have any injuries, and we can do something that will help you decompress from the scene. It can be anything.”
My eyes light up. “Like watching a movie and cuddling?”
His lips twitch into a smile. “How did I know that was coming?”
I smile bashfully. “Well, you’ve always been the best big brother…”
He pinches my chin between his fingers before swooping down and kissing me deeply. My eyes close as I moan into his mouth. My whole body goes pliant as comfort washes over me. His touch has always been a balm for life’s greatest challenges.
He pulls away before nipping at my bottom lip. “Your punishment isn’t over yet.”
I wilt a little as I huff. “Dammit.”
“Nice try.”
We finish our food slowly, and an idle conversation starts between us as I talk about the clothes and shoes I bought today.
I completely forget that I’m kneeling naked with a collar around my throat as dinner draws to a close and everything becomes so natural.
It isn’t until Kaden pushes his chair out and the chain slides against the floor that I snap out of it.
He returns our plates to the kitchen before unchaining me and unlocking the cuffs. As my arms slide around, I release a breath of relief. Kaden takes my wrists in his hands, turning them over to observe the red lines around them.
“Nothing serious,” he mumbles. “No cuts. Stand up and let me check your knees.”
I obey, shifting in place as I rise. His fingers brush over the redness before he nods in satisfaction. He slaps a hand over my ass, making me jump.
“Would you like clothes now?” He smirks.
I hook a finger into the collar, pulling it away from my throat. “And maybe I can get this off—”
“Nope,” he interrupts.
I deadpan. “I’m stealing your clothes.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.” He kisses my temple before retreating upstairs.
When he returns, he has one of his old band t-shirts and a pair of my underwear in his hands.
I reach for them, but he stops me. “You’ve done enough.
Let me take care of you.” He murmurs into my hair before dropping to his knees in front of me.
I place my hands on his shoulders as I lift a leg, and he slides the underwear around my ankle. I watch him dress me the whole time, heat igniting in my face with every brush of his fingers over my bare skin. It’s achingly sweet.
“All dressed,” he whispers as he pulls my shirt down past my upper thighs. He kisses me chastely before nodding to the living room. “The remote is yours. Pick a movie.”
I take his hand in mine, feeling sheepish as I drag him towards the large sofa.
I flick on the TV as he sits next to me, our sides touching.
I find one of my favorites, press play, and lean over his chest. My hand tightens into a fist as I bunch his shirt.
I can hear the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear as the beginning credits roll.
He smoothes a hand over my hair, the touch tender and calming.
“I could get used to this kind of pampering,” I muse as my eyes flutter.
His chest shakes with a silent laugh. “Then marry me.”
I can’t stop my small smile from forming. “I already did.”