Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
[Sorry about the family BS. That’s exactly why I don’t go. Need me to take someone out?]
I didn’t answer, but it did bring a smile to my face for a second. Sadly, all our immediate enemies got finished off in the hunt, and it’s not like I can ask him for Aspen’s head. The brat is family after all.
I attempt to get someone to put in a reinforced door in one of my bedrooms, but since it isn’t an emergency, I can’t find anyone willing to do that over the holidays. Dalton refuses to use the electronic nanny I gave him with breakfast, so I left him to think about his behavior. Fortunately, my local deli is open for business, as is the gym I go to.
I didn’t think my departure would do much, since he’d just gone to sleep instead of agonizing over his entrapment, but around twenty-four hours after our arrival, I was fed up with waiting for his move. I’d acquired his life for a reason, and he wouldn’t be denying it to me any longer.
So I did what any other man in my position would have done and spiked his plate of ‘Marry me’ chicken from my favorite Italian place. He might not want to fuck me after a day in the cage, but the aphrodisiac will take care of that easily enough.
My dining room is small, cozy, with a view of the snow-covered garden. Thick walls and a hardwood floor in the same color are livened up by an antique table, and a set of eight matching chairs, even though I rarely have visitors. Mother insisted. The crockery is a pristine white, and the long candle emerging from the fir-and-holly centerpiece in the middle livens up the interior. I look around, because everything needs to be perfect, if I’m to convince Dalton that dancing to my tune will be to his benefit.
The still life painting with the human bones is crooked once again, so I adjust its frame and only then hurry upstairs, where I’ve locked Dalton in the biggest bathroom, along with a set of clothing I purchased earlier, estimating his size. He was silent when I led him in, but he didn’t try to kill me when I unlocked the cage, so that has to count for something. As much as I like him cocky, the broody expression did something for me as well.
When I walk in, he’s so startled that foam and water splashes out. While he doesn’t need to know I made the bath bombs myself with an aroma I concocted, it does please me that he’ll now smell of something I’ve created.
He’s flushed in the way I want him to be in an hour when the aphrodisiac works its way through his system and fucking me becomes an inevitable consequence. Dalton is a beautiful inked beast I intend to tame for my purposes. I don’t bother to look away, and watch every muscle in his arms tense. After all, he belongs to me now.
“Is my time up?” Dalton says with a sigh, but it’s almost a joke, so we’re getting somewhere. It’s an improvement from dick denial and silent treatment.
I exhale and pick up a fresh towel, approaching the tub of black marble installed by the previous owner. It might or might not have been the main reason why I chose this particular home. I unfold the towel and spread my arms, waiting for him to get up and step into it. The air is warm, damp and smells of the patchouli I added to my bath bomb. Perhaps I should increase its proportion in the mixture when I make the next batch? It suits Dalton so well...
“Dinner’s served. I don’t want to eat cold food.”
My home is a world away from the damp basement of the Van der Horn family seat, and the sooner he understands that there’s comforts to be earned here, the better for both of us.
I’m fully prepared for him to shove me or snap at me. I’ve got both poison and my knife at hand, just in case, but you don’t tame a bear without risk.
He rises from the water, unbothered by his nakedness, and gives me a good view of his glorious, tattooed body before stepping into my towel’s embrace. Hopefully after tonight, bygones can be bygones.
“What am I having?” Dalton asks. He’s a bit sulky, won’t look into my eyes, but I’ve learned he’s very food-motivated, so that should make training easy.
I close my arms around his sturdy form and shut my eyes, reminding myself this is not the moment to pounce. But he is so tall, so broad, so handsome, and so very accessible, I find it difficult to stop myself. Never before have I lived with a man I can touch freely, and if the piece of candy doesn’t want to suck me back, I’m going to remind it what it was like last time.