That thought ricochets through me. As shocking as being doused with a bucket of cold water and just as undeniable. The question unveils a troubling truth. I want him. Crave him.
I swallow. Okay. Why on earth do I want him to take me? What is wrong with me? How did it come to this undeniable fact? It is burning within me and there is not a thing I can do about it.
I want my captor to fuck me.
Chapter thirteen
Ithink I am becoming a morning person. All this lounging around in a warm bath is worth waking up for. Unlike my old life, where my phone would go off and force me to stagger around my tiny flat, make instant coffee, and then blearily stagger off to work.
Being pampered every day is a vast improvement. Pinky coughs aggressively and I glare at her. But fine, I am hungry and looking forward to breakfast.
I float over to her and walk out of the bath. I’m getting used to the instantly drying cockbag and I have to admit it can be useful. Like last night, at dinner. I would have sprayed cum all over myself if it wasn’t for the bag.
The memory makes my cheeks heat as Pinky efficiently dries me. She picks up a bundle of silk robes. I need to pay attention. I want to learn how to dress and undress myself. But she does it so fast, I’m lost by the third layer.
She steps back to admire her handy work and nods in satisfaction. There is a full-length mirror at the other end of the room. Maybe if I have a look, I’ll be able to figure out how these clothes work. I walk towards it and Pinky doesn’t stop me.
I stare at the waist of my robes. It seems to be where the action takes place. It is where Rhydian goes to undress me. But I can’t see how he does it. However, I can see how very slutty my waist looks. Damn, why don’t human clothes show off men’s waists? They really are missing a trick.
My gaze flicks up, and I freeze. What the hell? My reflection stares back at me. Except it is not quite my reflection. My skin is not that good. My eyes are not that vibrant. My nose has a little kink in it that this reflection does not have, and I’ve never had my eyebrows shaped. My hair is a shaggy mousy brown, not this softly curling, burnished chestnut. And who the hell has thick dark lashes like that!
The mirror copies my facial expressions, and it is uncanny as hell. I scream and erupt into goose pimples.
The door flies open behind me, and Rhydian strides in, looking alarmed. He hurries over to my side. Eyeing every corner of the room as if he thinks the shadows are going to attack.
“Sorry!” I squeak. “This enchanted mirror gave me a fright.”
A look of relief flows over his face, but then he frowns. “It’s not enchanted.”
“Yeah, right!” I snort as I poke at my face and stare at the reflection. Damn, this is like the best camera filter ever. Now that I’ve got over my fright, I can appreciate it.
“It is not,” insists Rhydian.
I glare at his reflection in the mirror as he stands calmly behind me. I open my mouth to argue, but wait a minute. His reflection looks exactly the same. Nothing about him has been changed.
My gaze flicks between his reflection and mine. “What is happening?” Does the enchantment only work on humans or something?
The very corners of Rhydian’s mouth tug upwards in the faintest approximation of a smile.
“You have been eating fey food and drinking fey wine.”
I blink. I dimly remember old fairy tales saying not to accept food from the fey, or you will be trapped forever. I thought of it my first day here, after it was too late and I had already eaten. Is Rhydian saying there is some truth to those myths and legends?
“Your food made me pretty?” I shriek.
“It enhanced what was already there.”
A strange incoherent noise comes out of me. I spin around, push past him, and run into the sitting room. The breakfast table has been laid. I hurry over to it and pick up an apple and bite into it as I grab slices of other fruit. Trying to cram everything into my mouth all at once is difficult, but I’m not going to let that stop me.
My deepest, darkest desire, the thing I have longed for with secret, intense longing since puberty first struck, is miraculously coming true. I am pretty. I might even become prettier. People will like me. Want me. Notice me. Perhaps even Rhydian’s feeling for me will change.
Rhydian steps up behind me, I twist around and look up at him. His eyes widen. Presumably at the sight of my hamster cheeks and all the juice flowing over my chin. He looks so utterly bewildered and taken aback. Seeing emotion displayed so clearly on his usually stoic face is startling.
Ilaugh. And then choke. Laughing with your mouth full is so not a good idea. Rhydian slaps me firmly on the back until I can breathe again.
“You done?” he asks.
I nod while wheezing. I think all the fruit I crammed into my mouth has now gone down the right hole. Rhydian hands me a linen napkin and I take it gratefully and wipe all the juice off my face.
