Page 52 of Release


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“Did he at least milk you last night?”

He shakes his head. “No, Ma’am,” he quietly says. “I haven’t come since Friday night. He said I have to earn the next one from you, no matter how long it takes.”

A mix of sympathy and anger swirls through me. Is George trying to manipulate me by using Declan? Trying to earn my sympathies? Or trying to bribe me?

“What’s his game?” I don’t even realize I’ve said it out loud until Declan’s gaze meets mine.

“Helovesyou.Ilove you. He doesn’t know what to do because you won’t tell him what you need from him. He’s trying.”

“Trying to what, piss me off? I thought he promised never to send you to bed horny.”

“He asked me on Friday if I was okay with this. I told him yes.”

Breathing seems the safest response right now. I study him for a long moment. “So you’re trying tohelphim win me over?”

“Ma’am, you won’t tell us what you need from him. He doesn’t know what else to do. You won’ttalkto us.”

“I don’t fucking trust him, Declan. I told him that when we talked that day in his kitchen a couple of months ago. I don’t trust his judgment, and I don’t trust yours at this point. You let him do breath play on you.Multipletimes. You can’t even fuckingsafewordwith him.”

“I don’t safeword with you.”

“I’m not the fricking governor running for re-election!”

“Then what will it take for him to earn your trust back?”

“Idon’tknow! That’s the very same thing I told him that day.” Fuck, now I’m just pissed right the fuck off. “Go get me the fricking key.”

I point to where one hangs on a hook on the wall near the stairs. I have several stashed in various places in my house, including the one I slipped onto George’s keyring, another one hanging inside the pantry at George’s, that I don’t think either man’s even seen yet, and one on my own keyring.

Except when Declan turns, I gasp.

Several layers of bruises and welts, some obviously from last night, and some a couple of days old from their color, mark him from the backs of his knees up to his ass. More marks shadow the backs of his upper arms. I mean…he’s fucking black and blue. And purple and brown and red and that nasty, mottled green color.

I must have made a noise because he glances back with a playful smile curving those gorgeous lips of his. “He’s been a little aggravated. We played again Friday night after what you saw, and yesterday morning and night.”

I’ll admit I’ve put marks of my own on the boy. But…

Shit.

Declan brings me the key and stands there holding it when I can’t bring myself to reach for it yet.

“He fucking beat the crap out of you,” I numbly say.

He shrugs, smiling. “I enjoyed it.”

“But he…he didn’t reward you.”

“We cuddled.”

I’m not expecting the secondary wave of guilt that washes in. “Take it off,” I tell him. I walk over to the shelf along the wall to put my earbuds back on their charger.

“Ma’am?”

“You heard me. Take it off.”

I don’t turn around. “Go put it and the key in the cabinet.” I keep other toys and implements in there.

I hear the cabinet open, him setting it inside, and closing it again.