“You…” Her voice cracks. “You did this for me.”
I don’t respond. I don’t need to.
Her breath hitches again,but this time, it isn’t just the shock. It’s more profound, a greater feeling breaking open in her, terrifying and beautiful.
She leans forward before I can stop her. Hands still trembling, knees still in the dirt.
And kisses me.
It’s desperate, unsteady, her lips searching mine like they’re trying to make sense of everything. Her fingers curl in the front of my coat, dragging me closer, pulling me down to her level, because she can’t stand and she can’t speak, but she has to give something back.
I let her kiss me like that. Let her pour it all into me, the gratitude, the confusion, the fear. I taste her tears and the heat beneath them, the way she’s cracking open without permission.
And when I finally pull away, I press my forehead to hers, steadying her breath with mine. Seeing her like this is unnerving. I feel things inside of me that I can’t digest. I feel nauseous at the underlying loss of control and composure she brings out of me.
“You don’t understand it yet,” I murmur. “But you will.” Truthfully, I’m not sure if I understand it yet either.
She just nods, eyes shut tight, still clutching my coat as if she lets go, she’ll disappear.
She stays there, folded into me, her breath finally slowing, her lips still parted from the kiss. It’s the quietest she’s ever been, undone, overwhelmed, held.
I give her a moment. Let her believe she’s safe.
Then I lean down again, brushing my mouth just barely against her ear.
I don’t know why I do it. It’s a last-ditch effort to block this festering fucking emotion that’s reached the brim.
But before I can stop myself, I slip back behind that cruel mask I wear, and I remind her who’s in control.
“But if you want to keep them,” I whisper, tone shifting like a blade, “you’ll behave.”
She tenses, just the slightest twitch, but I feel it.
“You don’t get Lilibet,” I continue, voice low, lethal, “or any of this, if you forget your place.”
She pulls back just enough to look up at me, eyes wide, glassy.
“Good whores,” I murmur, stroking her cheek with the back of my fingers, “need to stay well-behaved.”
Her breath catches again, but this time, it’s not from emotion. It’s from fear.
Real, sharp, familiar.
I smile, slow, cruel, patient. The way you smile at a pet you’ve just trained into silence.
“You can cry for her all you want,” I add softly, “but if you ever try to leave me, I’ll sell them all.”
She stares at me, horrified.
I brush a tear from her cheek with my thumb.
“I’ll see you back at the house, darling.”
Then I stand, leaving her kneeling in the straw, her face flushed, her lips swollen, her heart breaking all over again.
Exactly where she belongs.
Chapter twenty
