“What are you making me to eat for second breakfast, Sir?” Willow asked Silas, aiming her voice toward Kenny’s phone.
“From scratch Belgian waffles with an apple compote, your favorite omelet combo, plus bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, and I decided what the hell, so we have biscuits and gravy, too.”
She grinned, and Boone saw the mischievousness before she spoke. “Damn, you must really feel terrible about being so mean to me, Sir.”
“I feel bad about nothing, little Miss orgasms-when-she’s-humiliated. Things are going to besomuch worse for you in scenes now that I know the depths you wish to be taken.”
“Two weeks,” Kenny told him. “Nothing changes for two weeks.”
“With respect, Sir,” Willow told Kenny, “That’s between me and Silas, and I’m not agreeing to anything today, but I’ll probably be ready to in four or five days.”
Kenny lifted the now-empty tray and plate off the bed, set it onto a nearby table, crawled into bed, and pulled Willow into his arms.
“You’re okay.”
She frowned at Boone over Kenny’s shoulder and said, “Of course I am, Sir. I mean, pretty much everything on my body hurts, but I heal faster than humans even if I don’tchange. It only barely burned when I peed this morning, and last night it was like acid on raw skin.”
Kenny pulled back. “Not talking physically. I felt like we were taking you where you wanted us to go last night, but then this morning, I woke up hours earlier than you, and I started second-guessing myself. I was worried we’d broken you so bad you might not bounce back.”
She shook her head. “I won’t break in twelve hours, Sir. We might need to give me a day to transition back if we do this for three to five days, but I’m good. Really.”
Boone settled in his skin a little more. Her eyes met his and he scented arousal again. He lifted a brow at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Just because seeing you there makes me remember being spanked over your lap doesn’t mean it’s happening today.I was promised a day off from anything physical, and I’m taking it.”
Chapter 23
Silas telepathed Boone to help him bring all the food up, because breakfast for three wolves and a hawk was a lot when you went completely overboard with it.
He balanced the heavy tray easily, but his mind wasn’t on the food. He’d built the breakfast big on purpose — comfort stacked on comfort, every bite tailored to Willow. He’d pushed her the hardest last night, and he knew it. He’d let his inner sadist run free and today was for aftercare.
And really, taking care of her, loving her, being attentive — it might seem soft, but it was part of his strategy.
Love her and hurt her. Lift her up and tear her down. Can’t have one without the other.
When he stepped into the bedroom, Willow looked small but stubborn, propped on the wedge. Bald head. Most of the bruises hidden under the sheet, but he knew they were there. He caught her scent and it was layered — love, happiness, ache, exhaustion, and a touch of arousal.
He let Kenny and Boone circle their questions, but Silas’s mind never stopped cataloguing her current state beyond what his nose told him: her tone of voice, every flicker in her eyes. He wanted to push now, to corner her while she was raw, buthe forced patience. She needed space to own it herself, and then he’d pounce.
Still, he couldn’t resist a few needling questions. “What dehumanized you the most?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it. Needed to watch her face when she admitted the truth.
“I mean, it was like a puzzle, Sir, and it started sooner than I expected, taking away the use of my hands, transporting me like an animal. I figured I’d have to pee outside right off the bat because Kenny made me drink so much ahead of time, but then the enemas—”
“One thing,” he interrupted. “And don’t tell me you don’t have something in mind.”
When she just stared at him, he met her gaze and softened his voice. “La nostalgie de la boue.”
Her scent spiked, arousal and understanding, and she sighed. “Being an actual toilet, Sir. Moving the second I heard that damned phrase, crawling…” She closed her eyes. Opened them. “And then, partway through the night, realizing how fast it became the new normal. How fast it became part of the definition of…” A sigh. “Not themesitting here now, but what you were making me into at the time.”
Satisfaction coiled sharp and sweet inside him. He didn’t smile, not with his mouth, but his eyes must’ve given him away, and she said, “Yes yes. I know. We’ll talk about how far to take it in our everyday life Sir. Not all the time, not downstairs, but maybe upstairs, and probably…” She blew out a breath. “Almost certainly in scenes.”
She didn’t realize yet how much of herself she’d revealed last night, but Silas had felt it every time she broke and then rebuilt a tiny bit under their hands. He saw new doors cracked open, new corners of her shame that begged to be dragged into the light. He’d exploit them all, eventually. But not today.
He leaned back, arms loose, voice lazy. “We’ll find the lines you don’t even know you have. Might take a year, maybe two, but I’ll get you there.”
The scent rolling off her was a mix of defiance, unease, and arousal — and it told him he was right.
But it was time to move away from that subject for now because she hadn’t fully processed what’d happened yet. Where they’d taken her.
“I had my doubts about the thing after dinner,” he told her. “But Kenny assured us it would work for you. He was right, but can you explain why? Him with the wand on your tits, me on your clit, Boone in your ass. Nothing in your pussy?”
