“You didn’t poison it, did you?” I ask as I settle my fingers around the heated mug.
“No, Sir,” he says, his voice sweet as fucking chocolate.
My cock takes interest in those words, more than it should.
I shift my stance, crossing my legs if only to squash my unruly cock’s interest.
It’s been nearly ten months since I’ve felt any sort of desire that didn’t come from my own hand. Perhaps I need to rectify that with a visit to Paramour, if my cock is so easily swayed by the sight ofOliver.
Though I wish I could refute such things, I cannot help but acknowledge his presence is rather appealing…
I sniff the steaming liquid, inhaling its sweet vanilla scent.
I dip my finger into the concoction to taste it, the familiar silkiness of creamy vanilla hitting my tongue.
“Almond milk?” I ask, knowing the taste anywhere.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hmm,” I say, taking a long sip. The smooth taste of the espresso and the sweetness of the froth elicit a deep groan from me.
“Well done, Oliver,” I say with a faint smile.
I don’t miss the way his cheeks tint, or the way the sight stirs my cock.
I clear my throat. “So, you are my new pet, are you?”
Oliver bites his lip, and I swear I have to squeeze my legs harder than I should to prevent a damn erection at the tender hour of eight fifteen in the morning.
Yes, a trip to Paramour is most needed. I should have paid better attention to myself, to my needs, to—
“Pet?” he asks, with a soft chuckle. “You make it sound like this place is a zoo or something.”
I lean back in my chair with my cup of coffee. I note how his hands are still clasped in his lap, how he sits with such elegance, such practiced poise.
“More like a jungle,” I say with a laugh.
“Yes, well, I am happy to help—zoo or jungle—if it is all the same,” he says, his deep green eyes looking away from me, and I don’t miss the scarlet hue forming in his cheeks. I smirk.
He blushes easily. Noted.
“Look at me, Oliver,” I order.
Without question, his gaze flicks to mine, his pink cheeks on full display.
I can’t help the smile that forms on my face.
“Good boy. Now, tell me, how much did Chickadee tell you upfront?”
Oliver shrugs. “She mentioned you had a lot of meetings today.”
I sip my coffee, licking my lips as the cream spreads along the corners of my mouth.
“I do.” I straighten my tie, leaning back in my chair as I hold his gaze. “And you will shadow me, of course, to all of them. I think it best we baptise you in fire, if you are to truly understand how tohelpme.”
“Yes, Sir.” Oliver’s hands remain still. Clasped.
His watch glints in the light, shiny yet simple. I can tell from the face alone, it’s a knock-off, or perhaps just a basic watch from the average jeweler. It’s too big for his wrist, almost fading beneath his shirt-sleeve. My gaze roves over his knuckles, his fingers. His trimmed nails.
