“Not just that,” I say, taking off my clothes and then sitting down in my chair. Once Peony is disrobed, too, I bring her into my lap and touch her all over as the people on the television fuck louder and louder. Peony is mesmerized by it as my hand drifts down between her legs. I’ve gotten better at touching her without scraping her with my claws, and I run the pad of my finger gently over her clit while she watches. She gets wet almost immediately, and my cock pokes its head out of its sheath.
Soon, I have the lips of her cunt spread for me, and I’m slowly working my way inside her as the woman on the screen nears her climax. Peony is gasping, much more turned on than usual, and I’m glad I decided to do this with her.
I like that Peony is a delicate woman who requires focus and attention to bring her to her finish. Tonight, though, it’s surprisingly easy to get her there, and when she’s already come once around me, she whines, “Rupert!” and starts up again, using me while she watches the people on the screen.
There are no more nights where I cannot sleep, no more nights where I leave the manor in the darkness and hunt through the trees for rabbits and deer. My prey is Peony’s cries of pleasure, her little snores as she sleeps, the sweet tunes she hums while she cleans.
It’s been wonderful, too, to start cooking again, and the part of me that once went to culinary school and dreamt of becoming a chef has awakened. Peony and I cook together at least once a day, and we’ve learned so much from one another. She is a creative soul while I am more of a technical one, and sometimes in the evenings, we spend time putting together her ideas with my execution to create new menus for the coming week.
Even Kellen seems happier with Peony around, though that might have to do with whoever he’s been seeing in private. He’s gone more often now, and I wonder how much he neglected his personal life in order to serve me. Now that I have Peony, he may feel more comfortable leaving me alone for long periods of time.
But I can tell that there’s… a restlessness about my little human, the longer she lives here in the manor with me. She runs errands on her own now quite often in Kellen’s car, and I find I don’t like it. I wish I could go with her and watch out for her, but I don’t dare leave and show my face at, say, a supermarket.
I hope Peony doesn’t come to regret her choice of caring for a recluse. She’s social, that much is clear by the way she chatters at dinner, how she engages both of us in talking about our interests. If she were to stay with me, she would have to hide me from her friends. Will she be able to make new ones if she never leaves the manor, either?
Though the consuming heat of our budding relationship tends to push these doubts to the back of my mind, when she’s away, they resurface. What if when she goes to town, she meets a regular person who could give her a regular life?
One afternoon, my landline rings, which isn’t a common occurrence. The caller ID tells me it’s my distant neighbor, Stella, who once recommended Peony to me. Peony is off shopping, and I wonder what Stella’s after.
“Hello?” I say cautiously.
“Rupert!” Stella’s greeting is big and loud. “How are you?” Before I can answer, she barrels on. “I haven’t heard from you since my grandniece went to work at your house. Is it a good arrangement?”
I had honestly forgotten about Stella after everythingthat’s happened since Peony first arrived on my doorstep. What would she want me to say?
“Um, everything is going well,” I answer diplomatically. “Pe—I mean, Ms. Austin has been doing a wonderful job, and I love having her around.”
“My, my, even the recluse likes her.” Stella clicks her tongue. “She has always been my favorite relative, though she was down on her luck after that awful boyfriend of hers.”
I bristle all over.Awfulbarely describes him.
“I’m glad you gave her a job, Rupert. I refuse to give handouts, but I’m sure with you she’s learning the value of hard work.”
I scowl. Those were not lessons that someone like Peony ever needed to learn.
“Did you know what she was leaving behind?” I ask her, incensed. “That she was fleeing abuse, Stella?”
My neighbor huffs into the speaker. “I’ve heard no such thing.”
I probably shouldn’t have said it, but she deserves to feel at least a tad guilty.
“Her mother was a very poor example for her,” Stella rambles on. “Ran off when Peony was little. I don’t want her to turn out the same way by making it easy for her.”
I just want to bash the handset in, but I restrain myself. “Well, despite how callously you treated her, she seems to be prospering.” I don’t mention that she’s living here now, too.
“I thought you’d be more grateful that I sent such a capable woman your way, but I suppose no good deed goes unpunished.”
Hopefully she can hear me rolling my eyes. “Thank you, Stella. We’re so grateful to have her. What else can I do for you?”
“I thought I might drop by!” she says brightly. “Now thatyour house is, well,clean, I could say hello to my grandniece and, perhaps, meet you in person. Everyone at the club wonders about you, you know.”
“They can wonder.” I am instantly repulsed by the idea of Stella Austin visiting my home. No way I would ever show myself to her. “You are welcome to see Peo—Ms. Austin, but I will not be joining her.”
Stella makes a thoughtful noise. “Very rude, don’t you think?”
I shrug, though she can’t see it. “Not a concern of mine. I recommend you call her directly and arrange a meeting time.”
“Oh, good, she has a phone now.”
