I glanced at him with curiosity. “You’re not eating too?”
He smiled. “I already had my plate, but if you’d like, I can eat with you more in the future.”
I shrugged, then tore into my meal, barely chewing, letting salt and fat and iron soak into me. I moaned at the first taste of the steak, not even letting myself be embarrassed by the sound. Tobias poured two glasses of wine and drank with me.
He let me finish the steak before he spoke again.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition? Fuck, Tobias. Please tell me this wasn’t my last meal.”
Tobias flinched. Actually flinched, like I’d slapped him. “No. God, no.” He set his wine down, hands trembling slightly. “I would never… I hate that you’re down here, Cove. I hate it.”
“Then let me go,” I said quietly.
He looked away, jaw tight. “I can’t.” When he turned back, his eyes were different - not cold, not calculating. Desperate. “I know what I am. I know this is wrong. But I can’t… I can’t let you leave.”
The silence stretched between us. I could hear the distant breathing of the filtration system through the wall, the same rhythm that had become my only clock.
“Then what is it?” I asked. “What do you want from me?”
Tobias leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He looked exhausted, I realized. Older. The polished philanthropist facade had cracked somewhere in the weeks I’d been down here.
“I want you upstairs,” he said. “I always have, but… it wasn’t plausible at first. I want you in a real bedroom. Your bedroom, with your own bathroom, where you can simply look to the windows if you want to see the ocean. Books. Music. Whatever you need.”
I laughed, but it came out hollow. “In exchange for what?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His fingers traced the rim of his wine glass, round and round.
“I’ve been researching,” he said finally. “Reading. Watching. I want to understand… what it is I want from you. Because Idon’t fully know. I’ve never…” He stopped, throat working. “I’ve never done any of this. With anyone.”
“Any of… what, Tobias?” I asked cautiously.
Tobias sighed, not meeting my eyes. “I’ve never touched anyone. Never wanted to. Not until you.” He looked up, and there was something almost pleading in his expression. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to take anything from you that you don’t give. But I want to explore this. With you.”
“Explore what, exactly?”
“Your body,” he said, his voice steadier now. “I want to learn you. What makes you react, what makes you feel good. I’ve purchased… toys. Devices. Things I can use on you.” He paused, swallowing. “I don’t expect you to touch me. I don’t expect reciprocation. This would be for my… education. And hopefully, for your pleasure.”
I set my wine down, suddenly needing both hands free. “You want to experiment on me.”
“I want to know you,” he corrected, sharp enough that I startled. “It’s not—it wouldn’t be an experiment.”
“What kind of toys?” I asked, hands trembling.
“Vibrators. Plugs. Things for preparation, if we ever…” He stopped. “I’m not interested in penetrative sex. Not yet. Maybe not ever, I’m not sure. I just want to watch you. I want to learn how your body responds. I want to make you feel good, even if the circumstances are… wrong.”
Is he asking me to be a pillow princess in exchange for more freedom???
“And if I say no?”
“Then you stay here,” he said, and I heard the pain in his voice. “And I keep visiting. And I keep hating myself. And nothing changes.”
“That’s not much of a choice.”
“It’s the only one I can give you.”
I took a deep breath. “I want my job back.”
