Page 100 of Plug and Claim

“I’m having breakfast with you.”

“Well…don’t. I’d prefer to eat alone...and unchained.”

Nathaniel’s only response was to pass her a small white towel. It was wet.

“What’s this?” she asked, taking it.

“To clean your face. But if you’d rather eat with your face covered in my—”

“I would rather you let me shower,” she interrupted, patting her face generously with the damp towel. It was no replacement for a hot shower, and they both knew it. There was little she could do about where his cum had matted her hair, but she felt significantly better after wiping her face. “And you could unchain me.”

“Soon.” Nathaniel began eating, his movements smooth and refined. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?” she asked, downing the glass of orange juice in one go. She was still thirsty.

Nathaniel refilled her glass from a jug. “Such as, what is your favourite food?”

Kira prodded an egg with her fork, splitting the yolk. She was not in the mood to make small talk. “I’ll tell you what I don’t like. This.”

“Eggs?”

“This Hollandaise sauce. It’s too runny.”

“Is it, now?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t. The yellow sauce was rich and creamy, with a velvety texture that melted in her mouth.

“Hmm.” Nathaniel chewed thoughtfully. “I’ll have to practise.”

“Don’t bother for my sake. This—” she waved her hand at the plates of food “—will not be a regular thing.”

“You don’t like brunch?”

“I don’t like you. Once you’ve held up your end of the bargain, you’re never going to see me again.”

He would be dead, buried six feet beneath the ground—but she would have to remember to get his hollandaise recipe first.

“Have you considered I might miss you?”

She froze, the fried mushrooms slipping off her fork. Her grip tightened on the utensil. “Have you considered I’m armed?”

His lip twitched and didn’t answer, his calmness in the face of her threat irking her.

Whatever.

She focused on her food, taking her frustration out on a pastry which ended up being delicious.

“Victoria made the pastries,” Nathaniel volunteered. “She’s the one who taught me to cook, although, I must admit that eggs are the only food I know how to make.”

Kira narrowed her eyes at him, trying to make sense of his weird attempt at small talk. She might have been more amiable, had he not chained her to the fucking bed. “Just eggs, huh?”

“Just eggs.”

She pretended to dwell on this. “Do you do your own dishes?”

“Always.”