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I make a sound into the pillow. Dmitri stays there a second longer than he should. Then he stands.

“Sleep well, Elias.”

The door closes.

I lie still. My breathing will not come down. Not yet anyway.

The city hums against the glass. Sirens far away. A life down there that does not know I just got hunted across a private floor by a man who talks about dying like it is a scheduling problem.

My ass pulses.

My cock does too.

I hate that both things are true at once.

Training… Dmitri said it would be tough. He said I would want to quit.

And all that might be true. But if the Russian didn’t already know, he’s seen tonight that there’s no quit in me. Not even the tiniest bit…

The bell is almost pretty. That is what makes it worse…

I wake naked, tangled in expensive sheets, ass pulsing with last night, and snatch the linen up over my chest as the door opens.

“Woah!” I gasp.

Hardy stands there with the little bell already lowered, eyes politely somewhere near my forehead. I don’t feel afraid of him. He is not the man who hunted me across a hidden floor with a crop. He is the man who calls that man Master and still knocks.

“Breakfast is served,” Hardy says. “Master is expecting you.”

Master.

The word goes through me like a swallow of vodka. I blush so hard I can feel it in my throat.

“I’ll come. Just give me a second,” I say.

“Very good, Boy.”

Hardy duly leaves.

I wait until the latch clicks then I drop the sheet and move. Clothes on fast. No shower. No time to look at the welts in a mirror I would have to face. My jeans scrape when I pull them up.

But I welcome the sting. It helps me wake up.

The kitchen is bright enough to feel like a different building…

Fruit. Croissants. Coffee so dark it looks like the darkest of nights.

Dmitri sits across the long table as if the night never happened and also as if every welt on me is a line item he has already filed.

I sit… carefully. But not carefully enough. Dmitri’s eyes note it.

I pick up a cup and pretend sitting is easy.

“We are going on a little scouting mission today,” he says.

Little? Nothing about Dmitri is little.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I reply.