Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I fight back a sigh. It doesn’t matter what my motivations for holding things off is. Right now I have an angry Alaric in my room and he’s not going anywhere, regardless of my commands. The man might be submissive in most of his interactions with me, but one glance at the stubborn expression on his face tells me everything I need to know.
If I try to send him away again, he’ll dig in his heels and we’ll have a fight on our hands.
He stalks toward me. He takes in my wardrobe change with a sweep of his gaze, lingering on the deep V of my robe before he finally lands on my face. “We need to talk,” Alaric repeats.
I’m not ready. I don’t have the framework for this conversation laid out. For the first time in a very long time, I am not sure what he’s going to say. “Talk.”
“What happens now?”
I raise an eyebrow, striving to keep my faintly amused mask in place. “Now we spend the next seven days fucking Zurielle.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” I step closer. “Are you looking for permission or forgiveness? If you want the former, you have it. The latter, you might as well seek out a priest.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple.” I’m already tired of this conversation. Alaric is beautiful and savage beneath his polished exterior, but he’s nowhere near cold enough to survive this world without someone watching over him. He’s so incredibly lucky that Hades offered him a bargain—and subsequently the Underworld became his caretaker for the last few years. The guilt he’s carting around over allowing Zurielle to walk into this situation of her own will is ridiculous.
Unless…
I tilt my head to the side, considering him. “Did you start to believe the lie, lover?”
“What?” He closes down his expression, which is a tell all its own.
I run my hands up his bare chest. “You spent several weeks in Olympus playing Romeo to her Juliet. Did you start to see a different version of yourself reflected in the stars in her eyes?” I reach his shoulders and skate my nails down his arms. “One where you really are Prince Charming, or at least a knight in shining armor? One where you have honor?”
Alaric drops his gaze. “I know better.”
“Yes, you do.” I lace my fingers through his long enough to give his hands a squeeze and then force myself step back. No matter what else I am, I’m not in the business of tying people to me who don’t want to be here. Not in any kind of long-term way. Better that he leaves now and makes a clean break for both of us. “If you don’t have the stomach for this, leave. It was meant to be a reward after months of hard work, but I’m hardly going to force you to fuck the girl.”
“Ursa, that’s not what I meant.”
This time, I can’t stop my sigh. Alaric is wonderful. Truly, he is. But sometimes I am so godsdamn tired of having to play the dominant party so he can dodge his guilt. Up until this point, he’s been a fun partner, but this hesitance just proves what I already suspected. I can’t trust him enough to lean on him. My frustration gets the best of me and adds some ire to my tone. “Then what did you mean?”
“I just…” He hesitates. “I need you to help me stop thinking.”
I try not to resent him for not asking what I need. I’m the one who’s established the rules in this relationship, and expecting him to guess what I can’t quite make myself put into words isn’t fair. Then again, I’m not feeling particularly fair right now. He wants to be punished? Fine. “Kneel.”
His mouth goes flat. “That’s not—”
“Get on your knees, Alaric.” I inject enough bite into my tone to make him respond instinctively. He kneels in a smooth move, and he’s glaring at the floor because he knows better than to glare at me. I sift my fingers through his dark hair. “You came to me to meet your needs.”
“I came to you hoping I could convince you to let me stay the night in your bed.”
“No.” My bed is fine for fucking, but it’s my sanctuary at night, a place I can let down my walls completely and rest a little bit before I have to don my armor and go back out into the world. If he stays, there will be no rest, not when he’s too focused on his internal conflict to worry about my needs. “You are going back into that room tonight. Would you like a beating or a fucking before you do?”
He tenses and then relaxes on his exhale. “A beating.”
I suspected as much. “Tell me your safe word.”