Page 68 of Born for Silk

“Let me see you.” When he pulls my hands away from my face, his blue eyes dive into mine. "I'm going to do that,” he purrs, his tongue lashing out to taste his lips as he talks, “every time I need to make amends. It will be often, little creature. I’m short-tempered, but I'm keeping you. Understand?”

I blink at him, floating. "How?"

"Just obey me. Do as I say. I'll spoil you. You'll always be safe with me."

"Always?"

Questions fire inside my brain all at once: what about when I’ve finished birthing? What happens then? He must mean, until then. Correct? Until I’ve fulfilled my Meaningful Purpose. Then I will be a Sired Mother, and…

Blossom’s words echo in my hazy mind, ‘nothing lasts forever. Enjoy it while it lasts.’

Okay.

I can do that.

Can’t I?

He strokes his knuckles down my blushing cheek. "Look at you. Dragged into depravity with me. Embarrassed by how much you enjoy the way I lick your wet pussy."

“My what?”

He taps my nose. "Now that I've eaten. It is your turn, little creature.”

Aiding my shaky body, he helps me sit again, my muscles like goo, my brain mush—all my anatomy basically loose and gummy. I like it.

He grabs a muffin from within a glass dome container and holds it out for me, the fluffy pastry looking small in his big hand.

I take it, but notice it’s got a dollop of that yellow pudding stuff on the top. My nose creases for a moment but I soften it. I’ve never been a fan of it. We were served it on apples in the aviary.

His brows furrow. "What is it? You don't like something.”

"No. It's fine.” I smooth my silken gown down my legs. “I’m dizzy, is all.” I lower the muffin to my lap. “What did you just do to me? What was that part of me at the top, a… button… or something, that you touched?”

“You know all about my anatomy, but the part of you that is specifically for your pleasure, you know nothing about. Interesting.” His nose dips into my hair, and he hums. “I will show you very soon. I will take you on a little tour of all the pretty parts that will make you moan for me. But, for now, tell me what is wrong with that muffin."

I try to focus. "It's fine, my king.”

He leans back to stare down at me. "Fine is not acceptable. Ever. Tell me what you want, or I'll summon The Trade Cooks in here and have them slave away all night until they create something worthy of more than a fine from you."

"Don’t do that.” I breathe out hard. “I just don't like the yellow pudding stuff on the top."

"Custard.”

"Yes."

His lips quirk. "That’s lemon butter."

I look at the blob. "Oh."

My face feels warm from what he did to me, and when he scoops a dollop of the lemon butter onto his finger, pleasure stirs me to a puddle.

I instantly wrap my mouth around the tip, sucking the sweet, citrus flavours, moaning.

His eyes darken and he steps backward, leaning against the opposite counter, his gaze never leaving me. “Eat.”

I look down and see the hard, long length between his legs even through his pants. I know how big that is. How thick and hard. In the Silk House, when I imagined the male anatomy, I always considered it would be… tender.

I lick the butter from the top of the muffin, and it pulses in his pants. Shit.