“I’ll send in wine and food,” Darius continues in a sullen monotone. “When you’re finished supping, ring if you need me.”
With that, he turns, seizes the doorknob in a fist already shaking with rage, and exits, slamming the door behind him. I will pay for this later. And I’m afraid I’ll pay for it in ways I never have before.
Why did Darius ever agree to this when it’s clear he doesn’t want to? Clearly, there is a price for everything…
I turn my attention back to the stranger. He actually smiles at me, and it’s like watching day break against the sky. His smile makes me absurdly hopeful. For what? I’m unsure.
“What an unpleasant little man,” he murmurs, almost to himself. When he turns those piercing tawny eyes on me, the air batters around in my lungs again as my mind scrambles to remember just how to breathe. The man tilts his head curiously at me, observing me with no more than casual interest.
“Yes,” I say, unsure of what more I should say. If anything.
“Why do you stay with him?”
It’s my turn to lift a curious brow. It seems as though the stranger genuinely doesn’t understand. He waits in silence for me to respond, as if this question is an important one to him. Can’t he see just how helpless Darius has rendered me? Can’t he see that I rely on Darius for everything? For my very life?
But that’s going to change soon, or so I’ve promised myself. One of these days, when I save enough coins, I’m going to leave this wretched place. I’m going to steal away into the dark and I’m never going to look back. Without a drug to sustain me, I’ll have a wretched few weeks while I go through withdrawals. And, presuming I survive those withdrawals, I won’t have any other option but to flee Ascor. Too many people know my face here. Too many people know to whom I belong. All it would take is one lech to come after me and any gainful employment I’m able to accept would be stripped away. Staying with Darius isn’t a good option, but it’s the only one I have… at present.
I allow the stranger a shaky smile in lieu of a response. Scooping out a small portion of my precious winnings, I offer him a bump. “Would you like some?” I hope he’ll say no.
The man stares at the powder with a vaguely disgusted expression. That would be a ‘no’, then. Unthinking hurt flashes through me, though it’s completely ludicrous for me to care what this stranger thinks of me. He’s paid for one night, after all. I’m now his whore and in the morning, he’ll be gone and I’ll never see him again. I should probably just be grateful he’s even bothering to try to make conversation.
We stand in strained silence for a few minutes until Darius returns. I discreetly take the bump of coke, not looking up to see what this stranger thinks of it. In the background, I hear Darius as he drapes a table. I turn to see him smoothing the bumps of a linen cloth and then he places two glasses onto the table, alongside a platter of grapes, melon, figs, crackers and cheeses. My stomach does a joyful little pirouette at the sight of the fare being laid out. A growing part of me doesn’t care what this man does to me, so long as I’m allowed some of the meal. It’ll be the best thing I’ve eaten in weeks, maybe even months.
“Enjoy,” Darius bites out before backing out of the room again. He glares at me in a way that promises punishment when this man leaves tomorrow. I feel my stomach drop down to my toes.
When the stranger and I are alone again, the man gestures at the two chairs beside the table. “Sit and eat. You look famished.” As if to lead by example, he sits down and smiles up at me.
I hesitate, even as my stomach yearns toward the food and growls audibly, embarrassing me. The man offers me an understanding smile and waves toward the food once more.
What if he’s baiting me like a dog, and intends to hurt me the second I lay a finger on the meal? After all, I haven’t done anything to earn such a reward yet. Perhaps, if I sat on his lap? If I pretended to be more interested in his cock than I was in the food? Yes. That would entitle me to a bit at least, wouldn’t it?
He watches with concern as I stumble away from the vanity, still unsteady from the morning’s withdrawal. I’m already feeling miles better than I was, but it appears I’m a few apples short of a full cart.
The man inhales in what appears to be surprise as I sink onto his lap. His tawny eyes fly open wide as he stares down at me, even as those strong hands settle at the small of my back, keeping me from sliding off his lap.
“What are you doing?” His voice is a low, melodic murmur. I blink coquettishly up at him, forcing my lips to twist into a playful smile the way Darius has instructed me. Not only do I dance, but I have to pretend all my visitors… arouse me. And Darius has taught me how to wear such an expression.
“I’m sitting on your lap,” I purr. “Unless you want me to move?”
There’s a glint of dark humor in those fathomless eyes for a just a moment before his hands slide beneath my ass. They don’t curl around my flesh and squeeze, the way I expect. He just lifts me carefully and deposits me on the chair beside him. It’s all done so effortlessly and with such amusement, that I don’t feel the sting of rejection as
