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My grip tightens on the doorknob, and I nod. “Yes. Dinner. What are you hungry for?”
“Dinner?” Her eyes dart to the clock and she chuckles softly. “Maybe something light, like a stir-fry?”
“Consider it done.”
As I turn to leave, racking my brain for what ingredients I have that I could toss into the meal, Alena leaps off the bed and hurries over.
“Can I come with you?”
“Of course.”
Habit has me reaching for the silver chain dangling from her collar, but to my surprise, Alena takes my hand and smiles eagerly up at me. It’s a smile that melts me, so I allow it and lead her down the stairs to the kitchen. She bounces slightly on her toes with each step, then slides onto one of the stools and sucks in a short, sharp breath.
That must be the plug nestled inside her. That’s become a constant thing, even though we’re technically on a pause for her to recover.
“What put you in the mood to cook?” Alena asks, plucking a daisy from the small vase on the counter and twiddling it between her fingers.
I can’t tell her the truth. How my tentative deal with the Irish is on a knife edge because I kidnapped her and interrupted the flow of the Orlova way of life. How I’ve been planning to oust her father for months for the good of the Family, or how close we are to being discovered.
“I’m restless,” I tell her instead, gathering veg and chicken from the fridge. “And I missed you.”
“Aw, I missed you too.” She giggles.
I’m not much of a cook, but I can manage a stir-fry. A lot of chopping and tossing things into a wok with a sweet soy sauce that Alena prefers, and we’re halfway there.
“So, how was your day?” Alena asks above the sizzling of the meat. My hand pauses briefly. Is she searching for specific information or is she genuinely curious?
Trust is building between us, that much is true, but I am still wary.
“Mundane,” I reply. “You know how it is. Lots of barking orders, go here, do that, threaten that guy.” I toss the ingredients in the wok as the scents of spices mingles in the air. “I’d rather hear about your day.”
“Because my day is so exciting,” she scoffs. She straightens up and tilts her head. “I finished the pirate story I was reading. It was amazing!”
My mind drifts back to catching her touching herself on the CCTV.
“And now I’m reading an archeology book, although that one is a little harder to follow.”
“Is that something you’re interested in?”
“A little,” she muses. “All the treasure hunting and excavation in the pirate story has me interested. I mean, who doesn’t want to be Tomb Raider, right?”
I glance over my shoulder, and she meets my gaze instantly. I would absolutely not be against seeing Alena dressed up like in Tomb Raider. Taking in her body, it’s pleasing to see how well her body is healing from the whip a few days ago.
“And you’re healing okay? No issues or concerns?”
“Nope,” she replies, popping the P as she does so. “I’m fine. Always.”
“Good.”
“Although…”
“Yes?” I raise a brow, and she presses both palms on the counter.
“Can you change my plug? I know you said the silicone would be softer, but I miss the metal ones. They’re a little heavier and more… comforting.” Her cheeks flare pink as if admitting such a thing is shameful. Heat pulls toward my crotch, and I smile. Having Alena actively interested in these things is something I was sure would take longer.
“Of course. Go choose which one.”
Alena beams at me and slides from the stool, then darts away. The plugs are kept in my bedroom, a selection of silicone and metal ones of all colors and designs. The princess ones are my favorite. Watching Alena bend over and catching a glimpse of a glittering crystal is sweet.
