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What would it feel like to take him in her mouth? Would he fit?
“Olivia.”
“Huh?”
“What day is it?”
“Ah…” Oh, she was terrible with days and time. Losing track of both on a regular basis. “Monday?”
“No. How long have you been asleep?”
She frowned. She’d definitely slept longer than she had in… forever. “Eight hours?”
His expression warned her that was a big, fatno.
“Ten?” Her eyes widened in shock. “Twelve?”
“It’s Friday morning, Olivia. You’ve been asleep for just over three days straight.”
No, that was impossible. She’d have been less surprised if he told her she’dworkedfor three days straight. Sleeping for that length of time seemed… excessive. “But… I remember…”
“Going to the bathroom? Protein shakes?” He gave her a knowing look. “I wasn’t sure you would. Waking you was a trial in itself, and you were hardly lucid. You’ve exhausted yourself to the point where your body is more acclimatized to functioning in limp mode, Olivia. So fucking tired that even sleepwalking was too much.”
She curled her hand between her bare breasts. “I don’t—”
Unfolding his arms, he grasped her head, sliding his fingers through the riot of bed-mussed curls to grip her skull gently. “It stops now. Atticus has given you a month’s bereavement leave, with permission to take more if needed. If I catch you on a laptop, there’ll be consequences. If I find you working on anything other than expanding your knowledge of pop culture, there will be bigger consequences.”
“Zeke—”
“No, Olivia. This might be overextending my reach as your Dom, especially with the… relationship being as new as it is,” he said with the slightest frown, “but Atticus was right when he said you need one. Drowning yourself in work isn’t healthy. On the heels of a close family death, it’s dangerous. My job as your Dom isn’t just to fuck you as creatively as my imagination allows.”
Was it wrong that she loved having him cradle her head this way? The support of his hands felt as though he was lifting the weight off her shoulders, giving her room to breathe. As gentle as he was, it didn’t escape her notice that he was enunciating his words fully, not drawling them in the way that made her squirm.
He was deadly serious.
“It means I have a responsibility to keep you safe and unharmed, even from yourself. So, starting today, you’ll have a new routine.”
“Um, no. I have my own…” She trailed off when his frown deepened.
“Your own routine is in the trash, angel. Mornings now consist of a shower, breakfast, exercise, and either reading or watching TV.” He tilted her head back, gauging her reaction. “A healthy meal at lunch, followed by something stimulating, then a nap. We’ll adjust dinner and evening plans as we go.”
That all sounded horriblyscheduled. She liked things in their own place, neatly organized. Everything but her daily routine. Freedom to work as she pleased was vital to keeping her anxiety contained.
“I know you’re going to hate it. Breaking bad habits isn’t easy, but if we don’t break this one… I’m scared of what will happen if we don’t.”
“Zeke, come on. It’s not like I’m putting myself in danger,” she tried to reason.
“Sixteen-hundred-mile trip in a car not fit to star in a demolition derby,” he reminded her pointedly. “Neglecting to keep Atticus informed of your circumstances. Attempting to stay in a house riddled with enough biohazards to kill a cat nine times over.” His eyes darkened, and she realized that she might be in danger now. “Stayingin a house, unescorted, with a man who’s lusted after you since you were a fucking child.”
Olivia cringed, admitting how bad those infractions sounded when said aloud in a string of offenses. Perhaps she had been slightly inconsiderate with her own safety, but now she was aware of how… reckless she’d been, she could rectify that and make efforts to not be quite so naïve in future.
She was about to tell him that when he bent and kissed her forehead.
“I’ve waited a long time for you, angel. I’m not losing you now I’ve got you. That bond you talk about in your letter? Yeah, I feel it. It’s strong and vibrant, and so fuckin’ possessive that all I want to do is drag you to Loki’s shop and ask him to tattoo my goddamn name on you.”
“That would certainly make a statement,” she mumbled, dazed by the declaration.
“Don’t think I won’t do it if you push me past my limits.”
