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Somehow, seeing her fully clothed like this was even more alluring than having the gown open before me. The beaded bodice was sweetly tight against her torso, and its neckline plunged downward, showcasing more of her breasts than I’d ever seen. More of her breasts than I could handle, apparently. My gaze was stuck there like I was some untried youth and not a monster male with experience and control. I’d been with other women. Seen all there was to see, so to speak. And yet somehow, just the curving plunge of her cleavage in this dress was enough to make my entire body feel as if it was unwinding and growing tighter, all at once. Her scent pulsed through the warm air, caressing me. I kept myself in place with furious resolve, my hips desperate to slam forward, my cock aching to grind against her, my hands itching to undo every ribbon I’d just painstakingly tied.
Wynthea’s own breath was coming quick now, too, like that of a frightened doe under a hunter’s stare. And I knew that I had gone too far. I’d gotten too close, made her too uncomfortable. Pushed the balance of it all too far to my side, using my position of power over her to force her into this dark corner with me, where only my fingers could tighten the stays that bound her.
She didn’t seem to have noticed my erection. Hopefully, I could salvage this. By getting as far away from her as possible.
“I will ask Frilda to come undo the dress so that it may be packed for purchase,” I choked out.
With that, I thrusted the fabric wall of the tent aside
And fled.
Despite my concern that I’d pushed too far at the market, I found I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop taking care of Wynthea. I needed to give her more. Provide even more for her. I started cooking some of the meals, to Hildfree’s great consternation, just so that I could see Wynthea’s beautiful mouth chew the food I’d made her. When I got back to my room each night, I imagined her swallowing my cock the way she’d swallowed down the meat I’d roasted. I leaned my forehead against the wall between our rooms, trying to get as close to her as possible, while I viciously fisted my erection.
Seeing her walk the halls of my castle and eat the food I made in the clothing I’d bought for her satisfied me so deeply that I worried I’d grown rather sick in the head. It became an obsession – making sure she was utterly taken care of by my hand and mine alone.
As the weeks wore on and our contract came close to winding down, panic began to mount. The thought of her leaving, even though I’d always known she would, opened up a pit of terrifying despair before me. I didn’t want to lose the light she’d brought into my world. The smiles, the optimism, the care that she extended so easily to everyone (even when I wished she’d only extend it to me).
Hildfree caught me in the castle’s workshop one night about a fortnight before Wynthea’s planned departure.
“What are you building?” she asked, staring at me as I positioned the pieces of wood carefully before fastening them together with controlled blows of my hammer.
“A dollhouse,” I muttered.
She blinked slowly several times in a row.
“You play with dolls now?” she finally asked. “Well, you’re never too old to find a new hobby, I suppose.”
“It’s not for me,” I grunted, sweating profusely as I worked to position a tiny door in its minuscule doorframe. My large fingers weren’t meant for work this finicky and, frankly, it was a pain in my Orcborne ass.
“It’s for Wynthea.” Hildfree stated it instead of asking, needing no confirmation. She was entirely too clever, that woman. And entirely too good at reading me.
Entirely too good at knocking me off-balance, too, which she did with her next words.
“Don’t human men usually propose marriage with a ring?”
“A ring to – what?!” My fingers jerked, snapping the thin little door into two jagged pieces.
“You owe me a new door,” I muttered darkly, tossing the broken pieces into the nearby fireplace while Hildfree howled with laughter.
“Would you kindly get a hold of yourself?” I snapped.
When her laughter finally subsided, she just shook her head at me.
“I don’t know why my mention of marriage and rings is so shocking to you, old friend. Anyone with working eyes can see you’re entirely lost to that little human. You have been since her tiny feet crossed this threshold on the very first day.”
Curse her, she was right. I knew she was right.
“I’m her employer,” I ground out. “Wynthea came here in dire straits. I have no interest in forcing her into something she doesn’t want.” She’d already gone through that once, submitting to the Matchers Guild and their marriage match because she’d had no other choice.
I didn’t want her to be mine because she had no other choice.
“How do you know you’d be forcing her?”
I snorted at her insinuation.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She was relieved beyond measure when she realized I was not her fiancé,” I retorted. “She did not want a marriage match. She just wanted security.”
Hildfree gave a cavalier shrug.
