But nice.
Groaning, he reared back, holding his forehead the same way I held mine. “Goddammit.”
Ouch!
I rode the wave of pain, slowly blocking it out.
However, Mr. Prest beat me. Rubbing his skin, he shook his head. “I knew you’d be hazardous to my health, but I didn’t think you’d try to knock me unconscious.”
I blinked, eradicating the final shower of stars.
Serves you right.
“I didn’t deserve that.” His black eyes narrowed. “I didn’t hurt you.”
Yes, you did.
Taking a deep breath, he repositioned himself into our original position of knees. His slacks tightened around powerful thighs, straining against the seams. The bulge between his legs seemed larger than Master A, which sent a horrifying cloud through me.
Shedding whatever had just happened, he crooked his finger. “Get up. Seeing as you prefer sitting this way, do what I do.”
What was he trying to achieve? How could I pre-empt his next mind game when he didn’t know himself what he’d make me do?
I felt like a puppy following its leader as I copied his deep breath, sat on my knees, and recentred myself as much as possible. However, I couldn’t stop the jittery feeling he’d conjured inside. I wanted nothing to do with the throbbing interest that was as alien to me as regular meals and going outside.
“Remember, Pim. New rules. What you do, I do. And what I do, you do.” With elegant fingers, he spread the expensive material of his blazer to the sides, revealing the black t-shirt clad torso beneath. Slowly, he shrugged out of it, tossing it off the bed as if it held no value, all while watching me as if I was a priceless seductress.
What does he see in me to justify putting his life on the line?
I ought to wrench my eyes away. To stop looking. But he wanted me to look.
I can’t deny I want to look.
It didn’t matter that I found him an oddity and confusing. It didn’t matter that he cornered my mind by forcing me to stay present. Master A just took. He gave me the grace to turn off my thoughts and abandon my body to do whatever he wanted.
Mr. Prest did not.
Along with rebellion, he brought life and awareness and even though that awareness made me focus on my smarting forehead from his hard skull and the unwanted tingle in my belly, I couldn’t switch off because the night was both long and short.
Soon, it would be over.
Thank God, it will be over.
He’ll leave.
He’d…leave.
My shoulders slumped a little before I remembered I wanted him to leave. I hated him because of the consequences he lumped me with when he’d walked out the door.
Master A would most likely kill me—that was all I had to look forward to. A clean death rather than endless punishment.
Unless my plan works and Mr. Prest steals me.
What did Mr. Prest have to look forward to? An empire he ruled, a kingdom I could only imagine, in a palace I could only dream.
Tearing my eyes away, I did my best to silence unwanted thoughts and fall back into my lifeless position.
“You can look,” he whispered. “I have full intention of looking at you.” His shoulders bunched as he reached over his head and grabbed the back of his t-shirt. With a dark glare, he wrenched the fabric off, undressing a torso I’d only seen in my fantasies.
For a man with mixed authenticities, his body wasn’t confused as to what made him excel in this world. Long, lithe arms with perfectly proportioned biceps and tight forearms. Broad but not too broad chest with pectorals and obliques and a washboard stomach that seemed too strong for his skin.
But none of that mattered as my eyes drifted toward the sweeping masterpiece.
I sucked in an awed breath.
His ribcage was visible. His flesh open, revealing a dragon hidden beneath the bones.
That can’t be.
But it was.
My fingers itched to prove it, to insert my hand into the chamber of his chest and stroke the hissing reptile within.
Somewhere inside me, I knew it wasn’t real, just excellent trickery. Whoever had done the ink had made it look so three dimensional, so realistic, I swore I looked into his body and witnessed his heart beating all while the slithering dragon exhaled smoke, protecting its master like the gatekeeper to his soul.
Mr. Prest didn’t move. Sitting on his heels, he allowed my inspection as I swayed forward, fooled into thinking if I turned left or right, I’d see his spleen, liver, and kidneys. The tattoo was so lifelike, so deep in detail, I squirmed at the thought of real bones pressing against me rather than encased in human flesh.
“It’s not real.” He ran his palm over his side that looked cavernous and gaping. His fingers whispered over his muscles with no blood from an exposed ribcage or being bitten by the hissing dragon in his cavity. “See?”