"When you became mine," he replied dryly, long, barefooted strides returning him to the side of the bed as she sat up to consider his offer. "We can discuss that now if you like. Or tomorrow, when you've eaten, slept, and feel more like yourself now that you're free of that place."
Ah, but his sharp, curious woman would notice that he hadn't left it at "free". The news probably could've been broken more gently. He couldn't imagine it would be much of a surprise after having already been under lock and key once, and this clearly not being wherever she had come from. Still. It was going to take a tricky amount of work to bring her around to the understanding that the place she'd call home now was not captivity so much as protection.
Not enslavement or punishment so much as opportunity, care...privilege, perhaps, if she was the type to allow it.
But he also couldn't let her think she had an open tab on indulgence. Connor had rules, and while he was loathe to enforce them while Piper was in her present state, he suspected she was a fighter, would push the limits of this relationship the closer she came into her element. If she tested the boundaries too much, she'd discover he simply didn't take orders. From anyone. Nor was he especially prone to spoiling someone who came to believe they were entitled. Pretty requests from lips that would be pretty too, underneath the bruising, though? Open-ended ones, no less? His eyes twinkled at her and he smiled. It was an impish thing, his dimples digging in deep.
"Anything, it is. Wouldn't want the bed to get damp with that thing, I suppose." He turned slightly, then met her gaze again. Even knowing he should let her rest, give her time, Connor couldn't quite do it this time. Now that she was focused enough to speak so clearly, now he had words from her once more, he wasn't willing to hear them stop. "Do you object to the towel itself, or simply to wearing it? There are other options available...for the next time."
Whatever her answer, he'd nod, and force himself to give her space for a little longer. He continued toward the closet to the far right of the bed. Lingering over clothes that were perfectly fine, Connor shook his head. He wouldn't let her hide from him, not in clothes that would swallow her up. Nor would he be cruel and provide her with something so thin she'd have been better off wearing the towel. He moved past the silk dress shirts, carefully layered and pressed inside the few suit ensembles he owned, ignored the drawers of Henleys and sweaters and workout attire, considered finer things with colors. Thinking to tease her and see what resulted in her present state, Connor slipped a light green button-up shirt from a hanger, then a pair of loose, black meditation pants out of a drawer. He tucked the pants out of sight as he came around the bed, setting only the cotton top on the bedspread before her. "There you are," he shrugged. "Clothing. Not a towel." After a long moment, he would have reached for the pants so the teasing wouldn't prove instead to be a new stressor. Instead, the chime at the suite door went off.
"I'll be right back." Connor moved to it at a clip, remembering with some distress that dreaded "we" word that Ransom had uttered.
There at the door were no less than four of his staff--and Lilly. Connor glanced over his shoulder, then back to the people gathered in the entry off the stairwell. He shook his head. For others he'd brought home, his staff preferred to introduce themselves one at a time. So for them to be collecting here? Piper had made an impact. She certainly had on him, so it shouldn't have been surprising.
Josie was up the stairs next, handing a fluffy, white robe through the hoard.
"Thank you," he said, nodding to her and then to the others in turn. "Not tonight, but thank you."
They took it in stride, dispersing as smoothly as leaves down a stream. Piper didn't need the overwhelm. And even if he knew they wouldn't pity her, but rather rage for her sake, she didn't need to see any more concern tonight. Lilly smiled sadly, the petite blond handing over an overburdened tray that Connor settled on his forearms over the robe.
"Soup," she said with a bob of her head, "make sure she sips it slow and not too much too quickly, now."
There was clearly more she wanted to say, but Connor had already spotted the antibiotic cream, aloe lotion, and cold pack on the tray, as well as the extra bowl, silver spoons, and twin glasses of water. He nodded his thanks again, then backed into the room and toed the door shut.
"The staff was eager to meet you. You have a pass tonight, but tomorrow morning...well. Breakfast should be interesting. And not eaten in bed," he added with a small smile. As efficiently as he could, he slid the tray onto the bedside stand, scooped the pants from behind the bedpost, then set them and the robe beside her before climbing up to join her, firmly staking his place against the headboard. Hauling the tray onto his lap, he rotated it so her bowl and glass were to his left, her spoon closer to her than him to prevent him from being tempted to feed her.
Resisting temptation was never easy for a man used to having his way.
Ah, but his sharp, curious woman would notice that he hadn't left it at "free". The news probably could've been broken more gently. He couldn't imagine it would be much of a surprise after having already been under lock and key once, and this clearly not being wherever she had come from. Still. It was going to take a tricky amount of work to bring her around to the understanding that the place she'd call home now was not captivity so much as protection.
Not enslavement or punishment so much as opportunity, care...privilege, perhaps, if she was the type to allow it.
But he also couldn't let her think she had an open tab on indulgence. Connor had rules, and while he was loathe to enforce them while Piper was in her present state, he suspected she was a fighter, would push the limits of this relationship the closer she came into her element. If she tested the boundaries too much, she'd discover he simply didn't take orders. From anyone. Nor was he especially prone to spoiling someone who came to believe they were entitled. Pretty requests from lips that would be pretty too, underneath the bruising, though? Open-ended ones, no less? His eyes twinkled at her and he smiled. It was an impish thing, his dimples digging in deep.
"Anything, it is. Wouldn't want the bed to get damp with that thing, I suppose." He turned slightly, then met her gaze again. Even knowing he should let her rest, give her time, Connor couldn't quite do it this time. Now that she was focused enough to speak so clearly, now he had words from her once more, he wasn't willing to hear them stop. "Do you object to the towel itself, or simply to wearing it? There are other options available...for the next time."
Whatever her answer, he'd nod, and force himself to give her space for a little longer. He continued toward the closet to the far right of the bed. Lingering over clothes that were perfectly fine, Connor shook his head. He wouldn't let her hide from him, not in clothes that would swallow her up. Nor would he be cruel and provide her with something so thin she'd have been better off wearing the towel. He moved past the silk dress shirts, carefully layered and pressed inside the few suit ensembles he owned, ignored the drawers of Henleys and sweaters and workout attire, considered finer things with colors. Thinking to tease her and see what resulted in her present state, Connor slipped a light green button-up shirt from a hanger, then a pair of loose, black meditation pants out of a drawer. He tucked the pants out of sight as he came around the bed, setting only the cotton top on the bedspread before her. "There you are," he shrugged. "Clothing. Not a towel." After a long moment, he would have reached for the pants so the teasing wouldn't prove instead to be a new stressor. Instead, the chime at the suite door went off.
"I'll be right back." Connor moved to it at a clip, remembering with some distress that dreaded "we" word that Ransom had uttered.
There at the door were no less than four of his staff--and Lilly. Connor glanced over his shoulder, then back to the people gathered in the entry off the stairwell. He shook his head. For others he'd brought home, his staff preferred to introduce themselves one at a time. So for them to be collecting here? Piper had made an impact. She certainly had on him, so it shouldn't have been surprising.
Josie was up the stairs next, handing a fluffy, white robe through the hoard.
"Thank you," he said, nodding to her and then to the others in turn. "Not tonight, but thank you."
They took it in stride, dispersing as smoothly as leaves down a stream. Piper didn't need the overwhelm. And even if he knew they wouldn't pity her, but rather rage for her sake, she didn't need to see any more concern tonight. Lilly smiled sadly, the petite blond handing over an overburdened tray that Connor settled on his forearms over the robe.
"Soup," she said with a bob of her head, "make sure she sips it slow and not too much too quickly, now."
There was clearly more she wanted to say, but Connor had already spotted the antibiotic cream, aloe lotion, and cold pack on the tray, as well as the extra bowl, silver spoons, and twin glasses of water. He nodded his thanks again, then backed into the room and toed the door shut.
"The staff was eager to meet you. You have a pass tonight, but tomorrow morning...well. Breakfast should be interesting. And not eaten in bed," he added with a small smile. As efficiently as he could, he slid the tray onto the bedside stand, scooped the pants from behind the bedpost, then set them and the robe beside her before climbing up to join her, firmly staking his place against the headboard. Hauling the tray onto his lap, he rotated it so her bowl and glass were to his left, her spoon closer to her than him to prevent him from being tempted to feed her.
Resisting temptation was never easy for a man used to having his way.
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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