“I’m going to prepare breakfast. After you finish here, I expect you to wait on your knees until I return.”
I gulped. “Why, Master?” I stood on the bathmat, tightly clutching the towel around my body. It didn’t matter that he’d already seen me, had touched my most private places. I’d never be comfortable parading around naked in front of him.
“Because I ordered you to.”
He left, and I waited until the echo of the door rang through the basement before I dried off. I took my time blow-drying my hair and applying makeup, but eventually I couldn’t stall any longer. He still hadn’t returned. With nothing else to do, I moved to the middle of the room and sank to my knees.
My thoughts drifted to Eve. I wondered what she was doing—was she eating breakfast? I hoped they were able to get her to eat something. I also thought of Ian. Had he checked on her already? Suddenly, excitement fluttered in my stomach. If I behaved the way Gage wanted me to, took my punishment without complaint and sucked up to the bastard, maybe he’d let me call to check on her. I wondered if I’d get lucky enough to catch Ian at the hospital. Gage didn’t have to know that “Dr. Kaplan” was more to me than a doctor.
I jumped as the door opened. He leisurely strolled down the stairs and stopped inches in front of me. He had no qualms about displaying the bulge behind his zipper. I looked up at him as dread squeezed my insides.
“I expect you to greet me on your knees from here on out. Understand?”
“Yes, Master,” I answered automatically, though in reality I didn’t understand any of it. How could anyone treat another human being this way? Maybe I was the damaged one, and abusive men naturally flocked to me.
“Hungry?” he asked.
How did I answer that? My stomach growled, yet I feared he wasn’t talking about food. “Yes, Master.”
His mouth curved into a grin. “Seeing you on your knees, calling me Master . . .” He rubbed himself. “Do you know what that does to me?”
“No, Master,” I said, as if denying the evidence of his arousal would make it go away.
“You please me, Kayla. You’ve caught on quickly, faster than I thought you would.”
I lowered my eyes.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
There was no mistaking the authority in his tone. I raised my eyes and didn’t dare look away. Not with my ass still sore from the whipping he’d given me last night. Twenty-four hours hadn’t passed, and already I’d been reduced to a pathetic woman on my knees, my sole purpose to service and obey a man. Deep within, I silently screamed in rebellion and indignation. I hadn’t hated myself this much since before my divorce.
He held out his hand, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Come on, breakfast awaits.”
I couldn’t begin to describe my relief as I rose to my feet. Confronted with his arousal while on my knees made me ill. He led me upstairs, and I fought the urge to cover my breasts. I’d never walked around my own apartment naked, so the idea of walking around his home in the nude made me vulnerable on a whole new level. I suspected that was his intention.
We entered the dining room, and he dumped a bag of uncooked rice onto the hardwood floor next to the table. “Your punishment for getting mouthy with me last night.” He pointed to the rice. “On your knees again.”
I sank down, gritting my teeth as the grains dug into my skin.
Gage sat in a chair and began feeding me fruit. He fed breakfast to me bite-by-bite, and by the time he spooned up some yogurt, I wanted to slather my burning knees with it.
“I want to talk about your previous sexual experience.” He fed me another spoonful of yogurt. “I’m going to ask you some questions,” he continued, “and I want your complete honesty. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Have you ever had anal sex?”
I lowered my head without thinking. What the question implied terrified me; I couldn’t breathe.
“Kayla? I won’t remind you again to look at me when I’m talking to you. Next time it happens, you’ll be punished.”
My gaze immediately shot to his.
He smiled. “That’s better. Now answer the question.”
“Once, Master,” I said, my voice so low that he asked me to repeat myself.
“Did you like it?”
I shook my head, my throat constricting as the memories I’d worked so hard to bury burst through and flooded my mind.
“Why not?” He sounded genuinely curious.
“I-I . . . he forced me.”
His face darkened. “And now you think I’m doing the same.” It was a statement rather than a question.