I had no choice but to obey, which wasn’t my problem. Naked, I could handle. It was the evidence of my arousal that I wanted to hide.
He already knows, I whispered to myself, recalling his superior senses. He can smell it.
That thought made my mouth go dry.
Rather than overthink it, I pulled off my shorts and shirt, refusing to acknowledge my shame at reacting to him. It was just another way for him to win, and I refused to give him that victory. Although, I really wasn’t sure what game we were playing here, or if it was a game at all.
He placed his hand under the spray and nodded. “It’s ready for you.” Then he turned and ran his eyes over my body, his heated gaze falling to my mound. “You’ll need to shave before we leave. I’ll find you a razor.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked him, feeling the need to stand my ground for reasons I couldn’t identify. It just seemed natural to fight him. At least a little.
His lips curled as he stepped into my personal space, his strides forcing me to back up into the counter with dual sinks behind me. He gripped the marble on either side of my hips, his body crowding mine.
“If you don’t, then I’ll shave it for you, Willow.” He drew his nose across my cheekbone to my ear. “I dare you to defy me, pet. Because I’ll very much enjoy punishing you for it.” He nipped my earlobe sharply before adding, “Now be a good girl and take a shower. I’ll bring you up some food after you’re done.”
Ryder pushed away from me with a smirk, picked up my clothes, and made a show of smelling them. “Mmm,” he murmured in approval, his eyes running over me for the thousandth time since we met. “I look forward to tasting you later, Willow.” He turned for the door, then paused with a single reminder tossed over his shoulder: “One week, pet. One week.”
My knees buckled as he left, my heart racing in my chest.
One week, I repeated to myself. Fuck.
Ryder
One Week Later
“Do I need to tell you what will happen if you try to run in the soon-to-be-renamed Silvano City?” I asked Willow after buckling her into the seat beside me on the jet.
I’d seen the glint of a plan flashing in her gaze all week while we’d trained. She was a natural with a gun, quickly picked up the sparring moves I’d taught her, and proved to have decent stamina in terms of running.
But besting me would never happen.
And I needed her to acknowledge that now.
I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, mulling over my question. Finally, she conceded with a short “No.” Because she knew what I’d do to her if she tried to run, and it wouldn’t be enjoyable for either of us.
“Good,” I replied, settling into my seat and meeting Damien’s gaze across from me. He held a newspaper in his lap, his suit an exact replica of the one I’d chosen to wear today. Only, he’d paired his with a tie and I’d left my neck exposed.
“I like her dress,” I informed him, which was my version of a thank-you since he’d selected the wardrobe.
“I know.” He picked up the glass of whiskey beside him that the flight attendant had just dropped off, and took a long sip. “But she still doesn’t look the part.”
My brow furrowed. “She’s in a translucent black gown. Her hair is styled. She has on fuck-me heels. What more can we do?” My cock had saluted her the second she stepped out of her room thirty minutes ago, and it still lay semi-hard for her in my trousers. Because Willow in that dress was a damn tease. That I’d craved her all damn week hadn’t helped the issue.
However, I was sort of enjoying this drawn-out game between us. There were several times I’d scented her interest during our lessons, particularly when I had her pinned down on the ground after a sparring move.
She wanted me—of that, I had no doubt. I could take her right now and she’d submit, but I rather enjoyed the prospect of her begging me for it. And she wasn’t there yet.
“She’s too uptight,” Damien pointed out as the jet began to move. The pilot was an old friend—one of the few I trusted to transport me. He came over the intercom with an expected arrival time, then navigated us into position for takeoff.
I studied Willow as we began to ascend, noting her stiff shoulders and throbbing pulse. “Is this your first flight?” I asked her.
She nodded, her nails digging into the armrest.
I nodded. “See, she’s just nervous about traveling,” I told Damien, not worried. “She’ll calm down once we land.”
He gave me a look. “No, I mean she’s too uptight in general. Harem members fawn over their royals, all pleading for another taste. She barely touches you. The others will notice and wonder why, which is the exact opposite of what you want if she’s to be your little secret. Hell, you haven’t even marked her, Ryder.”
My jaw ticked as his statements registered. I didn’t have a lot of experience with the harem mentality, as that all came about during the political reformation of our society. But he had a point in terms of her reactions to me.
Despite Willow’s clear interest, I also sensed many moments of fear, which I thought might be brought on by her experience in the breeding camp. Except she told me she still couldn’t remember what happened during her time there. I suspected she never would with whatever drugs they’d forced upon her.
I picked up my own drink, took a long swallow, and considered how to handle this.
Willow required an introduction.
And we were running out of time to facilitate the lesson.
It would also give me a reason to check her grooming habits. I could tell through the gown that she’d shaved just as I’d asked, but I wondered how thorough she was with it.
“All right.” I set my glass down and looked at Willow. “Come with me, pet.” We were at a safe enough altitude to move around.
I unbuckled myself and reached over to do the same for her, but she didn’t move, her terror permeating the air.
“See?” Damien muttered.
“Yes.” This wasn’t going to work at all. “I’ll fix it.”
Damien dipped his chin in acknowledgment, saying nothing more as my focus returned to Willow.
“I need you to stand up and follow me,” I told her. “Or we can do this here. With Damien.”
Her blue eyes shot up to mine, her lips parting at the threat I didn’t bother to hide. If she didn’t want to comply, I’d punish her. And I’d use Damien to do it.
“I told you my intentions last week,” I reminded her, referring to our conversation where I warned her that I expected to take full advantage of her sexual training in Silvano City. “It’s time to put your skills to the test. So choose, Willow. Are we doing this here or in the privacy of the back bedroom?”
I needed her on her game and ready when we landed, which gave us less than four hours to rectify this.
“You have three seconds to decide, pet.”
When I reached one on my countdown, she forced herself out of her chair, causing Damien to smirk from his chair. “Pity.”
I ignored his side commentary, my focus on Willow. “Good choice,” I said softly, standing and leading the way to the back of the jet’s cabin. Damien might be disappointed, but I didn’t really want him involved in this. Willow was my pet to train, not his.