Page 115 of Cruel Knots

The two men make me feel like a true princess as they fuss about me. While Damien dries my hair, Leon massages lotion into my skin.

“I want to go back to sleep,” I moan.

“You need to eat breakfast first,” Damien says in a commanding tone.

I groan, sinking into the soft, mattress.

Leon chuckles and grabs my wrist, pulling me up in a sitting position.

“Have you forgotten you’re naked?” he asks, licking the corner of his lips. “If you don’t want round two of what we just did, you’ll get dressed.”

His heated gaze is enough of a threat that I grab a sheet to cover myself. My entire body feels sore but I make the effort to walk to the closet.

Picking out a simple shirt and jeans, I start getting dressed for the day. Every movement makes me groan. I’m hungry but given a choice, I’ll choose to sleep.

Damien is fully dressed but Leon lounges around in a towel that he’s tied low around his hips. The urge to lick those perfectly chiseled abs overwhelms me at once.

Cool yourself, I chide, exasperated by my sore but hungry pussy.

A knock sounds on the door.

Damien strides forward to open it. I walk behind him, eager to know if Lilja has come around to call me for breakfast.

A strange man appears at the door, holding the handle of a food cart.

“Thanks, Scott,” Damien says, taking over the cart and wheeling it inside the room. “Close the door,” he adds to me.

Obeying him, I follow him to the couch in the corner.

“Sit down,” Damien orders. He opens the lid off the dishes one by one, filling the room with the aroma of freshly made coffee, pancakes, and eggs.

I take a seat beside Leon who throws an arm around me and pulls me close.

“What about Lilja and Mikhail?” I ask as Damien hands me a loaded plate.

“They’re not home yet,” Damien says, handing Leon a dish of red stew.

“What are you having?’ I ask curiously as the scent of warm spices wafts into my nostrils.

“Chicken paprikash with rice,” Leon explains. Spooning the rich stew, he holds it out to me. “Want to try?”

I wrap my lips around the spoon. At once, my tongue is hit with the warmth of peppers and garlic. I also notice a tang of sour cream and a hint of parsley that helps to cool my palate.

“It’s delicious,” I say, eyeing the massive bowl in his hand.

Leon chuckles. “I’m surprised you don’t mind the spice.”

“I used to love Middle Eastern food,” I say with an enthusiasm I haven’t felt in years. “Dad used to take me to this restaurant in town where they served kebabs and all kinds of lovely curries and stews. They were my favorite growing up.”

“Let me guess,” Damien says in a deep, grim tone. “Callum put a stop to that too?”

“Not exactly,” I say, frowning. “I never told him about that restaurant. If I had, he’d have spoiled my happy memories of the place by dragging me there. I learned to bury my secrets quickly.”

“Eat,” Damien says shortly and continues eating his plate of scrambled eggs.

I glance over at Leon. He’s wolfing down a plate of rice and the chicken stew like a starved man. It’s a moment before I realize that he has been starving over the past few days.

Damien gets done with his food first. Leaving the plate on the coffee table, he goes over to the TV and picks up the remote.

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