Page 119 of By His Play

I might have an endless list of things I want to do to her, but none of them are happening until she’s eaten.

“Good girl, remember?” I say before kissing the tip of her nose and walking to the bag I abandoned when I got back earlier.

My skin tingles where she watches me work, but I don’t look back or let her know I’m aware of her attention. Although, when I’m done and finally turn her way, I think it’s pretty obvious by the tenting of my sweats again.

“You really love sandwiches, huh?” she muses as I walk toward her with two plates in my hands.

Walking behind her, I lower her plate before brushing my lips against her ear.

“It’s not the food, Luck. It’s everything I’m going to do to you once we’ve finished it.”

All the air rushes from her lungs as she shudders on the stool.

“Eat up, baby. You’re going to need your energy,” I promise before pulling away and taking a seat beside her.

We eat in silence, but the air is charged with everything we want to say.

I demolish mine in only a few minutes, leaving Effie to nibble at hers.

To my delight, she eats more of it than I was expecting, and certainly more than she has for at least a week.

See…this little deal is good in more ways than one.

It’s going to help her find herself again.

“Done?” I ask when she pushes her plate away.

She glances over but doesn’t hold my eyes. She doesn’t think she’s done enough to please me.

Fuck. She’s so fucking perfect.

“Y-yeah. I can’t?—”

“It’s okay,” I tell her, cupping her jaw and turning her to face me. “You did good, baby.” Standing on the stool, I take her hand and help her to her feet. “Are you ready for dessert?” I ask.

She gasps, staring up at me with wide, desire-filled eyes before sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.

“Words, Effie. I need your words.”

“Y-yes,” she whimpers.

I search her eyes, looking for any hint of a lie.

I don’t find any.

“This isn’t going to be fast. And it might not be what you’re expecting. But I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Okay.”

“If at any point you don’t want to continue?—”

“Stop,” she says, stepping closer. “I trust you, Kieran. Do you worst.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I retake her hand and lead her to her room.

My heart is racing as we step through the door, and irritatingly, my confidence wavers a little.

Suddenly, I feel like a teenager again who’s about to attempt his first time.

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