Page 58 of The Gambler's Prize
“Guilty as charged,” he says. “You knew I was a slut when you won me.”
There’s an off note in his voice all of a sudden. It veers from flirtatious into shaky. Is that shame? Something I never expected to hear from my sunny, outgoing, confident little aristocrat. Has someone called him a slut before? I’d like to get my hands on them, teach them to give him the respect he deserves. He looks up at me, eyes questioning. I claim his mouth again, soft and gentle, taking him for my own but with reverence this time, swallowing his little moans. Then I smooth back his hair and fix the little velvet bow at the back. He looks up at me, biting his lip. That expression in his eyes looks like awe. Stars.I’ve never met a submissive aristocrat before. At least, not one who would admit it to me, a lowly coachman.
I give him a few moments to calm down and for the evidence of his arousal to fade, careful not to smirk this time.
“Come on,” I say, fluffing up his hair one last time until he looks just perfect. “I’ll buy us some lunch.”
“Bribing me with food to make up for being such a brutal tyrant?” he says.
“Brutal tyrant, sure. Forgive me for trying to save you from being incapacitated by a crossbow bolt.”
“I told you, that was never going to happen,” he says.
“And I told you it was my call.”
He pouts but takes my arm again, looking happy with that thought.
We stroll over to the food stalls. I head straight for thekinarpastries, which are a beguiling mix of sweet and savory. They’re cooked in expensiveharoil, with the fruit filling soaked in finest brandy, and the tops dusted with rare salt that costs the earth. They’re delicacies. Florian looks unsure.
“Boss, you know my wages won’t cover those,” he says.
“Fuck your wages, I’ve got it.”
“But—”
“Florian,” I say sharply. “Enough.”
He subsides and lets me buy him a bag of pastries. I’d pay three times as much to watch him lick the mix of salt and sugar from his fingers, wondering what that dainty little tongue could do to certain parts of my anatomy.
Chapter 25
Florian
My heart soars high as the hot air balloon that flies over the crowds. Shit, did I really just think that? It’s like something a thirteen-year-old would write in their journal. I don’t care. Falling for my boss has brought out my dramatic side. At first I was pissed when he dragged me out of the archery demonstration, especially considering how much love I was getting from the crowd. Then I realized it was actually prettyhot, the way he stepped in and decided I was too precious to risk. And yes, the laws here in Galbrava are a travesty and something should be done about it, but now that we’re falling for each other it doesn’t seem the worst thing in the world to be forced to obey my boss. With the mess I’ve made of my life, maybe it’s time someone else takes over for a while. He can’t do a worse job than me. Actually, he’s doing a much better job. No gambling, no drinking, all that exercise as we work side by side, watching over me all the time, protecting me from any danger... I’ll probably live to a hundred and fifty at this rate.
When he made love to me, he was so tender. I don’t know what’s changed between us, but I’m not going to risk ruining it by analyzing it too much. All I know is, I feel so warm and safe in the focus of his dark eyes. He can’t hide the affection there anymore. Then there’s his other side. Equally appealing. The dominant way he spoke to me after the archery demonstration. Backing me into the wall. Telling me toobey. My cock stirs, hopefully. I clench my thigh muscles, reminding myself I’ll have to wait until we get home before I can indulge that feeling again.
“Next balloon flight in ten minutes,” an announcer yells.
The voice jolts me back to the present. I try to forget my horniness and savor the moment. Balloon flights don’t come around every week, and my boss has offered to come flying with me. This is going to be ultra romantic. The price is steep, but apparently he doesn’t mind paying for me—on top of the ridiculously expensive lunch. We watch the balloon slowly descend. The passengers disembark, and then it’s our turn to get in.
“If I get scared, will you look after me?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says.
I’m not going to get scared. I’ve flown before and I fucking love it. But I like how he keeps his arm wrapped protectively around my shoulder as the balloon ascends, slow and majestic. Awelcome coolness creeps into the stifling air as the city spreads out below us, becoming smaller and at the same time easier to see. There’s a clarity from watching your life on the ground appear to you all at once from the air. There’s the casino where I had so many trysts, until they were brought to an abrupt halt when Grimes took control of me. There’s my boarding house several streets away. My landlady is probably inside right now, harrying someone about overdue rent. She wouldn’t be seen dead at something as common as a fair. As we climb ever higher, I spot the lonely little road out to Grimes’ house. Our house. The wooden structure looks rickety and rundown, but not as sad as the first time I saw it. It looks like home now. A tiny spot of welcome in the empty red desert.
“What do you think, Boss?” I say. “Enjoying yourself?”
He gives me a tight smile. I think he’s a little scared, but too proud to show it.
“Yes,” he says. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he says, all gruff and embarrassed.
It looks adorable on him. It spurs me on to ask a question.
