My eyes harden at his words, but before I can spit back that I don’t even know him, let alone trust him, he takes his hand away and says, “You’ll learn to trust me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and wait for his next move. My eyes are drawn to his fingers as he reaches for a chunk of what I think is tuna. My mouth waters as he dips it into some sort of sauce and brushes it along the side of the cup until none of the sauce is dripping from the chunk of fish. He brings it to my lips and I instinctively lean back and move my hands up in front of my face.
The man’s deep voice rings out. “No.” My body jumps at his disapproval, and my heart races as I look into his eyes. Half of me still expects him to be violent toward me, even though he hasn’t yet. “You know what I want.”
He seems to relax some as he registers my fear. “Hands on your knees like they were, and mouth open. You were seated perfectly.”
I obey him even though my fear seems to paralyze my body. I’m simply moving to his commands in order to survive. I have to admit him saying I was “seated perfectly” gives me a small thrill. And I fucking hate that. I wish he didn’t have this affect on me.
“Open,” he commands, and I do as he says. He gently places the chunk of tuna in my mouth and as he does, my stomach grumbles from hunger.
He smiles down at me and dips another piece in the sauce. “I knew you were hungry, kitten.” He looks at me again with curiosity, holding the piece over the plate. “Do you like it?”
My heart beats slowly as I search his face. I wonder if he’s toying with me. If I admit that I like it, he might take it away and make me starve.
“I’d like you to answer me quickly and honestly, Catherine.” His voice holds a note of admonishment, and I feel compelled to apologize.
“I’m sorry, s--” Sir is on the tip of my tongue, but I pause as I realize I don’t know what to call him.
“Anthony,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “No need to be sorry.” His other hand grips my chin to get my attention. “You’re learning. I can be reasonable so long as you’re making an effort to obey. Is that understood?” he asks.
“Yes, Anthony.”
“Good.” His fingers stroke my jaw briefly. “Did you like that?” he asks.
“Yes...Anthony.” It feels odd saying his name again so soon. But I imagine it’s what he wants.
He smirks at me, the fucking bastard. “You don’t have to say it every time.” He holds the fish out and I open my mouth obediently.
It’s so fucking good. It’s not fair that I am fucking loving this fish. It’s sweet, with a hint of spice. I’d eat this every day if I could. My eyes widen. He knew I’d like it. He smirks at me again as if reading my mind.
“Open,” he says, holding out another piece.
I do as he says. And again and again. His fingers brush against my lips more and more. He puts a piece up to my mouth, and I take it and swallow before I realize his finger is still in front of my face.
“A bit of sauce, suck.” My core heats and stirs as I maintain eye contact and open my mouth. His lips part as he slips his finger slowly into my mouth. I gently suck and massage him with my tongue. His eyes go half-lidded, and his breath comes in pants. And that’s when I push my teeth down. Not hard, but enough that they scrape against him as he slowly pulls his finger free from my mouth. I know it didn’t hurt him, but he got the message.
Once his finger is finally released, he grabs my jaw forcefully. He shoves his thumb into my mouth, tilting my head slightly. I'm forced to remain still, with my neck bent at an awkward angle. “Be a good girl, kitten. I know you could hurt me if you wanted to.” He leans in closer and whispers in my ear. His hot breath sends shivers down my back. “Just remember, I could hurt you too, if I wanted.”
The threat makes me regret my action. My eyes fall, and tears prick the back of them as he releases me. My heart hurts, and anxiety races through me.
“Open.” I hear him give his command, but I can’t. I feel sick to my stomach. I fall back onto my heels and turn away from him. I can’t. I can’t do this. I back away slightly as he moves to the floor, setting the plate on the metal chair with a clink. Tears leak from my eyes.
“Hush, kitten,” he says as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. “I understand, I do.” He rubs my back gently and it calms me. I lean into his touch, loving the warmth. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve been held. Once I went into hiding, I was always alone in that house. It’s made me weak.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to enjoy this, and I don’t want you to be sad. But I don’t want you to push me either. Not unless you want to be punished.” I bury my head deeper into his chest, trying to resist how everything he’s saying is making me want to play. This isn’t pretend though. There'll be no stopping this once it’s started, and that terrifies me. But as much as I’d like to tell myself it hasn’t started, I know it already has. And I’m playing into his hands.
The realization sobers me. I slowly back away and get back into a submissive position, although my eyes aren’t on him at all. I stare at the floor and try to gather some kind of composure. I quickly wipe the tears away and chance a look at him as he sits back on the chair. He looks uncertain. It’s an expression I haven’t seen on him before. It makes me fucking terrified. He’s quick to adjust the look on his face.
“Come,” he says with a firm resolve. He pats his left leg. “Let’s try this again.” He waits patiently as I stand and sit awkwardly on his lap. His left arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me closer to him. Even though he’s so tall compared to me, his head is nearly level with mine with us seated like this. He rests his left hand in my lap, dangerously close to my pussy. My nightgown has ridden up some and I feel exceptionally vulnerable. I’m stiff on his lap, and I can’t relax with his hand where it is.
He waits a moment before saying or doing anything. It’s awkward as fuck.
“You need to relax.” He dips his finger into the sauce and brings it to my lips. He stares into my eyes rather than giving me the command. I do as he wants and open my mouth. He slips his finger past my lips. His eyes are drawn to my mouth as I gently suck his finger clean. When he pulls his finger away, he gives me a satisfied look.
“Good kitten.” He puts another piece of the tuna tartare to my lips and I accept it. Seeing his approval eases something in me. I know so long as he’s pleased, I’m safe with him. And so far, pleasing him is simple, but I don’t know what other terms he has.
On the next bite, I find myself leaning into his fingers. He tsks and pulls the piece away from me. My heart rate speeds up until I realize what I’ve done to upset him. I swallow and sit back on my heels, exactly the way I was positioned before. His left hand runs along the thin fabric of my nightgown, just above my clit. “Good job, kitten.” My pussy spasms around nothing. I close my eyes, hating how my body is betraying me. My nipples are hard, and the light brush of the fabric against them only turns me on even more. Other than his hand edging closer and closer to my pussy, he shows no signs of his own arousal.
“Eat until you’re full.” He grabs another piece, and we continue like this. Each time he feeds me his fingers brush a little closer to my throbbing clit, until finally his deft fingers are massaging small circles over my clit. I’m soaked for him, and primed for him to fuck me. And I fucking hate it. He’s playing me and using my body against me.