Sweet Persuasion (Sweet #2)(78)

The next hour was a test of her staying power. Her back ached, her legs ached from kneeling. Her spine was stiff from her position, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down and curl into a ball.

Damon had largely ignored her, sparing her only an occasional glance before he returned to his guests. There was laughter and conversation, and for the most part, Serena ceased to exist.

Then the call for dinner was given, and if Serena thought being on display in front of everyone had been difficult, the sudden quiet of the empty living room was worse. The guests filed into the dining room, and she could only hear them in the distance.

She could get up and walk out. Nothing was keeping her here. She could go to the bedroom and crawl into bed or she could simply walk out, get into her car and go home. To her apartment, back to her life. Fulfilling other people’s fantasies. Selling them lies and half-truths. Shades of gray, pocket dreams and a day in the sun.

But still she knelt there, determination driving her relentlessly. It was no longer about her and her fantasy. If she left, if she walked away, her failure became Damon’s. He didn’t deserve it when he’d only given her what she wanted.

Is this what you want?

It came to her as a whisper, a soft ribbon threading its way through her consciousness. It was a question she couldn’t answer. Or maybe she didn’t want to answer it.

She lost track of time and was startled when the guests began to trickle back into the living room. Damon approached, holding a plate. Without saying anything, he settled into the chair beside her. With a gentle hand, he directed her head until she rested on his lap.

A sigh of contentment, of weariness and relief, expelled from the innermost part of her body.

He fed her, small bites, coaxing them past her lips. Occasionally he stopped to offer her a drink from the glass at his side.

There was a calmness and intimacy to his movements. He didn’t just feed her mechanically. He touched her frequently, short little brushes across her cheek, or he’d smooth a strand of hair from her face. When wine gathered at the corner of her mouth, he wiped it away with his thumb and then licked at the pad.

She closed her eyes as her cheek rested against his leg. He didn’t make any further attempt to feed her more. Instead, he simply stroked her cheek. As he spoke to those around him, his fingers slid into her hair and to her nape where he gently massaged.

She was very nearly asleep when she heard Damon say good-bye. Her eyes opened sluggishly, and Damon carefully pushed her head away as he rose. She wobbled and then steadied herself as she watched him see his friends out.

Soon there was only her and Damon. He stood at the doorway of the living room, staring at her. In that moment, she wished she could read his thoughts, wished they were broadcast on his face, but he was expressionless.

Nervous apprehension fluttered deep in her stomach when she remembered that he’d promised her a private punishment after his guests had left.

She swallowed as he finally made his way over to her. He stopped a short distance away and simply held his hand down to her. She reached up and slid her fingers across his warm palm. He pulled her to her feet and then turned her in the direction of the bedroom.

They walked in silence, her dread growing with each step. The bedroom was dark as they entered, but Damon made no move to turn on the light.

“Do you need to use the bathroom before bed?” he asked, startling the silence with his deep voice.

“No,” she said quietly, not sure he’d see her head if she shook it.

He left her a few feet from the bed and went to pull back the covers. When he was finished, he turned and took her hand. Unsure of what he wanted or what he would do, she let him guide her to the mattress. But then he merely eased her into bed and pulled the covers up over her as her head settled onto the pillow.

Without a word or gesture, he simply turned around and walked out, leaving her there in the dark.

For a long time, she lay there, waiting, expecting. Fatigue settled into her limbs, but she fought the veil of sleep, waiting for Damon to return.

Loneliness ate at her. She wanted him there, even if it meant her punishment. She wanted him to return and settle it so they could go back to the easy companionship they’d enjoyed during the week she’d devoted solely to him. She wanted to tell him she was sorry.

She watched the clock, flinching as each minute passed. After an hour, desolation covered her like a fog. Where was he?

She curled into a ball, gathering the sheets around her in an attempt to comfort the coldness that invaded her. As tired as she was, as much as she fought the urge to sleep, it wasn’t right. He hadn’t bound her. He hadn’t come to bed.

As she huddled there in the dark, alone with longing that nagged insidiously at her, bleak realization came. This was her punishment, and it was worse than the lash of his belt.

CHAPTER 31

Damon sat in the armchair that faced his bed, watching Serena sleep as dawn seeped through the window over his shoulder. He’d slept little, opting to work late into the night. He’d caught a few hours on the couch in his office before coming here so he could be with Serena when she woke.

Her face was turned to him, and he could see the evidence of old tears on her cheeks. The idea that he’d hurt her with his desertion didn’t make him feel better. The punishment was necessary. She was teetering between the two worlds, one of her making and one of her choosing. But it didn’t soothe him to know he’d caused her pain. Her pain was his pain. Her joy was his joy.