Day Two
Soft morning light filtered through the windows as Catrine took in the new day. She wasn't sure when Master Ryan had returned to the suite last night, but he had moved her into the bedroom and he now laid soundly asleep beside her.
The enormous bed they shared was ridiculously comfortable. The warm down quilt enveloped her and the soft sheets caressed her skin. It had been a restful night and she lingered a moment enjoying the quiet of the early morning.
She sat up carefully and noted that despite the size of the bed, she had slept pressed tightly against him. Ryan slept on his back with one arm draped across the top of her pillow as if beckoning her to lie back down across his bare, broad chest. She admitted to herself that she was tempted. She had felt safe with him since the moment she found herself in his possession. More than safe, she was comforted by his words and his presence.
These were basic qualities she had taken for granted in her formative years; before the war, before the invasion, before her slavery. It took just one day to be reminded of the extent of her loss. It was so much more than her freedom or even her sexuality; it was the absence of human kindness and generosity that she found most distressing.
She touched her collar tentatively as she dwelled on the thought. In so many ways it defined her now. Not just her treatment, but more comprehensively, how she acted and even most of the time, how she thought. There was no place for naivety in her world and she willed herself to tread carefully. She had to remember that the decency Ryan had shown her was nothing more or less than that. It certainly wasn't anything to confuse with affection or protection.
—-
He watched her thoughtfully as she knelt there on the bed. She was sitting just beside him, so close he could touch her if he chose. But, he didn't want to disturb her. She was fingering the golden collar around her neck and staring out the window. She appeared to be lost in thought and he quickly became lost in her.
Her silk nightgown did nothing to conceal her body. If anything, it further accentuated it. A deliberate choice, he realized. Despite himself, his eyes sought her out, savoring the slight straps that ran over her shoulders. He followed them to the low-cut seam across the top of her breasts, revealing a hint of the soft flesh below. He could make out the slight outline of her nipples straining against the fabric, aroused slightly by the texture of the soft silk. The lacy fabric traveled over the gentle curve of her hip and lead him to the top of her thighs. He remembered the silky, bare, softness he had discovered there yesterday as his fingers had explored her body. He thought of her fevered desire as he touched her most intimate places. He could almost hear her soft cries as he filled her completely. He felt blood rushing to his loins as he hardened at the thought.
Suddenly uncomfortable, he shifted his position in the bed to conceal the manifestation of his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his head vigorously to shake himself back to the present. Then, he reached out to grasp her hand and began in a friendly tone, "Hey beautiful, how did you sleep?"
His movement and words startled her a bit, but she recovered herself quickly.
"Very well. Thank you." she said and she couldn't help a slight smile as her eyes met his. His hair was unruly and his eyes practically sparkled as he looked at her. She had worked to keep her tone formal despite the intimacy of their setting, but her rapid heartbeat threatened to give her away. Surrounded by the sheets and without the formality of his suit, he looked so young and beautiful in the pale light of the room. He had slept only in pajama bottoms and now, sitting in front of her, she could see the outline of the powerful muscles in his torso. She was tempted to reach out and stroke the soft hair across his sternum but quickly recovered herself and dropped her eyes.
He knit his brows as he studied her. She seemed to be holding something back. He sat up fully so that he faced her directly and chased her eyes with his own, hunting for the connection he had felt with her the evening before. There close contact made Catrine increasingly uncomfortable.
"Hey," he said to her quietly, stroking the tops of her hands in his fingers. "Come back to me." He tugged gently on her hands and he leaned into her more closely, willing her eyes to meet his.
She looked at him but didn't say any more. He let the silence stretch between them for a moment as if considering what to say next. Finally, he seemed to settle on the words as he began, "This place is a dangerous place. Especially for you. I didn't really understand that when I brought you here. But, I think I'm beginning to understand it now."
He continued, "I have three days to close this business and three days to keep you safe. And, you have my word that I intend to do both. But, to do that, I'll need your help and I'll need your trust."
She fixed her eyes on his, surprised by the direction of their conversation. Her first reaction was disbelief that he had even uttered those words: Trust? This was not something her masters demanded of her. Unwaivering obedience, yes, but trust was irrelevant. The thought was quickly replaced by skepticism and doubt: Was she being subjected to some kind of sick test?
But as she felt his hands squeeze hers tightly, his genuine eyes watching her intently, she opened her heart a little bit to believe him at his word.
She bit down on her lower lip still considering the weight of his comments. "Master Ryan," she began softly, his watchful stare making her apprehensive. She looked like she was about to continue, but instead he saw her lip quiver before she appeared to redirect her thoughts. Finally, she answered simply, "I will do my best."
He reached up to her face and stroked her hair softly. He knew there was more to her thinking and he wanted to push her to say more, but he stopped short. He couldn't begin to empathize with her reality and he certainly didn't want to make anything harder for her in the process.
Instead, he sought to reassure her. Duplicating his actions from the day before, his fingers moved from her hair to caress her cheek. His thumb made small circular strokes across her lips. He drank in the feel of her under his fingertips, savoring the powerful energy that traveled between them. "God, you are pure beauty and pure innocence." He said aloud, more to himself than to her.
She almost whimpered at his soft words and his soft touch. Despite her apprehension, she hungered for it, craving that fragile feeling of connection blossoming between them. Almost imperceptibly, she tightened her fingers on the hand that held hers, covering it gently with her other hand. It was a small act, but a bold act for a slave; taking something that she wanted without asking permission first. She looked carefully into his blue eyes trying to assess his reaction. They widened slightly with recognition.
