Page 19 of The Vixen

“Is this my punishment, Your Grace? Because—full transparency—I’ve had a finger up my ass before.”

No surprise there.

I hum. “I suppose you aren’t quite as shy as I am.”

“Not quite.”

My chin moves with a nod he doesn’t see, my finger gently massaging deeper until there’s nowhere left to go. Each of my movements is a gentle stroke from an inexperienced hand. Not mine but a crude imitation of his. His movements, his strokes, his gentleness.

Throughout it all, he remains relaxed, his muscles loose for my touch out of spite. It should annoy me, but instead I feel a tingle in my chest, the tops of my ears warming with a blush. I try to think of the last time someone beneath my authority truly challenged me… But my mind blanks.

Of course, Sawyer doesn’t know me. He’s only ever seen me vulnerable; not once have I shown him strength.

If he was smart, he’d do the same.

Caressing the sculpted curve of his bottom, I gradually work a second finger inside of him while finally, he tenses. A grunt pulls from his lungs, and his breathing picks up through his mouth, slow and long like working through labor pains.

“Have you ever been fisted?”

When he clenches around my fingers, I force myself in deeper—my intrusion turning rough. My caress on his buttocks morphs to a brutal grasp when he tries to sway his hips away from my touch.

“You said I have until morning to give you the names… It doesn’t matter if the fucking paper is crumpled. I had a private moment of anger. I shouldn’t be punished for?—”

A loud groan followed by a string of curses rushes from his mouth when I work a third finger into his puckered hole, straining violently. I bite my lip while my brow furrows with concentration as I lean forward and force the tips of my fingers past the sphincter.

“Stop! Stop! Holy shit, Luna, fucking stop!” He bucks his hips free from my grasp, but he can’t get away from my intrusion. The panic that thins the air is so familiar, it almost feels like my own. He jerks hard at his restraints while I let myself slip into the memory—Sawyer’s cold voice, his fingers stretching me wide while he forced me to beg for his cock. “You crazy goddamn bitch, I will fucking kill you! Do you understand that?! I will fucking—Ah shit! Luna, please!”

His body stills and shakes as I get all fingers snugly inside. Surprising how difficult it is, how much power it takes to break past muscle without shredding it.

“Sawyer, baby,relax. I hear it can feel quite good.”

“Please. Please stop. Please, God, just fucking stop.Please.” His voice cracks with his last word and draws my eyes to his tortured face. His eyes are clenched shut which only makes the sharp, shaky breath he takes in through an open mouth more recognizable.

Humiliating, isn’t it?

I relax my grip on his ass and rub soothing circles over his lower back. All three of my fingers reach to my knuckles inside of him, but I don’t move. I just let them be, let Sawyer feel the sheer terror of the threat they pose.

“What is it you told me the first time I was on this bench and you had three fingers inside of me just like this? Do you even remember?”

“My fingers were in yourpussy. It stretches. It’s meant for this shit. It’s not the same thing.”

I lean into Sawyer and lift my hand to deliver a heavy dose of pressure that has him yelling out. A round of groans fill the cold, sterile space once his body adjusts to the new normal. “I’m sorry, all right? Fuck, I’m sorry. Whatever I said, it was shitty, and I shouldn’t have said it. You… I never wanted to hurt you. I was just giving Aurelius what he wanted the only way I knew how. I’m sorry. I’msorry. I’m so sorry.Please.”

The blush spreads from my ears down my neck. Across the tips of my nipples, sinking low into my belly button until I’m warmed from the inside out. Shameful, to feel so light while loading the back of the pathetic.

Wait.

Sawyer’s words.

‘I was just givingAureliuswhat he wanted.’

Laughable. Wrong.

My skin cools, the single statement chasing away the vibrant blush as it occurs to me that Sawyer might still believe I’m somehow a victim. As if I’m not the one who ordered him to train a woman. As if I’m not the one who brought him here.

What right do I have to hold grudges or ill will for the things he did to me in this room?

None.