Page 40 of Under His Control

Her naked body fills my mind again. I look away from her and focus on taking off my jacket and shoes.

“Welcome home, dear. You came just in time for supper. How was your day?”

Sarcasm soaks Penelope’s voice and I chuckle as I hang up my jacket. I hate to admit it but this girl is funny. Time changed the reserved girl I remember into a woman armed with a quick wit.

I don’t know how I feel about this. Enjoying her sense of humour seems a lot more dangerous than my attraction to her.

I turn and hold up the package. “If I’m supposed to be your husband in your scenario, then I bought the perfect gift for you, darling.”

Her brow tightens. “What is it?”

Oh, she’s right to be suspicious.

“You’ll find out soon. I think you’ll love it.”

I set the package down on the kitchen counter then go and grab a quick shower. When I return, Penelope follows me with her gaze as I go to the kitchen drawer where I keep a box knife.

I slice open the package and take out the sealed plastic baggie, cutting that open too.

Perfect.

It looks exactly like what I ordered just before I fell asleep last night.

I wipe it off with a slightly damp paper towel and hold it folded in my fist as I turn around. Penelope watches me, her gaze sharp with alertness, her body rigid.

“Come here.”

With obvious reluctance, she stands and ventures closer, eyeing my closed hand with suspicion.

“Did the delivery person knock on the door?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Did you answer it?”

She folds her arms, her lips pursed.

“What did you see on your camera?”

I got the movement notification when the delivery showed up. I didn’t get anymore.

“Turn around and lift your hair.”

A beat passes before she obeys, slowly turning her back to me and gathering her hair in one hand. She pulls it up into a loose ponytail, exposing her neck. An urge to brush my lips against her skin comes over me.

I focus on the task at hand. In my hand. I unfurl my fist and wrap the black leather collar around Penelope’s neck. She startles and attempts to pull away.

“Stay where you are.”

Penelope stiffens. The collar’s clips make a gentle snap in the tense silence.

An innocent sound with an ominous message.

She releases her hair, the dark, wavy strands shielding her neck as it falls down her back and around her shoulders. She remains perfectly still but her hands are clenched at her sides.

“You’ll wear the collar at all times. You’re only allowed to take it off temporarily for showers.”

Penelope faces me, indignant fire in her eyes. I’m surprised I’m not a permanent scorch mark on the wooden floor. Whenever she looks at me like she wants to hit me, an urge to kiss her overcomes me.