HAZEL

Movement on the bed wakes me up. I rise and click on the lamp, turning aside to look around. The soft glow of the light illuminates the grey sheets and the large, nude body that indents them.

Ronan lies beside me, nude. His arm covers his face, bent at the elbow and flexing his bicep. I can't see his face, but I wouldn't be able to study it even if he revealed it–not with the six feet of bare, chiseled muscles displayed before me. I stare at his black tattoos and scars on his torso that beckon me to trace them. His erect cock is in his fist, surrounded by a pool of semen on his thighs and abs.

My heart races in my chest. His cock twitches in a gentle rhythm, in beat with my heartbeat.

I don't blink, don't breathe. Mesmerized and terrified by the thick, long cock presented to me. It's a perfect representation of the estate. Tall like the estate's towers and veiny like the estate's endless halls.

It's obvious that he had been beating his cock as I ignorantly slept beside him. He doesn't hurry to hide it—typical of him. Ronan is a proud man. But it's his arrogance, his shamelessness, that makes me rub my thighs together and blush.

Ronan loosens his fist on his cock. But even as he releases it, it remains where it is. Erect, throbbing, beading at the tip with semen.

Ronan sits up and turns his head. He rises from the bed, a streak of semen running down his thigh. Making me swallow and realize how thirsty I am.

He walks to a dark corner of the bedroom and closes a door. When I hear water running, I realize he's in the bathroom. Cleaning himself from the mess he made. As his cock gets cleaner, my pussy gets dirtier as I think about him masturbating as I slept. My skin gets hotter, and my throat drier. I look around the room frantically, aware of the danger I'm in. But no one will come and save me from the lord. No one will come and save me from myself. From the infernal heat between my legs that makes my pussy melt, my hands sweat, and hairs at the nape of my neck curl.

I turn on my side, facing away from Ronan's edge of the bed. My only option is to hide and act like nothing happened. As tempted as I am to reach out and explore that cock, I'm sure I wouldn't survive it. I'm not ready to take him inside. He would destroy me.

The doot creaks open, and Ronan returns to his side of the bed, sinking into the mattress. I remain stiff. Stiff like the cock I had awakened to.

There's a long stretch of silence before Ronan speaks. His deep, rumbling voice fills the dark room and washes over my skin like a stroke of his hand.

"You don't need to fear me. I wouldn't force myself on you."

I lick my lips, praying my voice doesn't crack as I reply, "I know."

"Good." He replies. And that seems to be the end of the conversation because he shifts on the bed and stills, taking his final position for sleep. I don't want the conversation to end here, though. My body is still rippling with disorienting lust. There's a flame between us burning hotter than ever, and I don't want to exhaust it. I've always been too curious for my own good, attracted to danger.

"Ronan," I whisper. "What were you thinking of as you..." I can't finish the sentence.

He grunts. The sound is quick and harsh. "I was thinking of you as I beat my cock, Hazel. Is that what you want to hear?"

My sex clenches. A gentle throb awakening, calling out for a release that I can't offer. I doubt masturbation will satisfy this deep, aching desire for this man. Only those calloused hands, thick cock, powerful thighs, and wicked tongue could sate me.

I sigh shakily at the thought of his tongue. He says such sinful things with it. I'm sure it would wrap and contort inside my pussy just as sinfully.

"I want to fuck you," he says, voice steady and calm as if he's merely ordering me to dust a shelf. "But I won't pressure you."

"I...I don't know anything about..."

"Yes," he interjects. "I knew that the first day I ran into you. I'm only telling you this to warn you that I have urges. I need to beat the fucking frustration out of my cock. I will try to do this in private–"

"Don't," I interject. "Do it while I'm in bed. Asleep or awake. I... I like it."

I loved waking to the sounds of his groans, the vibration of the bed beneath me. It gave me a thrill I've never experienced before.

He growls, rising from the bed and stomping away.

"Ronan?" I call for him, humiliated that I shared a shameful desire, and he's walking away.

"I'll be back," he says, gripping the doorknob.

"Where are you going?"

"To exercise before I lose control and break my promise of keeping my hands to myself. You need to watch your words, Hazel. You have no fucking idea the power they have."

He slams the door shut, and the sound echoes throughout the estate. It probably awakened a servant or two–a punishable offense, but of course, Ronan can do whatever the hell he wants. This is his home. His land. His dominion.

I think of his words long after his footsteps fade away. The power in my words. Is it possible that my request for him to masturbate beside me re-ignited his lust? Made him hard again, although he spilled his seed minutes ago?

Why does this possibility worsen the throbbing at my core?

With a shaky exhale, I face Ronan's side of the bed and run a hand across the sheets. Still warm. Still wrinkled.

I close my eyes and fall asleep with my hand on his side of the bed.

– • –

My body jerks awake at six in the morning after only a few hours of rest. There's no clock in the room, but I know what time it is because my body is wired to rise and prepare to work at this time when the sun is streaking through the curtains. Warm and glowing. Lighting the estate halls but not its secrets. Those secrets I've begun to unravel in the darkness as I walked the halls, skipped the wall, and laid beside Ronan.

He's not in bed. I'm not sure if he even returned to sleep here last night.

I feel lost. My eyes scan the room for my uniform, and my fingers fidget as I feel the minutes ticking by. I feel like I will be late for work, although Ronan told me that my life as a servant is behind me.

I wish I knew what my mom thought about this situation, but she won't see me. She refused to speak to me yesterday, infuriated by all the secrets I've kept from her. She has banished me from her arms, and my heart aches like never before.

I tip-toe into the bathroom. A Victorian tub oversees a window that's covered by crimson curtains. There is no mirror in here. Only two toothbrushes and toothpaste sit by the golden sink. The tiles are cold and grey. Minimal but luxurious. The walls are bare, and I see no other cosmetic products. Ronan must not care about styling his hair or creaming his skin. Not when he hides his face under a hood. I don't think he needs it. I could be a blind woman and still be pulled by his alluring presence.

I brush my teeth, careful not to spill a single water bead on the tiles. I feel out of place, like an invader. This bathroom is four times the size of the bathroom I shared with Gwen. It's large and lonely, just like the bedroom.

There's a knock on the bedroom door. I finish brushing my teeth, rinse my hands, and open the door. Gwen stands there, holding a plate and three books.

"Gwen," I smile, relieved to see her safe and sound.

"Hey," she replies, looking nervous. "I was told to bring you breakfast and some books for entertainment... uh, Miss Hazel."

I frown. "I'm still just Hazel."

She shakes her head. "Right. I'm sorry, but there are so many rumors going around the estate. I didn't know you had a romance with the lord. I'm sorry for–"

"Gwen," I interject. "You're still my friend. I'm sorry for all the drama I dragged you through and for nearly getting you in trouble."

She nods. "It's fine. I suspected that you'd eventually try something like this. You were always glancing out the windows."

I chuckle softly and glance at the spines of the books. They're all about Nordic tales. I've read them, along with all the books in the library.

"I know you've read these already," she says and hands them to me. "But there's not much you haven't read."

My mind runs a mile a minute, my fingernails digging into the book covers as I think about last night and the dangerous attraction between Ronan and me. I think about my trepidation of his immense, powerful body. It would take skill to accommodate him. To keep up with his stamina and thundering thrusts.

"Are there any new novels circulating among the girls?" I whisper, my face reddening.

Gwen's eyes widen as she realizes what I'm asking. Although I've read erotic material before out of curiosity, I couldn't fully connect to the ideas because I couldn't picture myself doing any of it. But now that I've met Ronan, I've taken a new interest in sex. Maybe a novel would help me overcome my fears of touching him.

Studying this topic will keep me busy over the next few weeks. Keep me distracted from my mother's distance and the rumors circulating throughout the estate. I don't plan on touching Ronan overnight, but I don't want to fear him. He gets enough fear from the people who see his tall, broad, hooded figure and think he's a monster. He's an attractive man. Maybe someday, after I've forgiven him for his deception, I'll get closer and finally touch his scarred, tattoed, but delectable skin.

"Uh...I'll grab you a few novels. Is that all you need?" Gwen asks.

"Can you...can you ensure no one finds out the novels are for me?"

She nods. "Sure."

"Thanks, Gwen. I'll repay you."

She grins. "Well, now that you're leaving our room, I want to claim your bed as mine. It's not like you'll miss it. I'm sure you're sleeping like a queen beside the lord."

Actually, there's not much sleep while lying beside Ronan because my mind, heart, and sex are too focused on him.

"Take it. Did you hear anything from my mom?"

She shakes her head, and my gut tightens. "No, she didn't send any messages."

"I see," I sigh. "Thanks anyway."

"You're welcome. I'll be back later with your...novels."

I drop my gaze, too embarrassed to look at her. "See you soon."