The King's Pleasure Page 7

  “Well, Abby, are you ready to admit it now?”

  She wanted to tell him anything he wanted to hear, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the lie that would free her. Her honor was all she had left. “I have nothing to admit, Master.”

  He sighed. “This is your final chance. You can go quietly now to live with your family, or you can stay in the dungeon for the rest of your life. I won’t offer you any more opportunities. Surely you’ve had time to think this through.”

  “My answer is still the same.” She wouldn’t admit defeat now. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of pretending she’d ever been anything but his loyal slave. If she was to die down here, then she would. If he was too stubborn to admit he was wrong, then her death would be on his hands.

  “Very well, if that’s your answer.”

  “It is.”

  She expected him to turn and leave her there to rot, but he scooped her up and carried her, wrapped in the dirty blankets, back upstairs. He deposited her gently on the tile of his bathroom and turned on the water for the bath. He was silent as he began to drop the rose petals and pour in the fragrant oils.

  “Go. Shower the dirt off,” he said, pointing as if time had rewound itself and it was their first night together. Only this time, bizarrely, she didn’t fear him or what he might do to her, even though he’d given her plenty of valid reasons to.

  She went to the shower. The wounds on her back were still tender, though they’d closed now and were healing. She’d been healthy enough at the time of the whipping that her body had mended itself even on the lower quality food in her cell.

  She breathed in the scent of the delicate lavender and oat soap as she scrubbed off the grime from the dungeon, hardly believing this could be real. She took the towel from the peg and dried off, then moved tentatively toward the tub.

  “Abigail…” The king’s voice was threaded with more emotion than she’d ever heard from him.

  “Yes, Master?”

  He seemed as if he were preparing to say something important, but instead he said, “Get in the tub.”

  She got in and leaned back, closing her eyes. A little moan left her as she sank into the water, letting the soothing warmth take the remaining pain from the whip marks.

  “How can you relax like that?” he asked after a minute. “How can you be anything but terrified of me after what I did?”

  She opened her eyes, shocked to find tears rolling down his cheeks. “Am I going back to the dungeon?”

  “No. Never,” he said fiercely.

  “So you believe me? You know I didn’t set this up?”

  He nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. “It was a test. I had myself half convinced you’d scammed me, that you were making a mockery of me, maybe getting some strange revenge for my father’s behavior. But I let it get out of control. I’d expected you’d beg for mercy—even if you were innocent—and that I’d give you a slap on the wrist and take you back after a time. But when you didn’t break, with all those witnesses...”

  “Did you kill them?” Abigail asked, her voice oddly light.

  “God, no! What kind of monster…”

  “I was kidding.” It was the first time they’d spoken like this. Real. Honest. A slight edge of disrespect. She didn’t know where it came from, but she wanted to lighten things, let him know she was really okay.

  “How can you be so casual about this? How can you even want to belong to me after this? I shamed you and violated your trust.” His features were open. He was finally letting her in. Being let into his confidence was worth all that had transpired, but she knew he’d never see it that way.

  “I was here at your pleasure. I was in the dungeon at your pleasure. You’re the king, and you can do what you want with me. I’m completely at your command. If you didn’t know it before, I hope you do now.”

  His hand was on the edge of the tub, and Abigail threaded her fingers through his and squeezed. She felt odd being the one offering comfort, but knew how tentative his sanity was at the moment. His guilt oozed out of him, so heavy it almost crushed her with its weight.

  There was a long pause, and then he said, “It won’t happen again. I realize you have no reason to trust me, but in time, I hope you’ll be able to.”

  Niall helped her out of the tub and to their bed. She didn’t tell him she already trusted him and that she’d already forgiven him.

  Two years later, Abigail gave birth to the future king. He had a dark complexion, raven hair, and brilliant green eyes. Just like his mother.

  If you enjoyed The King’s Pleasure, please consider the other two novellas in this collection: Awakening, and The Aucion.

  About the Author

  Kitty Thomas writes dark literary erotica. Her stories explore the psychology of ownership. This work is fiction and meant for an adult audience. The author does not endorse or condone any of the behavior carried out by characters in her stories.

  Inspiration for Kitty’s work comes from many sources including Story of O, Nine and a Half Weeks, and the work of Claudia D. Christian.

  For updates on new releases, please subscribe to Kitty's newsletter via the contact form at her site: www.kittythomas.com