“It’s a pity to cover those burning eyes of yours, but there’s a bit of fun to be had in blocking out certain senses, don’t you agree?” A thumb brushed teasingly across Fen’s bottom lip, pressing just enough to have him opening so that digit could momentarily ghost over his tongue. “I liked the way you glared at me though, so defiantly. Unrestricted. Tell me, are you glaring now behind that strip of cloth?”
Shit. Fenrir had a hunch the speaker was the alpha from the balcony. It’d seemed that way when the man had risen afterFen’s bidding had ended and winked at him suggestively, but he’d hoped he’d been wrong.
Despite his eloquent clothing, there’d been nothing kind or soft about that alpha. Even if Fenrir hadn’t been aware of Oberon’s ties to the mafia, instincts would have warned him from crossing the guy. Would knowing he was a virgin make a difference? And if it did, would that be in a good way or a bad one?
Was he sadistic like Michelle?
Fenrir might not be able to put off the inevitable, but if he’d been allowed a bit more time to prepare himself…
No, that wouldn’t have made a difference either.
He needed to compose himself now, be on his best behavior, and figure out what it was the alpha who’d won him wanted. So long as he could become whatever that was, he’d be able to complete his mission and survive this night.
Even if the opponent he’d been pitted against was several times more dangerous than Fenrir had initially been promised.
If he lost his cool, he could suffer from influx, and there was little chance of Michelle coming to his rescue if that happened. He’d enter a frenzy and either accidentally kill Oberon, or get killed himself.
Neither of those outcomes were very appealing.
“When is your next heat?”
The question wasn’t unexpected, so Fenrir didn’t know why his stomach flipped uncomfortably at it. “Eight days from now.”
The alpha hummed.
“You should have been given a pill to induce—” The hand let him go, abruptly bringing him to a stop.
“The bed is two paces to your left. Get on it.”
Fenrir pursed his lips but didn’t hesitate, turning to follow the command. These rooms were here for this purpose,but he’d sort of figured a man with the kind of coin to toss around like this alpha would want something more…private? Grandiose?
If the guy had wanted a quick lay, he could have gone to one of several brothels in the area.
“Is there anything beneath the silks?” the alpha questioned. “I should have asked before I told you to move.”
Fenrir settled onto the edge and then scooted until he felt his back meet the headboard. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his bound wrists going to the tie holding the silk robe closed. Instead of giving a verbal reply, he worked the knot free and then swept the material to the sides, exposing himself to the alpha's view.
Of course there was nothing beneath the silks.
“You don’t even know if there’s an audience,” the alpha stated.
“Is there?”
“You don’t sound concerned.”
Fenrir shrugged a single shoulder. “The contract makes it clear you’re the only one allowed to partake in my heat. Whether or not you want us to be watched by others, that’s up to you. It doesn’t break any of the clauses put in place by the Wardrobe.”
There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of chair legs scraping across the wooden floor. “You’re very familiar with the contract. Are all of the Wardrobe’s products as well informed as you are?”
He couldn’t exactly say he’d helped structure the new documentation when Michelle had decided to open an auction house. Or that it’d been a reward for helping her take care of a few pesky patrons who’d used product then been unwilling to pay. “We’re given the choice. Some of us want to review it, others don’t.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Why don’t they want to read it?” Fenrir wasn’t following.
“There’s something to fear about the unknown.”
Fen chuckled.