Page 187 of Glutton for Punishment

Time passes in fragments. There are mirrors. Fabric. Hands adjusting things. I don’t resist, even when a small part of me registers discomfort I can’t quite explain. It doesn’t matter. If this is what he wants, then there is nothing to question.

When I finally see myself, rich crimson fabric hugs every curve of my body before ending far high on my thighs.

My reflection looks almost exaggerated. The neckline dips dramatically. The fitted bodice pushes my chest upward in a way that makes me feel exposed despite being covered.

Every time I move, I’m convinced something is about to slip out of place.

I instinctively think to adjust it, to pull it down, to fix the way it sits—

The servant clears her throat, and the thought stops halfway through forming. If this is how he wants me, then this is how I am meant to be. Anything else would be wrong.

I don’t touch it again.

The servant leads me through a maze of elegant hallways until we reach a drawing room. My steps slow at the threshold, excitement and anticipation taking hold of me.

When I step into the lavish drawing room, my eyes immediately seek him out. The rest of the world fades into the background as my attention locks onto him completely.

He rises from behind his desk as his gaze moves over me, inspecting my body. Every inch of me lights up beneath his wondering eyes. Heat rushes into my cheeks, and I become painfully aware of the way the dress clings to my body. His eyes linger on my bare legs.

A pleased smile tugs at his mouth as he comes closer. “You look edible, Angel.”

The words send a strange ripple through me, pleasure and unease tangled together. His hands settle at my waist, and the contact makes my spine shiver.

The grip on my hip tightens as he pulls me closer and leans in until only inches separate us.

“I want to devour you,” he murmurs.

His breath brushes across my face, and the scent hits me instantly.

It smells wrong—something rotten and sour that makes my stomach tighten in a sudden, violent twist.

The revulsion surges through me, and I want to pull away, to turn my head. Step back to create some distance. The reaction is so immediate that it shocks me. Confusion follows right behind it.

No.

That reaction doesn’t belong here. This is my Vex.

The man I adore more than anything. The man I’m lucky enough to be standing in front of right now.

Safe thoughts return like something placed carefully back where it belongs.

I am where I’m meant to be.

A sharp knock interrupts the moment. The sound pulls my attention, even though I don’t want to look away from him. Something in my chest tightens at the interruption, a faint irritation I don’t understand.

He exhales harshly through his nose as his expression darkens with annoyance.

“Soon, Angel,” he whispers, his voice smoothing over whatever tension had been there a second ago.

His thumb brushes my side once before he releases me. “Right now, we have company.”

Losing his touch feels disappointing. I watch him move toward the door, my attention fixed entirely on him, even as something small and restless stirs beneath the surface of my thoughts.

The door opens and a woman strides inside. She has striking red hair pulled back from a severe face. Her black dress is elegant, ending just below her knees.

Everything about her looks controlled. My reaction is instant.

I don’t like this woman.