SIGRID

I lifted my eyes to the reflection and caught him staring at my neck, only for him to completely pretend he wasn’t!

“Bad slave, I could punish you for that! Instead of fingering my pussy, you should’ve applied the balm here!”

“My lady, I can brush your hair,” he said, leaning in and picking up the brush, playing dumb.

No one said anything.

I pulled the fallen sleeve of the nightgown back into place and nodded.

My eyes drifted to the side of his neck, where the deep bite I left glared back at me, red and fierce.

The truth was, he hadn’t sunk his teeth into me the way I had into him.

Well, whatever—we’re a pair of lunatics, no point denying it.

The soft brushing felt amazing.

He patiently ran the brush through every strand, caressing my hair with his hands, my scalp, the nape of my neck, my forehead.

Who taught him to do this so well?

For a second, I imagined him doing this with Lucrecia, and my blood boiled in my veins.

I needed to think of something else, but remembering Lucrec