“Good?” He brushed his thumb across my lower lip, catching a drop of sauce.
I nodded, surprised by how intimate this felt—more intimate than some of the sexual things we’d done. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“My grandmother taught me,” he said, preparing another bite. “In a little village outside Athens. She believed food was another form of caring for people.” His eyes held a faraway look.
The rope shifted against my wrists as I adjusted my position. The combination of good food and Kronos’s undivided attention was doing something to my head—making me relaxed and reckless at the same time. It reminded me of being drunk but clearer, like my usual filters were dissolving. His silver eyes caught mine, and something about the way he looked at me—like I was something precious—made my chest tight.
The question that had been nagging at me for weeks suddenly felt urgent. Maybe it was the rope making me feel secure, or maybe it was hearing him talk about his past for once. Whatever it was, I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Why do you keep calling me bunny?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Kronos paused with the fork halfway to my mouth, that familiar amused expression spreading across his face.
“Does it bother you?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice, despite the smirk playing on his lips.
“No, I’m just curious,” I said, feeling heat creep up my neck.God, what a stupid time to ask this question, while literally tied up at his dining table.“Just wondering why a bunny, of all things?”
He set down the fork and slid a finger under the rope at my wrist, tugging slightly. The casual way he handled the bindings made my stomach flip. He was so confident, like he’d done this a thousand times before. Maybe he had.
“Do you know what someone who enjoys being tied up is called in certain circles?” His eyes locked with mine, watching for my reaction.
I shook my head, feeling even more out of my depth than usual.
His smile widened, revealing those sharp teeth. “A rope bunny,” he said, picking up the fork again and offering me another bite.
Before I could process his answer, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to that register that made my insides turn to liquid. “Seeing you trussed up like this, unable to run away, waiting for me to devour you however I please…” His eyes darkened as they traveled over the ropes binding my wrists. “Nothing makes my mouth water more.”
The food went down the wrong way as his words registered. I choked, coughing and sputtering while he chuckled and patted my back, his expression one of pure self-satisfaction.
“Didn’t realize it would be such a shock,” he said, though the gleam in his eyes made it clear he was enjoying my reaction. “Water?”
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath, my face burning. The ropes felt different against my skin, the nickname taking on meanings I hadn’t considered. Rope bunny. And the way he’d said ‘devour’ had sent a jolt of heat straight to my groin.
The familiar weight of shame tried to creep in—I shouldn’t need this, shouldn’t want to be taken care of like this—but his next words scattered those thoughts.
“You’ve spent solong trying to take care of yourself,” he murmured, fingers tracing the rope’s pattern. “Let someone take care of you for once.”
“I’m not very good at that,” I admitted, accepting another bite of food.
“I’ve noticed.” His smile held no judgment. “That’s why we practice. Like with the cooking—small steps, building trust.” He checked the circulation in my fingers again. “How are you feeling?”
“Safe,” I whispered, surprising myself with the truth of it.
His thumb brushed across my lower lip again, lingering this time. “Good boy.” The praise made heat pool in my stomach. “Though I must say, watching you all tied up and pliant is testing my resolve about not touching you tonight.”
I shifted in my seat, very aware of how his eyes darkened at the movement. “Maybe that was my plan all along.”
“Tease,” he purred softly, fingers trailing down my neck. “Here you are, all wrapped up like a present.” His other hand checked the ropes again, professional even as his touch made me shiver. “We’re building something here, darling. Something that requires patience.”
“Says the man who’s been sending me detailed descriptions of how he plans to tie me up.”
“Consider those previews of coming attractions.” He offered another bite of food, but pulled back just as I leaned forward. “If you’re good.” His hand slid to the back of my neck, thumb tracing circles just under my hairline. “And you can be very good, can’t you?” His voice had dropped lower, making my breath catch. “When you want to be.”
“Sometimes.” I tested the ropes, not trying to escape, just feeling how they moved. The end was still in my hand, but I had no desire to pull it. “Though you seem to like it when I’m not.”
“Mmhmm.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “I like the chase.” His free hand traced the rope pattern around my wrists. “But seeing you give in willingly? That’s something else entirely.”
The next bite he offered was from the stuffed grape leaves. His fingers lingered against my lips longer than necessary, and I couldn’t resist catching one with my teeth. The sound he made was almost a growl.
