“Not at all,” I said with a sigh. “I hate that there’s no rhyme or reason to where anything is.”
I hated more that any attempts to organize always reset before I got through more than a few shelves. My eye twitched every time I saw the book of childhood nursery rhymes stuffed between an anthology of vampire erotica and a scientific study of botanical blossoms. “The library likes to test you,” Kirin said. “My shelves are more organized, so maybe it’ll give your brain a break to check them out instead.”
My feet stalled, and I pulled to a stop. “You have shelves?”
Realizing I’d stopped, he turned around to look at me. “Uh, yeah. About one or two hundred books in my room.”
“But I’ve been in your room. They weren’t there.”
If I’d seen them, I would have checked by now. From the beginning, I’d assumed Uncle Felix wouldn’t want me invading the resident’s space with his little games. Why had I assumed that? Why was I still assuming it? I’d recognized a long time ago that my late uncle was far from a good person.
“When were you in my room?” Kirin asked. “I keep them in the walk-in closet. It’s a mini library.”
I wasn’t in the mood to explain or come up with a lie about why I’d been in his room. Cursing, I pushed past him and down the stairs, not waiting for him to catch up before invading his space. My date with oatmeal could wait. This might be the breakthrough I’d been waiting for. Had the book of spells been under my nose this whole time, hiding in a very manageable mini library of under two hundred books?
The walk-in closet wasn’t hard to find, blocked off by a single door opposite the bed. I’d never taken a peek inside before because I’d assumed it held what closets typically held. Clothes. Tearing open the door, I couldn’t hold back my gasp.
There were definitely two hundred books here, and they were all immaculately organized. The black shelving was floor to low ceiling and decorated with strings of fairy lights which were flicked off. A small chair sat in the far corner with a fluffy pillow on it. No way Kirin had ever sat in it. His hips wouldn’t fit between the arms. The chair was present purely for decorative purposes.
Fairy lights flicking on, Kirin’s presence imposed directly behind me. “You seemed mad,” he said, sounding curious. “I’m not sure what I did, but you have my sincerest apologies that I didn’t think to mention my book stash within the last five hours of knowing you, princess.”
“Apology accepted.”
He chuckled as I ignored the question hiding behind his words. He didn’t need to know why I’d been upset. Who knew, maybe there was no reason to be? This could be yet another red herring. I’d never be eating that fish again if I got out of here. The mere name made me annoyed now.
I didn’t wait for him to give me permission to snoop around, and he didn’t seem to mind. The big orc hung out in the doorway, blocking it. In the past, I would have panicked at being stuck in a space with no exits. As it was, I barely spared him a second thought. Oh, how far I’d come.
Getting through the books in here was faster than in the main library. There was no ladder, and I could reach all but the top two shelves. I started at the bottom, hoping I’d find something valuable before I needed to ask for Kirin’s help. Or I could stand on the decorative chair, but I doubted he would go for that idea and he seemed intent to watch me.
Most of the books he had in here were fiction. Lots of romance, plenty with erotic covers and plenty more with plain black leather concealing the adult content. Some mysteries, too. A few non-fiction titles were thrown in the mix on plants and animals.
When I came across something that made me pause, it wasn’t because the book was relevant to my search.
Cheeks flaming, I turned the book in Kirin’s direction and raised an eyebrow. The way his eyes widened was comical, and he lunged into the closet to grab the book out of my hands as if I hadn’t already read the title. Dark colour rose in his cheeks as he clutched it to his chest. “This is research,” he said defensively.
Oh, it certainly was. Research we’d played out in intricate detail. The title of the book had been very clear on what was contained within the pages.
Pain Play: How to Make Your Male Submissive Hurt So Good.
If I hadn’t been with him before, I might have assumed one of the other men was the male submissive. At least until he reacted to me finding the book. His posture had ‘embarrassed sub’ written all over it. “How many things have you played out from the book?” I asked.
“Well, with Waylon—”
“Not with Waylon. How many things haveyouhad done to you?”
One of his fangs scraped against his upper lip nervously. “None.”
“That’s a shame. What’s your favourite one you want to try?”
He didn’t answer. If only he could remember the cock biting and the knife and blood play. Would one of those be the top of his list, or was there something I’d missed?
“I’m not going to judge you. I’m curious.”
The pause was so extended I turned back to the shelves and continued glancing through the books, not wanting to force him into volunteering information. I startled when he spoke. “Milking. I want to try being tied down and having cum milked from my cock until there’s none left and it’s painful to even think about another orgasm.”
Looking over my shoulder, I noted he’d loosened his grip on the book. I held out a hand for it and he gave it back to me. “What page?” I asked.
He grumbled a number, and I turned to the page.
