Merlin took a breath and a larger sip of port. He quite enjoyed the playful banter they usually participated in. Use me hurt me sounded a lot more than their usual activity. “That’s what you want?” he asked, topping up her glass with a splash more. “Do our usual ground rules still apply?” Safe words would be important, when she was so vulnerable. He didn’t want to push her too far.
But then, how far was too far when it came to a girl who was a live-in sex slave, anyway?
“No ground rules,” Luna told him with a slight shake of her head, already starting to feel the change in the air, the suggestion of something more than just McDonalds and teenage fuckheads and a million daily petty things piling up on her.
She lifted the glass to her lips and this time she took a sip, restraining herself from just throwing herself headlong into a drunken blackout. It wasn’t a useful method of coping with anything, the drinking. You just woke up feeling hungover and wishing you were drunk again. But the fucking? That could reset something, release something. “If I say ‘red’ you stop, but other than that, no rules.”
He lifted his brows slightly. He’d been to some dark places of his own in the past, been with girls who hadn’t all the way chosen to be in that position. He wasn’t always a very nice wizard, although it suited him to be seen as such by most people. This might damage their working relationship which he so enjoyed, and if Peitho thought he was getting more from their arrangement than had been agreed upon she might get annoyed, but…
Luna also wasn’t dressed the way she usually did when she came to him. She was in her own clothes, not made up, no cute garter belts or whimsical costumes today. After a long pause, he finished his glass and set it carefully aside. He was in everyday clothes of his own today too. No three piece suit, just a plum velvet coat over a white shirt and charcoal slacks, nothing exceptional.
“Take off your coat,” he said, not looking at her, straightening his shoulders. His tone was deeper, imbued with more authority than the man who went to antique stores to haggle for old silverware. This was the tone of the right hand of the King, who was used to being obeyed without question.