Page 221 of Librarian

“Kyrith.” He glares at me. “Let me finish.”

“Sorry?” I smile sweetly at him. “I thought we were talking about all the reasons I should forgive you and let you join the others in peeling me out of this acutely uncomfortable underwear, so that I can enjoy having a fully functional body once again? Was I wrong?”

Leo sighs, his hands leaving his pockets to reach out and grab the back of my neck in a proprietary move, bringing me closer so I’m pressed against him and forced up onto my tiptoes.

“I did those things because I’m trying my hardest not to be a shite person. They have nothing to do with this. It took months for you to regain your body, and you deserve to share it with the men who’ve never broken your trust, as I have, if that’s what you want.”

My hands land on his shoulders, pulling myself closer still until my mouth is at his ear. “What I want, Sir, is for you to fuck me and fill me up while you make me cry and beg for it. You’re a good man. I love you, and I forgave you the second I felt the Arcanaeum waking up again.”

His brows furrow as I lean away, his thumb stroking the side of my neck as he processes what I said, judging my sincerity slowly. Even then, disbelief lingers in the set of his jaw.

“To be clear…”

“You can come.” It would be unfair if he were the only one who couldn’t. “And I think this definitely counts as a chaperoned exercise, don’t you?”

I’m not sure I need it. Still, I get the sense that Leo does. North was right when he said that the man in front of me will probably punish himself for longer than I ever intended to.

Leo reaches down with his free hand and pulls out a small strip of black velvet from his pocket.

“I had this made when I signed the contract.” He traces the tiny ring in the centre with his thumb. “I know I’ve not earned it yet. I plan to keep working until I’m worthy of you, even if it takes me a lifetime. I’m not pressuring you at all, but I just got you back, and I don’t want to waste another second if maybe you?—”

“Is that a collar?”

His chin jerk is brief. “A discreet one, of course.”

Of course. No one needs to know that the Librarian is desperate for the rector to pour wax over her clamped nipples on a regular basis.

“But when we play, it does this.” He rubs a finger over the back of the clasp, and I feel the brush of his magic as the collar turns from a simple band of soft velvet into a delicate leather martingale with fine silver chains across the front. “If you agree to it, of course.”

“I’ve read about collaring,” I admit, testing the weight of it for myself. “I never added it to the contract because I never thought this would become something permanent.”

His lip quirks. “Nothing is more permanent than the way I feel about you.”

He can be quite the poet when he wants to be.

My cheeks heat. “Then I want it.”

He releases my nape, making me pout, and his face twists into something unreadable.

“I haven’t earned it yet,” he repeats.

My heart falls as the pretty leather is taken away. I should say something, but I can’t find the words. I’m not sure they’d work even if I did. Lowering myself to my knees is instinctual. The way he freezes above me strengthens my resolve, even as my nerves flutter.

“Do you want me to beg for it, Sir?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the floor in front of me.

He groans under his breath. “You don’t play fair, Kyrie.”

“The collar is a gift,” I say. “This”—I spread my hands to indicate my submissive posture before returning them to my lap—“is a gift. Gifts aren’t earned. They’re given.”

Love isn’t earned. The words hang heavy and silent in the air between us.

He doesn’t say or do anything for the longest moment. Then he steps closer, hand falling to my hair, grounding me.

“You make a solid argument.”

I hear the words, but I only relax when he crouches behind me, brushing aside my braid to buckle the leather above thenecklace Dakari got me. The collar sits high on my throat, and when he runs his forefinger under the band to check the fit, my breath turns shallow.

“Too tight?” he asks.