The Saint
Page 109
30
Eleanor
SOMETHING TICKLED ELEANOR’S NOSE. SHE SWIPED at it without opening her eyes. She flipped over in bed and pressed into her pillow. Her pillow didn’t feel like her pillow, however. Instead of soft, it felt hard. Very hard.
“Bonne anniversaire,” a voice whispered in her ear.
Her eyes flew open and Eleanor sat up in bed. Kingsley lay stretched out on his side next to her on her narrow dorm bed, a white rose in his fingers. He tickled her nose with it again and she batted it away.
“King, what the f**k? How did you get in here?”
She pulled the covers up to her chest. She’d gone to bed in a tank top and panties and nothing else.
“Your roommate let me in.”
“Great. So my old roommate sees me getting kissed and calls the rape squad. My new roommate sends you an engraved invitation to jump in bed with me while I’m unconscious.”
“It wasn’t engraved.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven.”
“Seven? You’re up at seven in the morning?”
“Up? I haven’t been to bed yet. Not for sleeping anyway.”
“Nice.” She grabbed a ponytail holder off her nightstand and tried to tame her hair. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“I brought gifts.”
“Gifts?”
“Oui.” Kingsley pointed to a chair piled high with gifts.
“All for me?”
“Pour toi.”
As Eleanor reached out for the boxes, Kingsley grabbed her and pulled her across his lap. In shock she screamed and squirmed. Kingsley subdued her quickly and spanked her.
“This is the best part of birthdays. Stop fighting me, brat.”
The word brat made her freeze immediately. She wasn’t sure why except she had the sinking feeling she liked being called brat by Kingsley. As soon as her struggle ceased, he gave her twenty vicious swats to the bottom.
“Twenty,” Kingsley said and gave her the last and hardest spank. She yelped and her bedroom door flew open. April, her buxom R.A., looked like she’d just crawled out of bed. She had nothing on but a bathrobe barely closed over her br**sts.
“Elle, you okay? I heard screaming.”
Eleanor got up on her hands and knees.
“She’s fine,” Kingsley said, pulling Eleanor back down onto his lap. “Birthday spankings.”
April looked hard at Kingsley and ran a hand through her disheveled hair.
“It’s my birthday, too,” April said to Kingsley.
“April, get out,” Eleanor ordered.
“I’m out.” April closed the door behind her.
“Are you done?” Eleanor looked over her shoulder at Kingsley.
“Non.” He spanked her one more time. “One to grow on.”
“I hate you almost as much as I hate Søren.”
“You won’t hate me after you open your cadeaux.”
Wincing, she sat back on her bed with the presents in her lap. Sitting in class all day was going to be a challenge.
“Are these from you?” She sorted through the boxes of varying size. The smallest one intrigued her most.
“Three from me. One from Sam.”
“Sam?” Eleanor couldn’t help but grin. “Sam got me a present?”
“She did. You can open that one first.” He picked up a small flat box wrapped in pink paper with a black ribbon. She untied the ribbon and opened the lid.
“Oh, my God …” She held a leather journal in her hand and a fancy fountain pen.
“Sam read one of your stories. She says you should write more.”
“Tell her to watch out. I might write about you and Sam someday.”
“A good story. Open that one.”
She tore off the wrapping and found nothing but tissue paper inside the box. She kept digging until she found an envelope all the way at the bottom.
Inside the envelope she found a stack of hundred-dollar bills.
“Kingsley. I don’t want your money.”
“It’s a birthday gift.”
“How much is this?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
Eleanor glared at him.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Shop. You need a new wardrobe.”
“My clothes are fine.”
“Your clothes are fine for school. Your clothes are fine for the vanilla world. Your clothes are not fine for the world you’re about to enter. Sam will take you shopping tomorrow at a few authorized locations.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Only buy white. We have a dress code.”
“I don’t like taking money I didn’t earn. I only took Dad’s insurance money because Søren ordered me to.”
“You are the collared property of the most revered man in my world, in our world. I’m feared. I’m respected. He is worshipped. All of the Underground is waiting to make your acquaintance. Do you understand that?”
“No.”
“You will.”
“King, what’s happening here?” She looked down at the money in her hand. She always refused money and gifts and even rides from Kingsley. She wouldn’t step foot in his Rolls-Royce unless Kingsley or Søren were with her. The last thing she ever wanted was for Søren to think she only loved him for his connections.
Kingsley rolled off her pillow and leaned back on his hands. He looked almost normal today in his jeans and black T-shirt pulled taut over his strong, broad chest. A leather jacket lay draped over the back of her desk chair. He looked too old to be a student but not old enough to be a professor. Her bitchy airhead roommate Brandi-Ann had probably soaked her panties at the sight of him and told him he could have his way with her.
Eleanor
SOMETHING TICKLED ELEANOR’S NOSE. SHE SWIPED at it without opening her eyes. She flipped over in bed and pressed into her pillow. Her pillow didn’t feel like her pillow, however. Instead of soft, it felt hard. Very hard.
“Bonne anniversaire,” a voice whispered in her ear.
Her eyes flew open and Eleanor sat up in bed. Kingsley lay stretched out on his side next to her on her narrow dorm bed, a white rose in his fingers. He tickled her nose with it again and she batted it away.
“King, what the f**k? How did you get in here?”
She pulled the covers up to her chest. She’d gone to bed in a tank top and panties and nothing else.
“Your roommate let me in.”
“Great. So my old roommate sees me getting kissed and calls the rape squad. My new roommate sends you an engraved invitation to jump in bed with me while I’m unconscious.”
“It wasn’t engraved.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven.”
“Seven? You’re up at seven in the morning?”
“Up? I haven’t been to bed yet. Not for sleeping anyway.”
“Nice.” She grabbed a ponytail holder off her nightstand and tried to tame her hair. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“I brought gifts.”
“Gifts?”
“Oui.” Kingsley pointed to a chair piled high with gifts.
“All for me?”
“Pour toi.”
As Eleanor reached out for the boxes, Kingsley grabbed her and pulled her across his lap. In shock she screamed and squirmed. Kingsley subdued her quickly and spanked her.
“This is the best part of birthdays. Stop fighting me, brat.”
The word brat made her freeze immediately. She wasn’t sure why except she had the sinking feeling she liked being called brat by Kingsley. As soon as her struggle ceased, he gave her twenty vicious swats to the bottom.
“Twenty,” Kingsley said and gave her the last and hardest spank. She yelped and her bedroom door flew open. April, her buxom R.A., looked like she’d just crawled out of bed. She had nothing on but a bathrobe barely closed over her br**sts.
“Elle, you okay? I heard screaming.”
Eleanor got up on her hands and knees.
“She’s fine,” Kingsley said, pulling Eleanor back down onto his lap. “Birthday spankings.”
April looked hard at Kingsley and ran a hand through her disheveled hair.
“It’s my birthday, too,” April said to Kingsley.
“April, get out,” Eleanor ordered.
“I’m out.” April closed the door behind her.
“Are you done?” Eleanor looked over her shoulder at Kingsley.
“Non.” He spanked her one more time. “One to grow on.”
“I hate you almost as much as I hate Søren.”
“You won’t hate me after you open your cadeaux.”
Wincing, she sat back on her bed with the presents in her lap. Sitting in class all day was going to be a challenge.
“Are these from you?” She sorted through the boxes of varying size. The smallest one intrigued her most.
“Three from me. One from Sam.”
“Sam?” Eleanor couldn’t help but grin. “Sam got me a present?”
“She did. You can open that one first.” He picked up a small flat box wrapped in pink paper with a black ribbon. She untied the ribbon and opened the lid.
“Oh, my God …” She held a leather journal in her hand and a fancy fountain pen.
“Sam read one of your stories. She says you should write more.”
“Tell her to watch out. I might write about you and Sam someday.”
“A good story. Open that one.”
She tore off the wrapping and found nothing but tissue paper inside the box. She kept digging until she found an envelope all the way at the bottom.
Inside the envelope she found a stack of hundred-dollar bills.
“Kingsley. I don’t want your money.”
“It’s a birthday gift.”
“How much is this?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
Eleanor glared at him.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Shop. You need a new wardrobe.”
“My clothes are fine.”
“Your clothes are fine for school. Your clothes are fine for the vanilla world. Your clothes are not fine for the world you’re about to enter. Sam will take you shopping tomorrow at a few authorized locations.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Only buy white. We have a dress code.”
“I don’t like taking money I didn’t earn. I only took Dad’s insurance money because Søren ordered me to.”
“You are the collared property of the most revered man in my world, in our world. I’m feared. I’m respected. He is worshipped. All of the Underground is waiting to make your acquaintance. Do you understand that?”
“No.”
“You will.”
“King, what’s happening here?” She looked down at the money in her hand. She always refused money and gifts and even rides from Kingsley. She wouldn’t step foot in his Rolls-Royce unless Kingsley or Søren were with her. The last thing she ever wanted was for Søren to think she only loved him for his connections.
Kingsley rolled off her pillow and leaned back on his hands. He looked almost normal today in his jeans and black T-shirt pulled taut over his strong, broad chest. A leather jacket lay draped over the back of her desk chair. He looked too old to be a student but not old enough to be a professor. Her bitchy airhead roommate Brandi-Ann had probably soaked her panties at the sight of him and told him he could have his way with her.
