Loathe to Love Ch. 04

How guilty she'd looked once I started to cry.

Okay, maybe she wasn't entirely motivated by cruelty. But still—that kind of callousness was uncalled for, and I was right to respond to hers with my own. Well, not right to, but...she'd started it! I'd wanted to get closer to her tonight, not to end up pushing her further away. She'd ruined that for both of us. And it wasn't like I actually hated her anyway. I'd just said that. To hurt her.

Shit.

I kicked the wall in frustration. It hurt.

My tears gradually ran out over the next dozen minutes or so, leaving behind only tired frustration.

Why was I like this? Mother wasn't volatile; neither were any of my sisters—Bethany's petulance was too mild to count. And yet I exploded at the slightest provocation, lashing out at whoever was near. It'd served me well in the palace among my many foes, but now? It was unsustainable. Natalia couldn't tolerate my venom forever, nor would I expect her to. I had to find another way, had to take my chaotic jumbled emotions and channel them into some kind of constructive end.

Absently, I reached under my pillow and traced my fingers over the surface of the carving I'd stolen. My thoughts drifted back to the disposable gifts Natalia had offered as tributes to my irrational fury. At the time, I'd considered it a clever trick; a way for her to predict my behavior and keep her things safe. In hindsight, though, it felt closer to an act of care. She'd acknowledged my anger and made sure I did nothing I'd come to regret. Maybe I could do that too. Maybe I could get angry and not break anything at all.

I climbed out of bed and started for the hallway.

***

Lantern light flickered through the cracks in Natalia's bedroom door, signaling her wakefulness. I approached slowly at first, even reluctantly—funnily enough, I was heading into territory even more unfamiliar than seduction. Three taps on the door took away the option of running before I lost my nerve.

"Yes?" came Natalia's tired voice, the word wrapped up in a sigh.

"It's me."

Sounds of shuffling papers and a creaking chair echoed inside. "Come in."

I opened the door barely wide enough to worm my way into the room, as if trying to minimize any further disruptions to Natalia's night. She sat at her desk in loose sleep clothes and a pair of reading glasses, having apparently been studying the stack of orders behind her. An aura of uncertainty clung to her, though I couldn't tell if it was in regards to me or herself.

"Hello," she said mildly.

Squeezing the carving tucked in my dress pocket one last time, I opted for the simplest, most direct form of communication available:

I knelt down on the floor beside Natalia's chair and bowed my head.

To an outside observer, the room may have appeared still. To me, it quaked and shook with the rapid roar of my heartbeat. When I'd offered myself earlier in the evening, there'd been layers of playacting insulating me from the actual task itself—for better and for worse. Any acceptance or rejection would have been of the character I was portraying, dulling the joy of the former and the pain of the latter.

Here, though, I was just me. If Natalia didn't want me or didn't want to be together in this way, then there was no doubt or lack of clarity I could retreat to. It was terrifying, yes, but also something of a relief—certainty awaited me regardless of her response. And so I found myself sinking into a peculiar state of calm before I'd even learned Natalia's answer.

I sensed her shift beside me, leaning over to bear witness. I remained still.

A hand came down to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, the touch drawing a quiet moan from me as my hidden tension suddenly released. Recognizing my pleasure, the hand returned in earnest to stroke, scratch, and caress my hair and scalp. I practically melted on the spot, pressing my cheek against Natalia's thigh in gratitude.

For a long time, neither of us spoke. There was no need. I knew she had me from the way her calloused hand lavished attention along my face and neck, and she knew I was willing to be hers from the happy mewls and whimpers I made. I was so, so safe, and I didn't need to be anything else.

Long after the initial euphoria of our connection had settled into pleasant contentment, Natalia finally spoke.

"I should have thought about what tonight meant to you, and how you might feel about teasing," she murmured softly. "I was inconsiderate. For that, I apologize."

"I forgive you. And I'm sorry I yelled," I whispered. "I don't hate you."

"Thank you, Penelope. I forgive you." Natalia continued to shower me with soft touches, stroking the edges of my ears in a way that made me shiver in delight. "And thank you for coming to see me, and for being so honest and open. It pleases me to no end—and I know it couldn't have been easy."

I nodded against her thigh sagely. As sagely as I could in such a position, anyway.

The warmth and closeness of the moment was nice, and certainly worth basking in for a time, but it wasn't all I'd knelt for. There was a burning question lurking at the edge of my thoughts, one I barely had the vocabulary to ask, but I needed to at least air it in some capacity.

"Natalia?"

"Hm?"

I squinted as if trying to see the right words some great distance away. Each and every one leaving my lips felt as though it took a significant physical effort. "I...this is good. And, well, I...like being down here. It makes sense. It grounds me. And I suppose...I was wondering if you liked me too? Down here? And if maybe...I could stay down here? For a while?"

Natalia hummed to herself pleasedly, lost in thought. Though she was careful to keep her facial expression neutral, I couldn't help but notice her starting to bounce her other leg.

"Perhaps," she began cautiously, "we should be very specific. I like this too—and I certainly don't mind giving you comfort when you need it." She took a deep breath. "But for me? Comfort is more than caresses. It's about control. Rules. Punishments, if necessary. Caring for a spoiled kitten by making sure she doesn't get into too much mischief. Seeing her obey and flourish because of it. Shaping her, and being shaped by her in turn."

Natalia paused, as if suddenly aware of the intensity and longing in her tone. She scratched the back of her neck bashfully. "If that's what you want, I mean. I know it's...unusual. And we don't have to—"

"I want it." I gazed up at Natalia, my excitement fueling shame that only enticed me further. What a mess I was. What a delightful mess we'd make together. "Please."

Her eyes widened for a moment in absolute delight before she became self-conscious and wrestled her expression back into something subtler. It was adorable. "Good." She smirked. "Do you need me to explain what a rule is?"

I stuck out my tongue. "A boring thing for me to ignore."

"We'll see about that."

The predatory glee in her voice made me shudder.

"And Penelope?" Natalia added, growing serious again. "If we're going to do this, we have to trust each other. No more assuming bad intentions, alright?"

I winced. "Yes. Sorry. Again." Much as I'd like to pretend otherwise, though, I knew the possibility of a future meltdown was still very real. "I...I might still screw up sometimes."

"As will I." A round of behind-the-ear scritches eased away my extra tension. I leaned into it, practically preening with satisfaction. Natalia studied me closely, drinking in every detail and savoring the effects she had on me. "But perfection isn't necessary to teach or learn obedience. Only the hindsight to correct mistakes."

Right. And just as I'd taught myself to wield my anger as a weapon, so too could I find another use for it. Still... "Can we start slow?"

My wife leaned down to kiss my forehead. "As slow as we need."

I exhaled in relief. This was doable. I wasn't unchangeable, and I wasn't alone.

A devious little worm of a thought popped into my head, one I couldn't help sharing. "There's one final issue I wanted to discuss."

"Hmm?"

I lifted my head from Natalia's thigh and knelt as formally as I could manage. "As princess and princess-consort, propriety demands we share a bedroom. Otherwise, people will start to talk."

Natalia put a hand to her lips in faux shock. "Oh dear. Then I suppose we have no choice." She stood and swept me up into a bridal carry in one swift motion, prompting a tiny little 'eep!' from me. Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "After all, we'll be giving them plenty else to gossip about soon enough."