Reynard’s brain felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton. His short-term memory – and, he was pretty sure, some of his long-term – was foggy, muddled, or just plain gone. And what he could remember – well, wasn’t the best set of memories.
He was fairly certain the woman sitting in front of him wouldn’t take any of that for an answer. What was more, although she hadn’t given him a direct order, he could feel the pressure of the bond on him.
That was strange. But he wouldn’t get any answers until he gave her what she wanted. If then.
He cleared his throat, and found that that too hurt.
“I was – I was…I guess I was being a ‘fox in the henhouse.’ If you remember my name, you know I’m not…” He was being kind of pitiful. He swallowed against the pain and tried again. “I was having fun. Seducing a double handful of pretty people.” The memory brought a nostalgic smile to his lips. “Balancing as many secrets as I could and getting as many of them in bed with me at once at the same time. I was having a blast.”
He risked a look at her face, and was a bit relieved to find that she was smirking at him.
“I remember that about you.”
“I – I’m glad?” He wished he could remember her.
“Not a bad thing, being remembered. Go on.”
And now that, that was an order. Reynard swallowed again. “Turns out I was somewhere someone else was making a home and she, she didn’t like what I was doing. Called me out, her and her beast.” He twitched his hands to make a gesture, only then remembering he was bound. “Fuck, ow! Big guy.” He smirked sideways. “Did it right and fair, too. Next thing I know I’m on my knees and this gorgeous redhead is whispering in my ear, you can be mine or you can be his.” He shrugged.
“Next thing I know, I wake up here with your knife pointing at me.”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/763771.html. You can comment here or there.