Rowan only thought briefly about whether he wanted to stay bent over the table obediently awaiting his torture, or if he wanted to see what would happen if he didn't. After he'd barely taken more than a breath, he stood and straightened his shirt.
His heart hammered in his ears as he waited in the middle of his kitchen, frozen with excitement. Any lingering pain from the poison he'd absorbed had been obliterated by the heat of Wren's mouth on his and the desire coursing through his veins.
He didn't want to hurt Wren or upset him, and he was genuinely sorry about leaving without telling him. Despite everything, he was still Wren's Caretaker, and from now on he would do a better job of respecting those emotions that simmered under the surface of Wren's insecurities, even if he was unable to give him everything he asked for.
