Hardy serves himself—themselves—multiple times. The food is great, and Luke is eager to eat. Luke loves mashed potatoes, and Hardy’s are perfect. It’s even a match for Florette’s back home.
When half the casserole dish is gone, Hardy stops feeding them. He settles the cutlery on top of the empty plate and stands up, setting everything in the sink.
Hardy steps until he’s right in front of Luke. He pats Luke’s head affectionately before saying, “You did very well today, Luke.”
Luke preens, cheeks heating.
“You knelt and stayed still, you didn’t blabber off like I know you wanted to, and you didn’t even cave into your arousal and do something about that erection. I’m very proud. Now, though,” his mouth curves into a sadistic smile, “it’s time to test how much control you have on yourself.
