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didn’t think he was trying to be ticklish, but he wasn’t as rough as he sometimes got.
I jerked when his lips pressed against my hip bone and again when he gave it a light nip. Usually, it would have turned me on, but at the moment, I was too concerned I was doing something wrong.
Which was stupid, I told myself. He wanted me on the table ready for his use and that was what I was doing. The only wrong thing was being so worried and scattered. I tried to force myself to relax into his touch.
There are times your mind can come up with crazy stuff. On the table, trying to feel nothing but his touch, my brain came up with the most ludicrous thoughts:
Maybe you’re not submissive anymore.
You’re doing everything wrong.
This probably means you shouldn’t take the job.
I wasn’t sure how long I stayed on the table, lost in my own mind, imagining nonexistent mess-ups. But I knew the minute something was horribly, horribly off.
His hands started at my ankles and moved up the inner portion of my leg. Moving slowly and intently, he circled my thighs and then slid a finger into me. I couldn’t hold back the yelp that followed because it fucking hurt.
“You’re not the slightest bit aroused,” he said, sounding just as surprised as I was.
“I’m sorry, Master,” I choked out. “I don’t know what my problem is.”
He slid the blindfold from my eyes and I blinked in the soft light, finally focusing on his worried expression. “You think you should apologize?” he asked. “Why is it your fault I’m not turning you on?”
“The way you say it makes it sound like you’re doing something wrong.”
“Sit up,” he said, helping me get upright. “One of us doesn’t have to be doing something wrong. It could be any number of things and is probably a combination of several.”
“But—”
He placed a finger against my lips. “Stop. You shouldn’t need a reminder that it is wrong for you to argue with me in the playroom.”
“Sorry, Master.”
His lips brushed mine. “Let’s go for a jog together, clear our heads. Do you have something you can put together quickly for dinner?”
I ran through what I had in the refrigerator. “I have some tuna that won’t take long to cook. I’ll do that with a salad.”
“That sounds delicious.” His smile was easy now and my heart lightened. While I knew not to look for something or someone to place blame on for my lack of arousal, I couldn’t help but think that if I hadn’t been so distracted, the evening might have been different. But Nathaniel was aware I’d been distracted and he wasn’t placing blame.
Our jog together reminded me of how we used to be when I wore his collar every weekend. We knew each other so well now, our bodies automatically adjusted to the other’s speed. Granted, he could run a lot faster and farther than I could, so in reality he was probably the one adjusting his speed. I felt touched by his love when I thought about how he was doing that. It was a beautiful evening and we headed out at an easy pace. Apollo whined when we didn’t take him with us, but he was getting older and would hurt himself trying to keep up with us.
We jogged around the perimeter of our estate. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed running with Nathaniel. Every so often, I’d peek out of the corner of my eyes to watch him. There was such grace in the way he moved. Such strength in his legs.
He caught me one time and smiled. “I think I’ll have you jog naked next time.” I almost tripped over my feet and he reached out to steady me. “Careful.”
“What?”
“Have you jog naked. I’ve never had you do it. It might be fun.”
I snorted. “For you.”
“Exactly.”
We turned slightly and headed toward the flower garden. It was spring and we’d recently had some landscaping done, so many of the plants were small and new.
“Like little babies,” I said.
“The cleomes?”
“Yes, it’s like we have a little plant nursery.”
He didn’t say anything for several strides and then he surprised me with, “Are you pregnant?”
“Because I mentioned babies?” Honestly? Where had that come from?
“It just seemed strange bringing up babies in the middle of the garden.”
“It was just a metaphor.” I still didn’t make the connection. Unless he meant something more with his question. “Do you want a third child?”
We’d talked about it when I was pregnant with Henry and at the time, we’d decided to have only two. I really hadn’t given much thought to another child. It hadn’t even registered in my mind that it would be something that could happen.
He slowed to a brisk walk and I followed. Good. The slower pace would give me time to think.
“I hadn’t thought about another child until right now,” he said. “I’m content with two. A third? I don’t know. That would give us odd numbers. We’d have to have four to even it all out.”
I laughed. “That’s seriously part of your thought process? Not which room we’ll put them in or if we’d have time for everyone or even if we would need a bigger car to fit five or anything like that, just that the number is odd?”
“My mind likes even numbers.” He spoke so matter-of-factly, I couldn’t tell if he was being serious. Sometimes his dry sense of humor threw me. But then he gave a little grin to show he was joking. At least a little bit.
“Then I’m going to say I don’t think so to child three, because I don’t think I could do four.” My mind still couldn’t wrap itself around three. Four? There were plenty of women who could do it. I didn’t think Felicia would have a problem, for instance, but I couldn’t get there. “The doctor visits alone would do me in. Can you imagine two more children with ear infections like Henry has had?”
“No. I honestly can’t.” His nose wrinkled up. “And the diapers.”
“Right? I’m looking forward to when Henry’s out of them and the entire house is potty trained.”
He laughed softly and reached for my hand. “That will be a wonderful day.”
We walked back to the house and it wasn’t until we stepped inside that I realized I hadn’t thought of the blog the entire time we were outside or jogging. Instead, I’d been caught up in spending time with Nathaniel, simply enjoying the evening with my Master. It wasn’t just the sex I missed when I didn’t wear his collar; it was everything about our D/s relationship.
Once inside, he stroked my cheek, told me he’d eat at seven, and went to take a shower. Since it was a bit late, I took mine in the bathroom attached to the old submissive bedroom I used so long ago. That way I could start dinner without being sweaty and having to wait for Nathaniel to finish.
While I prepared our supper, I tried to remember how long it’d been since I’d served him a meal while wearing his collar. I couldn’t recall. I pulled out my favorite china, a set I’d found in the attic right after our engagement. It was Japanese inspired and decorated with vibrant reds and blues. I assumed he would have me serve him in the dining room, so I prepared the table for one.
He entered the dining room at seven and his lips curved up slightly when he saw the china. “Very nice, Abigail.”
“Thank you, Master.”
I remained standing to his side while he ate and a feeling of peace and contentment washed over me. I needed this. It was part of who I was, of who we were. We had to make room in our schedules for it.
He suddenly pushed back from the table. “Come here, Abigail.”
I looked at his plate in shock. Was something wrong? Was the tuna raw or overcooked? It had looked good when I took it out of the oven.
“Here.” He patted his thigh. “Sit in my lap.”
Oh. Well, that was much better than burned or undercooked fish. I threw my shoulders back and climbed into his lap in as sultry a manner as I could. This would be more fun if I was naked. Or if he was. Or if we both were.
“Open.” He held a
forkful of tuna to my mouth. I parted my lips and he slipped it inside. “Good, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Not bad,” I said, licking my lips. “Maybe a little heavy on the pepper.”
