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She barely felt him untie her and wipe her clean. Then she was in his arms and he carried her up to her bedroom. He tucked her under the covers, made certain the bathroom light was on, and laid a kiss on her forehead.
It was all very pleasant, almost sweet.
Then he left her. Alone. Like every other night. She wrapped the blankets around her and tried to tell herself it wasn’t a rejection. That it didn’t matter he couldn’t or wouldn’t sleep with her. That she didn’t care.
Even though she knew she did.
She hesitated as she laid her hand on the door handle leading to his office. She wasn’t sure exactly why. She’d been coming to his office at this same time for the last eight nights.
And, yet, tonight she hesitated. Why? She knew there would be pleasure. And pain. And she knew she would enjoy herself. Hell, she fucking loved everything he did to her. Even when she couldn’t walk very easily the next day. But he was holding back.
He wasn’t using her in the way she knew he enjoyed. He was still treating her with kid gloves. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She spent plenty of her time with a sore ass, her nipples and clit clamped, her bottom plugged. Last night, she’d even spent some time in the corner, her arms bound behind her, her painfully sore butt on display as she’d been made to stick it out, her nose pressed to the corner.
Yeah, she was in no hurry to repeat that. Unfortunately, for her, she’d made the mistake of saying something disparaging about her non-existent boobs and he’d taken exception.
But still, there was something missing. And she wasn’t certain how to bring it up.
You should ask him.
What? Ask him to take her roughly? What if she didn’t like it? Then what? She rubbed her aching head. And what if he didn’t want to do that with her? What if she was lacking somehow? What if the reason things hadn’t progressed was because of her?
They had their little routine. She’d head to his office each evening after his brothers left. They’d play for a while. Then after each session, he took her back up to her bedroom, carrying her if necessary, and tucked her gently into bed. Like a child.
The orgasms were awesome. Amazing. Like nothing she’d ever had. It was just . . . it was starting to feel like she was being placed into this box. Like she was an appointment on his schedule.
From nine to eleven, fuck and dominate Mia.
Okay, she needed to stop being stupid. She should be glad he didn’t want to sleep with her, last thing she needed was to wake him up with one of her nightmares. She’d hoped the nightmares might ease off with how exhausted she was when she tumbled into bed after a session. And she had to admit, she was falling asleep easier these days—almost before he even left the room.
But if anything, the nightmares were getting worse. And she knew it was because the trial was getting closer. She’d spoken to Mike a week ago about going back to New York. She’d had her first Skype session with the assistant DA just that morning. She’d felt so ill afterwards she’d thrown up. Thankfully, she’d been alone so no one else had heard her. But if talking about it with the lawyer had made her ill, how was she going to cope with testifying while Angelo was in the room.
Frankie Angelo.
She shuddered. Okay, she had to stop talking thinking about this or she was going to make herself ill again. Taking a deep breath, she knocked once on the door then entered as she heard him call out a greeting.
As soon as the door was shut, she locked it then started to strip, folding her clothes and placing them on the floor by the door.
Then she strode over to where he was working at his desk. He didn’t look up. Mostly, that never bothered her. But tonight, it made her feel icky inside. Unwanted.
Stop it, Mia.
She knelt at his feet, placed her hands palm up on her thighs and spread her legs wide, straightened her spine, and kept her head down. She didn’t much like this position. She preferred when she was between his legs, with her hands on his thighs. It felt more intimate. But right now, he was working. So she needed to wait.
Normally, she enjoyed the peace. She liked taking a moment to
center herself. It helped her go from the Mia outside to the one in here. She fidgeted around, unable to stay still. Too much was going on inside her head to find any sort of calm.
He immediately wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, the gesture both comforting and commanding.
“What’s going on, kitten?”
“Nothing, Sir.” She didn’t want to talk about any of the shit going on inside her head. She was a mess. Her thoughts jumbled, jumping from one worry to another with lightning speed. Nausea bubbled low in her stomach.
He moved his hand away from her neck and she sat back. He turned his chair to face her, but she kept her gaze lowered. “Sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”
“Eyes to me, kitten.”
She let out a quiet sigh. Damn it. The man saw too much. But she raised her eyes to meet his gaze, knowing she didn’t have much choice.
