As soon as Mallory was on her feet, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his body. His arms were strong and warm around her, melting a protective wall she had not realized she’d built.
What was that?
Why was he the one to tear it down?
She slowly slid her arms around Fletcher’s middle to hug him back as her eyes filled with tears that were soon rolling down her face. It had been a long time since anyone, but especially a man, had hugged her.
Fletcher held her with one thick arm wrapped around her waist while the other lay across her upper back. When he bent that arm and cupped her head with that hand then began to slowly rub over her scalp, emotions she’d been suppressing for an eternity broke free and she began to cry.
Her arms tightened around his middle and her knees went wobbly as her tears turned into sobs and her entire body began to shake. Fletcher did not speak, just tightened his hold around her, taking her weight easily as she leaned deeper into him.
She thought she could feel a few pieces of her shattered heart move back together. Was a bearhug from a man what she needed to truly heal from her past? Or was there something more at play here?
She could not understand why Fletcher didn’t shove her away so he could run far and fast as she had the biggest meltdown of her life. But he didn’t. He held her and huggedher, rocking her side to side, never saying a word until her tears slowed then finally stopped, and she was left a snotty, hiccupping tear-covered mess.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she lifted her head from his chest.
“I’m not,” Fletcher said in a soft, gentle rumble. “I’m honored that you felt safe enough to let go of all that repressed emotion.”
“I haven’t been hugged like that in a long time. It ripped the door off the box I’d been stuffing all my emotions into. Maybe that’s why I’ve had such a hard time drawing lately. To me, creating is about expressing emotion on the page. Anyway, thanks for the hug.” Mallory said before giving a big yawn. “Excuse me. All of the sudden I’m exhausted.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes to pack your things and then we’ll head to my suite for a nap and your first shibari lesson. After that, we’ll call room service and relax with a movie.”
Mallory nodded as she yawned again. “Yes, Sir.”
Though Fletcher had never had an interest in being a Daddy Dom, he did feel the need to take care of the clearly drained and exhausted Mallory. Touching her, hugging her, and more, would quickly become his favorite things to do. He couldn’t wait to see her lovely curves decorated with his ropes in the days to come. The more he thought about it, the more he thought training a newbie, training Mallory, might just be the challenge he’d been looking for.
But that would wait until tomorrow.
He watched as she slipped on the white flats in the closet before starting to pack. The first things to go in the suitcase were a large folder she pulled from behind the desk. She then packedher clothes and a bag of toiletries from the bathroom followed by some sort of sleepwear she’d tucked under her pillow. The last thing to go in was the pile of books, folders and a cloth bag from the desk.
Once she finished, he took control of the rolling suitcase then held out his free hand. He smiled in approval when Mallory slipped her hand into his. Instead of walking the length of the hall to the elevator, he led the way to the stairs located just outside her door.
“Shouldn’t I be carrying the suitcase?” she asked as they descended to his floor.
“Why would you think that?”
“Well, I am the submissive, so shouldn’t I be doing the work?”
“Is that what you think? That being submissive means doing the heavy lifting?” Fletcher asked as he worked to keep himself from frowning at such flawed thinking.
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Mallory shrugged, though she did not speak.
“Words, bunny. Use your words. Communication is vital in a BDSM relationship. Otherwise I might hurt you and not know it.”
“I guess, yes, I did think that. Though around here, the men barely let the women do anything,” Mallory said softly.
“Any man who makes his women carry heavy things while his hands are empty is no gentleman. Women are to be cherished, even as they’re being flogged or whipped or tied up. I like to think my mama raised me to be a gentleman and not just a male of the human species.”
When she did not immediately respond, Fletcher glanced at her, and found her looking thoughtful.
Finally she nodded and looked up at him. “That’s an interesting way to look at it. And from evidence gained today, your mother definitely raised a gentleman.”
Chapter Nine
Mallory woke slowly the next morning, feeling better than she had in ages. She was warm, but it wasn’t just a perfect amount of covers warm, it was a warmth that extended all the way down to her soul. For the first time in months, she had not woken a dozen times during the night to crazy dreams or thoughts that would keep her brain spinning for the rest of the night.
She tried to roll over but could not move her hands away from one another. Opening her eyes, she looked at them in the dim light available. She frowned when she found them tied together with a dark rope that went around her wrists and her hands and through her fingers.
