Page 75 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

He lifts his head, licking my slickness off his lips as he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Absolutely, sweetheart.”

I brush my fingers through his hair, relishing its softness. He seems pleased to stay there as I explore, and as I fall into the almost hypnotic tempo of combing my fingers through his hair. A few more tears fall from my eyes and I warble out a plaintive question.

“Am I still in trouble?”

He sighs softly, slipping his fingers out of me before reaching for the dishcloth and wiping my face with it. “No, sweetheart. You did so well for me. So obedient, so good.”

“Are you angry at me?” I ask, more tears coming.

“No,” he says as he gathers me up in his arms and pulls me down onto the floor with him and cradles me close in his lap. “I was just hurt. I thought you didn’t want me.”

“I want you so much,” I weep. “I just don’t want something bad to happen to you because of me. Damien, I could never forgive myself if that happened.”

“I know,” he says, brushing my tears away with the pads of his thumbs now. He kisses my forehead, and then my cheek and then my mouth. It’s surprisingly chaste, considering what we just did. When he pulls back, he smiles down at me, his sharpened teeth glinting. “As far as punishments go, that one was pretty fun, huh?”

And just like that, he’s back to Damien. My Damien. Not my Dom. My cute drummer boyfriend who helps wash the dishes and accuses me of slut-shaming him. Somehow, he is both of these things at once. He inhabits two very separate personas. And I love that about him. I love the nuance and dichotomy. I love that his demanding side is one that only I get to see.

“It was,” I say with a laugh.

He nuzzles into my neck, nipping at it gently. “And now my favorite part,” he says.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Aftercare,” he says blissfully.

ㅤ

About twenty minutes later, I help Lillith out of the shower, enjoying the way her silvery hair clings to the pale slope of her spine while I wrap her both in my arms and one of her fluffy towels. Before long I’m making an attempt at braiding her hair for her as she clumsily brushes my teeth, since my arms are otherwise occupied. She’s laughing, and I try to clock this moment in my mind for later—the strange chaos and domesticity of it that feels just... perfect. She laughs as I produce my tongue for her to scrub, and I continue my lousy plaiting of her hair.

“You’re going to spit on me!” she squeals.

“Lillith, baby. I jus’ had my thoungue all ober your clith,” I say through the foam. “I think you can hanthol a lithle toothpathe.”

She collapses against my chest in another fit of giggles, allowing me to lean forward to spit into the sink as I cradle her close. Her braid completely falls out, regardless of my attempts to secure it.

I like to make my subs laugh after an intense scene. I like to bring levity back into the room after I get sadistic and mean. All things considered, I let Lillith off pretty easy. I’ve doled out much worse punishments, but after making her cry with the degradation, I didn’t want to push her too hard. Especially not without doing some more thorough negotiations.

Honestly, the whole thing was pretty risky. I can see that now I’m out of the haze of my own horniness. I’ll have to really check in during the next few days to make sure she’s doing alright—that I didn’t go too heavy on the disciplinary tone of the scene and that she doesn’t think she’s actually causing problems between us.

I come back to focusing on her when she wipes at my mouth with a clean washcloth. I smile down at her, and she returns the expression. She reaches up with a tentative fingertip and touches one of my sharpened teeth. “I really love these,” she says.

“Feels kind of embarrassing to have them now I know you fraternize with actual vampires,” I say.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s different. Vampire canines are actually edged—like tiny blades. Makes for an easier puncture of the skin. When you bite me, it feels more like—deep. More like bruising.”

“Yeah? That something you enjoy?”

She nods a bit sheepishly. “I mean—yes—uhm...”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that when we’re outside a scene, baby,” I say. “Clear communication is really important to me during power exchange, and allowing you to communicate non-verbally could lead to you clamming up when you actually need to use a safe word. It’s just about building good habits.”

I cup her jaw in my hand, and she leans into it. “I love your sheepish little nods otherwise. I love that you want to be marked up and punished by me, but are too embarrassed to say it out loud.”

She groans and hides her face in my chest. I chuckle. “Case in point,” I say.

“It really was... I mean, that was better than anything I’ve ever done,” she admits to my sternum.

“Really? Better than the fae guy? Better than ‘ecstatic tantric sex’?”