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“Come on,” he coaxed, his seductive smile luring her closer.
She crawled to him, not stopping until she was between his feet.
“That’s my good girl.” He edged closer to her, then wrapped a firm hand around her hair and tugged her closer. She gasped and closed her eyes, anticipating the feel of the head of his cock brushing her lips. He let go of her hair.
“Everly.”
She opened her eyes and looked up, but he’d tucked his cock away. In his hands was the prettiest collar she’d ever seen. It was feather-shaped, and purple and black, with each detail carved precisely into the leather. It was delicate and whimsical and she was delighted that he’d thought of her when he’d seen it. Ambrose held it like he was offering her a piece of his soul.
Reverently, she reached out and ran a finger over the ridges and buckle. “Is it for me?”
He nodded. “If you’ll have me. I had it made for you, just before . . .” His words trailed off, and a flash of hurt flickered behind his blue eyes.
She was such a bitch. Oh God. He really had loved her all along. She’d almost lost him, because she was offended that he loved her too much to tell her the truth. When they were apart, she tried to convince herself she hadn’t really known him. But even if his finances had been a mystery, she’d known him, like this, the whole time.
Ambrose fiddled with the collar, rubbing his thumb over the edge of it as though he’d held it in his hands many times. Had he held it and thought of her when they were apart?
Yes. He probably had. She felt humbled by the idea. The infatuation hadn’t been one-sided at all. She’d never been a joke to him, or just a challenge, like she’d feared.
“Does this mean . . . ?” she began. What if it was just a play collar? It was presumptuous to think he’d take such a big step so fast after they patched things up.
“It means I want you to be mine, Everly. Only mine. I want to protect you a
nd treasure you, love you and laugh with you. I want to punish you when you’re bad, and hold you while you sleep. I want to build my entire life around you.”
“And you would be my Master?” she whispered. “Not just for role-playing?” He hadn’t said so, but that seemed to be the way things had been going between them, before they’d been derailed.
“Yes.” His eyes were alight with an eerie intensity that made her squirm where she knelt.
“And I would be your . . . slave.” It was more real to say it now, in a tranquil moment, than when it had been said before, as a joke, or in lust. The word “slave” echoed through her, and she felt it down deep in her bones.
“Yes.”
Her heart ached, and she leaned her head against his knee, loving the feel of his hand stroking her hair, and the calm understanding between them. The bond that she’d felt rooting them to each other healed and started to grow strong again.
This was where she was meant to be.
As recently as this morning she’d thought she was over him, but she’d been a damned fool. It was like declaring she could live without oxygen, and holding her breath to prove it. All she’d proven was that she was a fool about him, just like he was about her. That sounded pretty perfect, in the scheme of things. As perfect as people could get, with real lives and real flaws.
“Then yes, Master. I want to be yours, and I’ll proudly wear your collar.”
Ambrose beamed at her and urged her to kneel up. She held her hair up out of his way, and he buckled it around her throat. With a light finger he stroked the skin directly above and below it.
“You’re mine now, Ev. Even when this collar is off, you’ll feel it here around your neck.”
Under his touch, she trembled.
“Tomorrow we’re going to pick out something for you to wear in public, that you’ll never take off.” He leaned down and kissed her sweetly, but left no doubt as to who was in charge of the kiss.
“Yes, Master. If it pleases you.” She grinned up at him.
He pulled her up onto his lap and lay back. She straddled him and kissed him lazily. For a while that satisfied him, but when she wriggled against his groin, and his cock started to stiffen, he grabbed her hips and guided her to grind against his jean-covered erection. When had he zipped his pants back up?
It was rough against her clit, and in no time she was gasping and about to come.
Ambrose shoved his jeans down just far enough to free his cock again, then sank it into her needy pussy. He played with her clit, and slid his fingers around in her wetness, teasing and letting her fuck him at her own speed. One of his hands left off its toying, and a second later he was brushing the slickness he’d collected over her bottom hole. She clenched up and shrieked in surprise, and underneath her he moaned and then chuckled.
“I like this. Both of my hands are free in this position.” His smile was sly. He did it again and got the same reaction. “Do you have any idea how you feel on the inside when you cower away from my touches?”
