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After a few minutes, he rewarded her by picking her up and carrying her to the closet where he reached onto the top shelf and extracted a box. Her gift.
He’d maybe purchased it months ago, right after they’d returned from Thistledon. But it hadn’t felt quite right to give it to her then. He’d worried she wouldn’t believe him, that it was a gesture of panic and not a reflection of what he knew deep in his bones and would feel in his marrow until the day he died. Well, that had been months ago and the cheeky shop owner had given him a hard time, but now he could stop hiding it, and it could be hers.
Ryker could say he hoped it would be nothing more than a physical manifestation of the devotion he’d proved since then, but it would be more. For him, at least, and hopefully for her too. While he didn’t say the words hardly ever—because what was the point of that, really?—he felt them all the time, and he hoped this would be a way to deepen their relationship in the way they perhaps understood the best.
He sat Cosima down on the floor and lowered himself after. They both enjoyed it when she was at his feet but it didn’t feel right for this moment. Selfishly, he wanted to be able to see every second and every inch of her expression so he could imprint it in his brain forever.
“For you,” he said, nudging the box toward her. “Open it.”
* * *
Cosima
Sir never gave her presents. So many intangible gifts, yes, but not actual, physical presents. Not like Daddy and Papa who showered her with trinkets and clothes and anything a girl could possibly want all the time. She didn’t mind at all—she had more than plenty—but she did love presents from Sir. It must be really important.
She almost felt bad untying the perfect white satin bow on top of the box, but she wouldn’t disobey. Same with unwrapping the mint green wrapping paper with unicorns all over it. The things he did for her despite it not being to his taste blew her mind sometimes. He loved her so, so much.
The white box looked familiar and she tipped her head. Had he—
She maybe tossed the lid over her shoulder and flung the pink and green tissue paper so she could confirm but yes.Yes.
Cosima wasn’t quite such a waterworks anymore, but she burst into tears when she lifted the leather circle out of the box. Which was annoying because it meant she couldn’t see it clearly. But she knew what it was. Did she ever.
Sir had given her a collar.
She wouldn’t have cared if it matched her beautiful cuffs he’d given her for her birthday but she knew it did. And oh, her heart.
Unless they were in a scene and he’d instructed her not to touch him, she was free to whenever she felt like it. But she didn’t often since she suspected that Daddy and Papa had lobbied for that particular understanding and it wouldn’t have been of Sir’s choosing. Now she couldn’t help herself though.
Collar still in her hand, she launched herself at Sir, knocking him onto his back when she’d only meant to give him a hug. A big hug, yes, but not like a tackle hug. She would never do that on purpose. And clearly he hadn’t been expecting it, because there was no way she could’ve moved him if he didn’t want to be moved.
But her Sir didn’t scold her or roll her off. No, he wrapped his crazy strong arms around her and held her tight against him while she sobbed into his neck.
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you so, so much. I love it. Thank you.”
His deep, rumbling “You’re welcome,” sounded in her ears and rolled through her chest too. No wonder Sir didn’t give her presents very often when she was such a huge disaster when he did. To his credit, he let cry for a while before saying, “Let’s sit you up so I can put it on.”
She would have eagerly done it herself but no, Sir rolled them both to seated and kept her straddling his lap as he took the collar from her.
Sir’s dark brows gathered as he looked at the collar in his hands. What was he thinking? Hopefully not having regrets, but she didn’t think that was it. Because Daddy had been right about that. Once he was committed, Sir wascommitted. Like you could trample him with wild horses, torture or try to bribe him in any way imaginable and that man would not budge. Loyal and true to his very core, that was her Sir.
When he locked eyes with her, his grey diamond irises boring into her, he spoke.
“You belong to me always but I’m not going to lock this because you belong to your daddy and your papa too. It wouldn’t be right. But for our time together, and anytime you need it, there’s this.”
He reached into the box that was still on the floor behind her, and she was momentarily abashed that she’d been so overwhelmed by the collar she hadn’t even thought to look for more. But Sir didn’t seem to care, just showed her what he’d retrieved.
A small heart-shaped padlock. She couldn’t tell what kind of metal it was but it didn’t matter. It was beautiful and wonderful and she would’ve loved it if it had come out of a cereal box. But of course Sir cared.
“Platinum,” he said, as he shifted her to face away from him, still on his lap. “Doesn’t rust, doesn’t corrode, hypoallergenic, and heavier than titanium. More precious too.”
Oh no, she was going to start crying again, wasn’t she? His few and far between gruff words always managed to stab her straight through the heart. He probably didn’t even mean to, was just stating facts. But how carefully he thought about all these things, about her, made her ache.
She felt breathless when he circled the black leather with its pretty lace design that revealed the pink leather underneath around her neck and buckled it, slipping a finger between her throat and the collar to make sure it wasn’t too tight. And she felt high as a kite when she heard the click of him fastening the lock. Could’ve swooned, could’ve died. Didn’t though. And was rewarded by Sir hooking his chin over her shoulder and circling his hand over the leather at her throat, murmuring to her.
“There are six keys. I have one, your daddy and papa each have one, there’s one in your playroom, and there’s one in the club. I gave one to Eric too for safekeeping.”
Cosima sighed the happiest of sighs and allowed herself to slump against him as well as she could with his grip on her neck. He was so thoughtful and careful, her sir. How had she gotten so lucky?
