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Our stare is complicated, intense.
“Would you prefer for me to stop using the word pet?” he asks, the tension in the room becoming much lighter. I blink up at him, startled by his question. “You had been so against it when we first had met, yet now, you don’t even bat an eye.”
“I don’t mind it.”
His jaw twitches, and his shoulders tense. “Why?”
“Because that’s all I am to you. Your pet.”
“Sasha,” he says, his face softening. He steps forward, hesitating before he lightly brushes his fingertips against my cheek. “What’s happening to you?”
He shakes his head, and turns his back to me.
“Did I do something?” I ask. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Go take a shower while I finish eating.”
Once again, he’s uninviting, guarded. Without wasting another second, I do exactly as I’m told, leaving the playroom in silence.
* * *
The water feelsincredible as it trails down my skin, easing every sore muscle. After I’ve spent far too long enjoying the warmth, I dress into a silky white nightgown, and find myself wanting to sleep. What I had experienced in his playroom has left me drained, ready to take in the feeling of the blankets wrapped tightly around my body.
As I make my way down the long, spiraling staircase, I can’t seem to find Jaxon anywhere. Although, the sliding glass door is wide open.
Stepping through the doorway and out into the darkness, Jaxon appears to be staring up at the sky full of stars.
“Excuse me,” I speak up, as he turns to acknowledge my presence.
“Yes?” His tone is monotone, flat.
“I was wondering if you need me for anything, Master,” I say, my voice trailing off. “Or if I can go to sleep now—”
“—Jaxon.”
The moonlight makes his skin shimmer, and his eyes gleam. Suddenly, I realize what he has just said, drawing a blank.
“What?” I murmur.
“Jaxon. It’s Jaxon,” he corrects me, running his hand through his hair. “No, you know what, address me as whatever you’d like. I truly don’t care.”
Trying to process what he’s just said, I shrug my shoulders. “Master just feels easy, more comfortable.”
“More comfortable?” he snarls, striding toward me. “What are you talking about? Calling me Master makes you feel more comfortable now?”
“Yes.”
“Where is this coming from?” Jaxon is demanding, on edge, his face mere inches from mine. His eyes are beaming, enraged, catching me off guard.
I frown. “I’m giving you honesty.”
“No, what you’re giving me is complete shit!” He snaps, and I flinch. Staring up at him helplessly, I remain silent. “You know what, fine. Master is fine. Call me whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Actually, just go to bed. That is what you want from me, right? My permission to fucking sleep?”
“Yes.”
He searches my eyes with his, gazing at me compassionately, yet with disgust at the same time. Pressing his lips into a firm, straight line, he swiftly turns on his heel, and heads further into the darkness.
“What do you want from me?” My voice comes out unsteady, confused.
