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She laughs as she drops her hands to her sides and catches her breath. After I’ve zipped myself back up, I rush into the bathroom and come back with a wet paper towel. I use it to clean her up before putting her panties back on and lifting her up to place a kiss on her mouth.
“Let’s go get some lunch, and then afterward, we can do your idea,” she says sweetly.
“Sounds like a plan,” I reply as I kiss her again.
She excuses herself to the bathroom, and I drop back into my office chair. When I hear a buzzing from the floor, I reach down and brush some papers away to find my phone waiting for me.
I’m pierced with anxiety as I read: New Message from Eden
Swallowing my shame, I swipe it open.
I’m taking Jack to the arcade on 5th Street tonight. He’s been asking to see you. You should come.
It takes my slow brain a while to comprehend who Jackis.
Her son.
Eden is texting me about her son.
I literally thought she wanted to see me, and I was ready to do what? Fuck her if that’s what she wanted.
No. I wouldn’t have done that. Would I?
I’m not that guy. Or am I?
“Ready?” a sweet voice chirps from the doorway.
I wipe the grim expression off my face and smile up at her. “Ready, my nasty girl.”
She smiles, blushing as she reaches a hand out toward me. I take it and press my lips to her knuckles.
“The sooner we eat, the sooner we can get back here and dirty up every room in this place.”
I drape my arm over her shoulders and press my lips to her head. “Then let’s hurry.”
As we make our way out to the car, I think about that text and the control that woman has over me. I may have thought about doing something, but I didn’t.
This means I have a chance to do things right by Jade, and it’s a chance I don’t plan on wasting.
* * *
“Do you understand why I made you do that?” she asks as we’re both sitting on her couch during the aftercare portion of tonight’s session. She makes me do this every time. In the last fifteen minutes or so, we have to unwind together, and she forces me to eat something and drink water. It makes me feel like a child, and I hate it.
I do love how much she touches me during this part, though. Stroking my back or holding my hand. I crave it more than sex.
“No, Madame,” I reply, lying back so my head is in her lap.
She runs her fingers through my hair. “Don’t you think you deserved it?”
I hesitate for a moment. “No. I didn’t do anything.”
“You obeyed me. You’ve done as I told you to for weeks. Does it make you uncomfortable for me to watch you rewarding yourself?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“You’re not kind enough to yourself, pet. I notice the way you don’t like to receive rewards. You think you don’t deserve it or that you’re not good enough. I can tell. But you’re mine, aren’t you?”
I have to force myself to swallow. Her words ring with truth, but it’s the kind of truth we keep hidden and don’t talk about. The ugly, embarrassing truth.
