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“The opal reminded me of you, all those colors, changing, never just the one thing. The lady at the jewelry store told me the opal actually means change of colors, like changing the way you look at things. Which you did for me. And when I changed the way I looked at relationships, I found you.”
He stopped, cleared his throat again. Put his hand next to the box. Giving her the choice. He’d take it away if she wanted him to do so.
After a few long minutes, she closed the box. She didn’t know how she felt about it, but she did know one thing. She slid the box away from him and put it in her crossbody purse.
She wanted to keep it.
A half-smile managed to curve her lips as he let out the breath he’d been holding. But she reached out and gripped his shirt, stopping him from doing anything else for a minute. After a weighted dozen beats of her heart, she signed the words that had been in her heart for a while. Afraid to be spoken, in any language available to her.
His hand closed over hers, and he dipped his head, detaching her from his shirt so he could press his lips to her knuckles. He signed it back, while still holding her hand. Then he spoke it aloud.
“I love you, too, Skye. More than anything in the fucking world.”
He drove her to her place. She opened up the garage so he could put his bike in there, a confirmation that she wanted him to stay.
As they entered the loft from the stairwell door, she came to a stop. The room was dark, except for a spotlight on a small table that had been placed near the entry. A bouquet of flowers was on it, along with a remote control and a card.
We did this because he’s yours now. In every way that matters.
No signature, just a purple rose stamped beneath the words. Telling her it was from Ros, Vera, Cyn and Abby.
As Tiger read it over her shoulder, she looked up at him with the question. He shook his head. “What I gave you was between you and me, Mistress.”
Ros and the others hadn’t needed to be told. They’d already known, with that exceptional intuition they possessed. Even before Ros had said straight out that Lawrence was it, the rest of them had known. When Neil had proposed to Abby, they’d all been present as witnesses, sure it was meant to be.
Skye wasn’t into making an announcement like Ros, and she didn’t know what she felt about marriage. As Mistress and sub, she and Tiger were on safer, more familiar ground. But her sisters understood her silence the way Tiger was learning to do, the nature of their relationship meaning he had found his way onto ground even they hadn’t reached.
And with the surprise they’d left her here, they’d given her their blessing.
Because of their shared past, and how closely they embraced their Domme side, that blessing had a different shape from a bridesmaid toast. It was a validation, a claim and an assurance, all in one. Both for the man and the Mistress who’d decided he was the one she wanted to keep.
It also contained a warning, against anyone who would threaten or disrupt what Mistress and sub promised one another. The TRA women would be part of her defense, to eradicate the threat. Stand against its influence and remindand verify what the two of them were to one another, so they themselves never doubted it.
Skye picked up the remote and opened the page folded beneath it, scanning the intriguing step-by-step instructions.
Press green button first.
As she pressed it, an oscillating projection ball attached to her center light fixture came to life. It cast a moving mural of shapes along an expanse of solid black curtains covering her bank of windows. It was a man and woman, moving in the various dances of Mistress and sub. Him on his knees to her, kissing her foot as she stood in a hip-cocked stance, stilettos braced. Her throwing a whip as he was restrained on a cross, cock fully erect, seemingly longing for the touch of the lash. Him kissing her hands before she put them on his face and they began to turn in an actual dance, her skirt flowing out.
The images flowed in a direction drawing the eye toward the unfinished “dungeon room.” When she’d left, it had still been cordoned off by the rubber strip construction curtains. No more.
A free-standing wall screened it now. A door-sized space between the windowed loft wall and the newly constructed one made it look as if the flowing images disappeared into the room beyond it.
Her sectional sofa was against the new wall, several of her paintings in an attractive arrangement above it. Since the wall only went two-thirds of the way to the ceiling, purple string lights were draped over its top edge. Width-wise, the wall ended at the mid-point of the loft space, terminating at one of the brick pillars that braced the ceiling over her open living quarters. It left the right-hand view to her platform bed open.
The wall had been to formalize the space behind it, not to enclose it. The brick pillar had a neon sign mounted on it, the words stacked in a tantalizing pink glow.Love. Cherish. Kneel. Serve.
With her hand in Tiger’s, Skye circled around the pillar and sign to view the room beyond. Once there, she paused, gripped by a wealth of emotions.
“Damn,” Tiger murmured.
She agreed. Her sisters knew her well. It was everything she could want in a play space.
There was a webcam for her to watch him, if she chose to step out of his view, leaving him wondering and anticipating. A mounted screen meant no matter where Tiger was in the room, restrained or otherwise, he could see what she wanted. She could sync it from any monitor or device.Lie down. Spread your legs. Wait for me.
But the crowning piece of the room was a spanking bench that looked like a motorcycle. Instead of legs, it had silver and black fixed wheels. The bench’s seat was a Sybian stimulator, complete with attachment options. Useful for a male or female rider.
A half-dozen riding “gloves” were draped over the silver handlebars. Vampire gloves, velvet gloves, waterproof gloves. Plus starlet satin elbow-length gloves. As they approached the bench, Tiger picked them up.
