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“Do you remember the first night of class, when you told me that you watched BDSM porn?” A low chuckle escaped my throat when her eyes widened in horrific embarrassment. “You also mentioned bondage.”
“I-I did?!” she exclaimed, dropping her gaze to her feet and giggling. “Oh God.”
I gently took her chin between my fingers and lifted. “Did it meet your expectations?”
She thought about it for a moment, and then her lips curled into a smile. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
And then she wrapped her arms around my torso and hugged me. I stiffened because while we had been intimate before in the bathtub, nothing compared to this.
It seemed like she felt safe and secure in my arms, in my classroom, and as my sub.
No matter how far I pushed her, no matter how close to her boundaries I came, she knew that I would protect her at all costs. That I wouldn’t let anything happen to her even if she had no control.
“Thank you,” she whispered, placing her head on the center of my chest. “It was amazing.”
Before she could pull away, I wrapped my arms around her body and relaxed. “Of course, love,” I murmured, leading Sierra to the bedroom.
She fell asleep quickly and with ease, but I stayed up, staring at the ceiling.
Unable to sleep.
So, I slipped into my home office and unlocked my desk drawer. After pulling out a stack of papers, I set them on the desk and stared down at the BDSM contract that I’d had a lawyer draft between us.
Heart racing, I sat down and read through it three more times. I had never offered anybody a contract like this before. Hell, I had never even thought about offering any woman a contract like this.
But what if she didn’t want it? What if she would rather keep things the way they were? What if I gave her this contract tomorrow and she rejected it, laughed in my face, and told me that nobody would ever sign anything like this from me? Like so many foster families had told me that I wasn’t good enough, that nobody would want me.
After squeezing my eyes closed, I forced out a breath. Sierra wouldn’t do that, but it still worried me because there was always a chance for anything to happen. If I didn’t allow myself to be vulnerable, then I couldn’t be hurt.
A knock came at my door, and I snapped my gaze up to see Thornton.
“I thought you left hours ago,” I said.
“Finishing preparations for tomorrow’s dinner,” he said, glancing over his shoulder and toward the living room, a low chuckle escaping his mouth. “And Brigitta stayed behind to deep-clean the kitchen after I greased it up.”
Why couldn’t I enjoy love like that? Why couldn’t it be as easy for me as it was for them? I had been dirt poor, traded from family to family to family, and now, I was worth a billion dollars. I’d thought money would change everything. But still, I always felt the same—terrified to be happy.
“Enjoy your night with Brigitta. She’s a lucky girl.”
“So is Sierra.” Thornton paused. “I haven’t seen you this excited for Christmas in years.”
A low chuckle escaped my throat. “Do these stress lines make me look excited?”
He glanced down at the contract on my desk. “I think you’re stressing yourself out because when you’re with Sierra …” He paused for a moment, his lips curling into a small smile. “You look like you’re at peace.”
At peace? Is that what Sierra does to me? Am I really the one who stressed myself out?
“Merry Christmas,” Thornton said, pushing himself off the door. “And, Mr. Patton …”
“Yes?”
“You deserve to be happy.”
With that, he disappeared into the hallway, his footsteps leading away from my office. I stared at the empty doorway and frowned. Do I really deserve to be happy? After all these years, after all the families who returned me, am I worth it?
Worthy of happiness? Worthy of love?
