Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Next time I’d like you to tell me.” His strong hand wraps around my thigh. “Poor Damon was standing outside of the door not knowing what to do with himself.”
Surprised, I turn to face Zander, who grins at my shock.
“No he wasn’t.”
He laughs slightly, his broad chest shaking as he does. He nods and tells me, “He was.”
Brushing at my knee, I stare at the thick accent rug, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean to make him worry.”
“We can’t help but worry,” he tells me. His thumb runs along my cheek, as if he’s brushing away tears that no longer exist. “I want to be here for you. Don’t deprive me of that, my little bird.”
My heart thumps, loud and heavy. Refusing to go unnoticed. Three words nearly slip from my lips, reckless and nothing but raw emotion. The moment I catch them, I swallow them down. I haven’t forgotten Damon’s comment about displacing my feelings.
Zander stands slowly, holding his hand out for me. “Come.” He towers over me.
There’s a question that lingers, that begs to be spoken. Asking if we’ll ever be more. With my small hand in his, I consider asking him, letting it out and seeing where the chips may fall.
“You did well today. I’m proud of you,” he tells me. Like a Dom speaks to his submissive. Matter of fact.
“Thank you,” I whisper and the chill of the room creeps over my shoulders.
The question goes unasked. We’ve both already loved. I’ll never be the woman he met in the bar who made him laugh. And he’ll never be the man who wanted me so desperately that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He’s only my Dom. And to him, I am only his submissive.
It’s only when we’re leaving, the bag and rumpled rugby shirt staying where they are, that I notice the rain has stopped.
Zander
Ella’s doing well. The sessions with Damon, the new coping habits—all of it is everything I could have hoped for when The Firm took over her care. But something makes me suspicious. Like it’s going too well.
Like she might be hiding something, or burying something. Separating from me in a way I don’t like. But then, of course, that’s the whole point. That Ella will grow to a place where she doesn’t need any of us anymore.
Except … I want her to need me. The way I’m coming to need her. Or maybe it’s only a powerful desire.
I am so fucking conflicted with her. She’s still grieving and I have no idea what she truly wants. A Dom or more. Let alone what she’s capable of committing to once her life goes back to what it was.
We’re in her sitting room in the middle of all that blue, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. Ella is curled into a chair with a book on her lap, and all I can do is sit here and stare at her. Marveling at her progress but hesitant to let my guard down.
It’s a cold, dreary day. We could spend days like this in a hundred different ways. Like in my dungeon, for instance. I want to show it to her, but I don’t know if she’d approve.
It’s one thing to have this relationship in the comfort of her home. It’s another to pluck her away and toy with her like I truly want to do.
I don’t know if it would meet her standards. Ella’s house is a testament to her wealth. She’s swimming in it. Drowning in it. Would she even accept the lifestyle I want? I don’t realize I’ve started looking out the window at the thrashing trees until she speaks.
“Z?”
“Yeah?”
A hint of worry in her dark eyes. “Would you hold me?”
I open my arms to her, and she drops the book to come to me. Her only stop is by the fireplace to hit the switch. It springs to life in the grate, filling the space with orange flames, and Ella crawls into my lap. It’ll be winter soon. The snow will blanket us in. It’s different from my place in Pennsylvania. Everything is different here, and I’m not sure how the two worlds fit together. I’m not sure if they can.
It’s all going well, but can this be sustained?
Ella rests her head on my shoulder, and I tuck a blanket around her on my lap. There. This is the way to sit in silence together. With her so close I can feel her heat.
Hypothetically, how would I live without her? I can’t exactly picture her in my house in lower Pennsylvania. It’s significantly smaller than her place. Substantially less in nearly every way and I have never wanted to live in a home that feels … expansive and impersonal. My home doesn’t have a separate sitting room and a rec room and an enormous backyard. It doesn’t come with gardening staff and people to take out the flower beds if you want them redone. Ella lives in a world surrounded by people to support her, care for her, and work for her. It would just be me in Pennsylvania. I don’t have any desire for this life.