“Mara, of course I love you.”
She cocked her head back then stood and began to pace. “Oh, it’s so convenient and easy for you to say it now. Where were you when you were yelling at me for saying it in Denver? Where were you when I was giving you every little thing you need to feel fulfilled, Jack? Where was ‘I love you’ then?”
I put my hands out. “I know I should have said it. I know. I haven’t been fair.”
“None of this is fair! You make up some bullshit fight, you keep covering lies in lies, and then you suddenly out of the blue claim to love me, just so I’ll move with you across the country! Jack, I just got into the doctor I need. The whole point of us being married was for me to get healthcare and for you to get childcare.”
“And because I love you,” I tried.
She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Mara, I did something really bad but I can’t tell you what it is.”
She rolled her eyes and gave me the nastiest look. “Wow, he loves me but he has to keep a secret! You keep finding ways to make it worse, Jack. I’m not sure how you do it.”
“I do love you. So fucking much. I just,” I started getting hysterical. “I fucked up, Mara.”
“It’s too late. I’m sick of the lies. I’m sick of things being convenient for you. Go on to Ohio alone. That’s what you’ve earned, Jack. I’ll have Sydney send your kids every other week.”
Fuck. I hadn’t even given much thought to the custody situation. This could get ugly. Fuck.
“Mara, please,” I whimpered. “I love you.”
“Again,” she bit out, “I. Don’t. Believe. You.”
“Peg me.”
Mara stilled, not even breathing. She pinched her eyes shut. “What.”
“Peg me. It’s me giving myself up to you. Hurt me, Mara. Do anything you want to me. You have it all now. You have my heart, my body, every part of me. Now you can take my ass. It will prove I love you.”
Mara’s jaw tightened. “Get upstairs.”
FIFTY-THREE
MARA
MARCH
“Get your collar on,take off your clothes, and kneel,” I growled as I entered our bedroom.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I went into the closet and pulled out the equipment. We’d slowly been amassing different tools for impact play. I pulled out the flogger and the riding crop. I was so spitting mad at Jack that the thought of making him hurt so bad but not letting him scream?—
I was getting carried away. I put on the bra I bought to match the strap-on, arranging everything and stalking back into the bedroom with the flogger, crop, and a bottle of lube.
“Crawl to me,” I commanded.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jack said, slinking my way before kneeling at my feet.
“Kiss my feet.”
Jack looked up to meet my eyes, truly contrite before kissing the top of each foot.
“Get up and go bend over the bed. How many strikes do you think you should get?”
“As many as you think, ma’am,” Jack said, his voice so sad.
