“Of course.” He narrows his eyes, his expression warming marginally.
“And gentle?”
His jaw flexes, and those gorgeous chocolate-coloured eyes gleam, like hard, polished mahogany. He cups my chin in his free hand. His fingertips trace a light pattern across my cheek. “I’ll never treat you roughly. I’ll never push you around or use any form of force. And I’ll never do anything to you without your consent. Will that do?”
I close my eyes as I tilt my face into his caress, uncaring about the discomfort in my scalp as his grip does not yield so much as a fraction. It’s not easy to remain focused as he takes over my senses.
“Yes. But even with all that, what if it’s too much?”
“It will never be too much. You’ll have safe words, but I hope you never feel the need to use them. I’ve had a lot of practice at this. I pay attention as a dom, and I tend to know when a sub’s had enough. You will learn to trust me.”
It’s the reference to his previous experience that brings my final, perhaps my only real demand into sharp focus. I draw in a breath. I have to tell him what I want, demand what matters most to me. This promise is what will set me apart from Caroline, and perhaps from all those other subs.
Ewan sees my hesitation. His eyes narrow again as he searches my features. “Go on.”
“From now on, it has to be only me. No other subs. I need you to promise me that.”
He lifts one eyebrow, seemingly surprised at this request. “Of course. I thought I’d made that clear, but if you need me to spell it out I will. I love you. Only you.We’re exclusive unless we both agree otherwise. Right?”
That is not quite the answer I was looking for, and I’m not convinced. “What do you mean,bothagree otherwise? I don’t understand…”
“You will, in time. But you have my absolute word that there will be no other submissives. Is that acceptable to you?”
I meet and hold his gaze. “Yes.”
He cocks his head to one side. “I think you mean ‘Yes, sir.’”
“I apologise. Yes, sir.”
He releases his grip on my hair. Rather than relief though, my reaction is more one of abandonment. I want his hands on me, however he chooses to do that.
“Good. You learn fast. Your bottom will benefit greatly from that quality in the months to come. Now, do you have any further questions for me?”
“No, sir. At least, not right at this moment.”
“In that case I’d like you to go to my room, strip, and kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed. Take the cuffs and crop with you, please. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The items in question are still in my hands. I stare at him. I knew this was coming, knew he would be using the crop on me this evening. Even so, the reality of it, the here and now of it, is daunting. Ewan steps away from me, back to the window. He resumes the position he was in when I entered the room, a lifetime ago.
He waits for ten, perhaps twenty seconds, then, “Faith, why are you still here?”
“Sorry. Sorry, sir.” I turn and scurry back out onto the landing.
* * *
In Ewan’s room I leave the door ajar and drop the crop and the cuffs onto the duvet cover before going over to the window to close the curtains. This is going to be hardenough; no need to be sharing the fun with the neighbours.
I look around me at the familiar furniture, the bits and pieces I’ve come to know well. I sleep in this room more often than in my own these days. My belongings are scattered on the dressing table, a bottle of perfume, earrings. A pair of my shoes is under the bed. I recall Caroline’s possessions, left behind in her room, and I find reassurance in that. I’m here, this is my space. No ghosts.
I make that two pairs of shoes discarded on the floor as I start to undress. I take my time, comfortable in the knowledge that he will know when I am ready. I won’t always be able to set the pace but on this first occasion… probably. I remove my blouse and jeans and fold those with care. I place them on a chair, and drop my underwear on top of the pile. Naked, I pick up the cuffs, wondering if I should put them on. Ewan gave me no such instructions so I place them back alongside the crop. I turn to face the door and drop to my knees.
Perhaps five minutes pass before Ewan comes into the room. He pushes the door open, steps inside, and closes it behind him with a gentle click. He leans back on it, watches me for several seconds.
“You are one seriously lovely woman, Faith. Have I mentioned that to you?”
I start to shake my head, uncertain if a response is required or not. Ewan steps forward to stand right in front of me. I tilt my head back to look up at him as he towers over me.
“I think I have, but I’ll let your lapse of memory go on this occasion. Tell me, Faith, how do you feel?”
