Still, maybe there was hope. He refrained from smiling as her fingers massaged his scalp idly, the way he used to do with her when their roles were reversed. He’d spent hours like this, in the same companionable silence, using the time to strengthen the bond between them with just a quiet touch.
Whatever happened next, he needed to stick with his decision and ride the wave of her anger. If he tried to take command, if he made the wrong move, there was no doubt in his mind that she would flit away into the night like a shooting star, gone in a blink.
For now… well, he was completely under her spell.
Violet
They stayed on the couch for over an hour.
Personally, she blamed her own tiredness for the lapse in judgement, and her own weakness for allowing him to get under her skin again. Aftercare wasn’t something she stepped out on unless the sub demanded alone time after a scene—a rarity, but it did happen. Some just seemed to handle the overload of emotion better on their own, although she did assign someone to watch over them in case of subdrop.
Discreetly, of course.
Sitting quietly on the couch, contemplating her life from the time Boudreaux reentered it, stroking his hair and reminiscing about the days when it was her head on his lap, his hand toying lazily with her hair as her system settled from the ultimate high… it affected her in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
There was a hole inside her—a gaping, ragged wound where he’d torn her heart thoughtlessly from her chest—that hadn’t even started the healing process since that horrible day. Maybe the endless bleeding had stopped, but the wound remained.
Giving him the kind of aftercare she usually only offered to subs she cared about on a deeper level, the kind where heremotions were stirred, wasn’t an instant cure-all but the hole felt less… raw around the edges.
Was it the aftercare or the scene?
Hmmm, that was something to consider.
When Boudreaux yawned and began to stir, Violet resisted the urge to shove his head off the pillow and smother him with it. Forgiveness was not now or ever on the table when it came to him; she wasn’t heartless, but forgiving him meant opening herself on levels she wasn’t prepared to survive.
Keeping that in mind, she slipped out from under him, leaving the pillow and his head on the couch, then rose and set her hands on her hips. The blanket covered his shoulders, leaving his chest exposed. Flogger marks littered his skin in shades of pink and red, but she hadn’t done any lasting damage; there wasn’t so much as a nick.
She waited until he opened his eyes. “Do you need any pain relief?”
As elegant as ever despite the stiffness of his muscles, Boudreaux sat up and stretched out his arms like he was waking from the longest sleep. “I’m good. I think.”
“I’ll put some coffee on then.”
He struggled to stand, the blanket curling around his bare calf. “I can do that, Mistress.”
Violet held her palm up. “Go to the guest bedroom and get dressed. Seeing as the contract started this morning, I imagine Evander has already supervised the transfer of your personal possessions from your cabin to mine.”
He sighed deeply. “Can we at least talk like civilized adults over coffee if I get dressed?”
“Thisisme being a civilized adult, Boudreaux. Take a shower if you want one; the general layout of the cabins are the same.” In other words, she thought, find your own damn way to the bathroom. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat, Mistress.”
God, she hated that he called her that without any discomfort at all. Instead, it just flowed appropriately off his devil’s tongue at the right time, with the perfect inflection.
The easiest option for food was the restaurant, but there was no way in hell she was dragging this ridiculous façade into public and opening it to speculation and gossip. As a Mistress of Serenity, she’d nurtured her reputation carefully—no full-time submissives, definitely not a live-in one, and her time, attention, and favoritism was bestowed upon all.
While there were clients she preferred playing with for one reason or another, in her mind, she was at the club to perform her duties and cater to everyone who requested her skills. She demanded that all her clients schedule appointments through the front desk; she didn’t slide anyone in or cut scenes short to make space for special individuals.
This clusterfuck was going to cause her a great deal of irritation professionally, not to mention personally pissing her off worse than a honey badger caught in a trap. Some of her clients might not mind being reallocated to a different Mistress for their stay, but most of them came specifically to seeher.They knew her rules and abided by them, so when they found out about Boudreaux literally monopolizing her entire schedule for a month…
Violet wondered if Evander understood what he’d set in motion when agreeing to Boudreaux’s request. The man wasn’t stupid, but she knew how frustrating, how fucking infuriating it was to be expected to play by the rules only for someone to flaunt breaking them without consequences.
She jerked her chin toward the door. “I’ll take care of the food. Get cleaned up.”
Those beautiful eyes sparked with mischief as he let the blanket dangle in one hand, then shook it out and wrapped itaround his lower half again, leaving the tattoo dedicated to her on full display. Slowly, surely, with no trace of lingering fatigue, he padded over to her until she was forced to tip her head back to maintain eye contact.
She tilted her head to the side as he leaned down, avoiding what she assumed would be a kiss, but instead his lips skimmed the shell of her ear. Warm breath caressed her skin as he whispered, “Submitting to you is hot as fuck, Mistress, but don’t get used to it. I’ll obey your orders, crawl on all fours, take whatever punishment you need to give, but in the end… you and I will stand together as we’re meant to be, equals in all things.”
