BeforemyMaster takes over.
Because it’s been nearly seven months since I made what admittedly was the worst decision of my life.
Now, I want Sir to make it all better for me.
His gaze narrows and he leans closer. “Still feeling mouthy?”
I manage a laugh. “Always.”
Apparently, I have no sense of self-preservation when it comes to baiting Leo’s sadist to the surface. It was always a fun pasttime for me.
Leo smiles, but there’s no humor in it.
Whoops.
I was wrong about having to bait him.
Thisisthe sadist.
The fist in my hair tightens, painfully so. He wrenches my head back even farther and bringing a prickle of tears to my eyes as his teeth graze the front of my throat, right over my collar, before he nips me there.
Inside my soul, that part of me which had been curled up in a tight little ball and in hiding ever since I departed DC for Florida finally sits up, shamelesslybegslike a drunk and horny slut, and rolls over to show my belly to the man.
He bites down on the side of my throat. “Whodo youfuckingbelong to, Jordan?” he growls around my flesh in his teeth.
An answer burps from the darkest depths of my soul. “You, Daddy,” I gasp.
We both freeze. I never called him that before, but it feels so damnedright.
The sadist chuckles even as the fist in my hair disappears and he licks the spot he just bit. Then he wraps his arms tightly around me, tucking my head under his chin as he slowly rocks me back and forth and tries to soothe me.
Tells me over and over how much he loves me.
That’s when I realize I’m crying.
Sobbing.
I…I have no idea when I started doing that, but apparently, it’s been a few minutes. My glasses have also magically disappeared and I don’t know when he took them off me.
“Yes,” he whispers as he turns and lies on the sofa with me, still holding me. One hand massages the back of my head, rubbing away the memory of the sting of his previous grip.
“Daddy’s got you, baby boy. Never letting you go again, either. I’m so,sofucking proud of you. I’m sorry I didn’t put my foot down and refuse to let you leave. I should have. I wasn’t abandoning you. I thought you needed the space to clear your head. I felt sure you’d talk to me after a few weeks and then we could discuss this, and I could talk you into coming back at the end of the semester or something. I didn’t want to push or smother you because I was afraid it’d drive you father away. Then you went quiet, and I was even more scared to push you for fear of you pushing me away forever.”
I cling to him as I cry. I’m drowning in the deluge of sewage finally spewing forth as a result of him lancing my emotional wound and letting it drain. He holds me, comforts me.
Seesme.
But he’s not done.
“I swear I thought about you every single day,” he whispers. “You were on my mind first thing every morning and last thing before I went to sleep. I worried about you and hoped you were safe and happy. I was terrified I’d never speak to you again. I was going to take a weekend off after I returned from the trip and fly down there again to see you, but you kind of beat me to it by being here.”
He rubs his chin against the top of my head. The months of pain and grief and loss slowly drain from me. Belatedly, I realize I’m probably snot-sobbing all over his shirt and blazer, and when I move to sit up, he doesn’t let me.
“Not yet,” he softly says. “I’m not ready to let go of you yet, baby boy.” He sighs. “Ijustgot you back. I can’t let you go.Please, don’t make me let you go.”
Like that, every vestige of resistance and anger and pain…evaporates.
I’ll lie here all day and night with him, if he wants me to.
