“Let’s get you loose,” he said. He unfastened the leg cuffs, and his powerful hands massaged the muscles around her hips as he straightened her legs. A second later, he straddled her and dug those strong fingers into her aching shoulder joints. She yelped as pain zipped through her, then eased, disappearing entirely.
She stared up at him, watching him concentrate. When he stopped, her shoulders hummed with warmth.
“Better?” His eyes met hers, shadowy in the moonlight yet still a punch to the system.
Odd how she didn’t feel nearly as alone, as distant, as she usually did after sex. “Thank you. How did you know…?”
“That you hurt?” He rolled her onto her stomach and dug his thumbs into the tense muscles in her lower back. “The way you moved, experience from years of tying up subs, and a few times being tied myself.”
“You?”
“Not long after I started topping, I asked a friend, a domme, to give me a taste of what it feels like to submit.”
“Did you like it?”
“Not in the least. But I do know what bondage can do to muscles.” He ruffled her hair. “Time to get up, sprite. I need to check on my students.”
She wiggled a little, then sighed. “Okay.”
“Try again,” he said in a cold voice.
She heard the snort of laughter and had a second of pleasure before he slapped right on the already sore area of her bottom. She scowled at him and won herself another slap. Dammit. Maybe she didn’t like him after all.
He smiled at her, running his finger down her cheek. “We’re new to each other, and testing is inevitable. You might save yourself some pain if you realize that I try to be consistent with my requirements. Respect and obedience, Kalinda.”
Her butt hurt enough that her reply was sullen. “Yes, Sir.”
“I’m fairly easygoing, sugar. There are some doms who would expect you to say, ‘Whatever Master wishes,’ no matter what, whether it was beating the hell out of you or giving you to his friends.”
Ugh. Way further than she wanted to go. She rubbed her cheek against his hand and couldn’t figure out why being with him could feel so right, so rewarding. He’d just swatted her butt as if she were a kid, for God’s sake.
And yet…it did feel right, as if there was a sanctuary for her-just her-when he held her.
He kissed her cheek, then rose. After putting on his shirt, he pulled her up. He handed her the blanket and picked up his bag, then guided her back to the fire. She bit her lip, her feet slowing. Would he want her to sleep in his tent?
She took a step toward her clothing, still in a pile by the tents, and he stopped her. Taking her wrists, he snicked her cuffs together behind her back. She stared up at him, and his eyes crinkled. “The moon will set soon, but it’d be a shame to waste all this nice firelight, don’t you think?”
Her body seemed to spring to life, and she blurted, “There’s more…? Are…?” She stopped before more than the faintest disapproval crossed his face. “Yes,
“That sounded very nice.” He pulled a black piece of material out of his pack. Uneasiness ran through her when he held it up with the ribbons dangling from the sides. A blindfold.
He fitted it over her face, tied it snugly, and sat her on the log. “Enjoy the darkness for a minute until I return.”
Another sliver of insecurity slid across her nerves. “You won’t leave me?”
“Hey.” His hands closed on her face, ever so gently. “I’m not going anywhere, sprite. I’ll be right across the clearing talking to Andrew and Steve. I want you to simply sit here and wait. Can you do that for me?”
She heard his footsteps walking away. The low buzz of conversation grew fainter. Had he left? No, he wouldn’t. She knew that. He… Doubt crept into her, eating away her certainty like ice eroding a mountain, crack by crack.
Apprehension kept tensing the muscles Jake had massaged, until her body ached. She tipped her head to listen, but her pounding pulse drowned out any sounds in the clearing. Maybe they’d gone. All of them.
Her breathing increased. Her brain tried to reason out why she was wrong, but her thoughts had tangled into a knot. All she knew was she’d been left. Again.
The fabric covering her eyes absorbed her tears-but she never cried. That didn’t seem to matter in the sadness swamping her mind. She’d known he wouldn’t stay with her, and now it hurt… She’d known it would hurt when he left.
She pulled at the cuffs, needing the blindfold off, and couldn’t move. How would she ever get out of this stuff? But it didn’t seem to matter. He’d left her alone. She’d always be alone.
Suddenly the blindfold was yanked off, and she looked up through her tears at Jake. His face resembled granite as he reached around her and undid her cuffs. He picked her up effortlessly and carried her across the clearing. With his foot, he shoved one of the fireside logs sideways, perpendicular to the fire, then sat on the ground and leaned on the log. He didn’t put her down, merely cradled her like a baby with her back against his right arm, and her bottom on his hips. She’d been a baby.
But he hadn’t left her. Relief trickled upward, barely making it through the dam of emotions.
“Are you hurting, Kallie?” he asked. His face was in the darkness, the fire burning brightly behind him.
She shook her head, her throat still constricted.
“Then why the tears?” He rubbed her shoulder, easing the tenseness out of her muscles.
She swallowed and edged away from the blackness inside. “I thought you left,” she whispered and realized how pitiful she sounded. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too constricted.
“Shhh.” After a second, he asked, “You think I would leave you cuffed and blindfolded?” Anger threaded through his deceptively mild voice.
“I’m sorry.” She stared down at her hands, seeing the rich brown leather cuffs still around her wrists. He’d never do such a thing. How could she have thought it?
“When you and your boyfriends played games, did one leave you alone?”
She shook her head and hauled in a shuddering breath.
What the hell had happened with her? Jake wondered. She’d never left his sight. If she hadn’t been crying so quietly with the blindfold concealing her tears, he would have caught her distress sooner. But she hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound.
She hadn’t expected him to return. He pushed aside his outrage and focused on the problem instead. Something had created such an expectation, but apparently not a past BDSM experience.
Scrubbing away the tears, she said in a stronger voice, “I’m sorry, Jake. I never cry.”
And why was that? He’d deliberately turned the log before sitting down so the
