Her second orgasm hit her like a fucking train, tearing through her body with so much force she felt sure she’d fly apart. Her clenching pussy dragged him to completion with her, his jagged breaths filling her ears as he spasmed and jerked through his own orgasm.
She was dead. Literally fucking dead. That was the only logical explanation for the way she seemed to float in nothingness, no physical form left to anchor her to the Earth.
For a fleeting moment, she considered trying to claw her way back.
Fuck it. If she really had been fucked to death, what a way to go.
CHAPTER 12
Mason
It took almost an hour for Addison to come back to him. He loved sending his submissives into subspace, but he took extra pride in it this time...with her. He had to explain what happened to her when she finally came back to herself. Knowing he was the first person to ever send her into that state of trancelike euphoria made him feel like a fucking king.
As if his ego needed that boost.
They were down in his living room now, relaxing until it was time to return to the Manor. The view was better upstairs, but the soft rug down here would be much more comfortable for her. He sat reading in his favorite chair—a midcentury piece with a simple beechwood frame and ivory cushions, the wooden arms perfectly shaped to nestle his long arms. Addison sat at his feet with her head resting against his thigh, legs once again curled up under her, still wearing nothing but her collar. Every now and then, she gave a soft sigh as he stroked her hair.
He’d never imagined himself doing something so . . . domestic.
“Master?” came Addison’s tentative voice.
“Yes, little one?”
“I—I want to explain,” she said, the words halting and soft. “About what happened last weekend.”
Putting aside his book, he gave her his full attention. “I’m happy to listen to anything you want to tell me,” he said. “As long as it’s because you’re ready, not only because you think I want you to.”
“I—I think I am?” She sure as hell didn’t sound certain. “I mean, you do want me to, don’t you? You keep asking, and I want to please you.”
Mason rubbed his fingertips in gentle circles across her scalp, hoping to put her at ease. “I want to know you. Understand as much about you as I can. But I only want to know what you want to share. This isn’t obligatory.”
She remained silent for well over a minute as she turned that over in her mind. Continuing to rub soothing circles into her hair, he waited patiently for her to make a decision.
“I’m afraid,” she admitted at last.
“Of what specifically?”
Huffing out a harsh breath, she said, “That you won’t like hearing what I have to say. You’re my Dom, not my therapist.”
His fingers stilled for a moment, until he made a conscious effort to get them moving again. So much frustration filled those simple words. “Has that happened to you before?” he asked. “Did you try to talk to someone, but they didn’t want to hear it?”
Her shoulders hunched forward, which was all the answer he needed.
“That’s not going to happen with me,” he assured her. “I give you my word.”
Addison fell silent again, and he didn’t press the matter. She would talk if and when she felt ready, and that was more than good enough for him.
At long last, she took a deep breath and said, “I got taken away from my mom when I was six.”
He remembered her comment about being raised by her grandmother, so that didn’t surprise him. “What happened?”
“My granny told me Mom died of a drug overdose while I was living with my second foster family, but I don’t remember anything about that to be honest.” Her voice sounded so incredibly small. “I just remember being alone a lot. Alone and hungry.”
Mason swallowed as he tried to figure out how to reply to that. “You went to foster homes first?” he asked, his mind drawing a complete blank on what to say to the rest of it. “Why didn’t you go straight to your grandmother’s?”
“I think it takes a lot of extra time and paperwork to transfer kids across state lines. And I guess it also took them a while to track her down?” She sounded like she didn’t entirely believe it. “I requested a copy of my file when I turned eighteen, and it said I had no known relatives for a while. Pretty sure they didn’t look too hard outside of New Mexico, though. It was the early nineties, so it’s not like everything was online and easy like it is now. And I apparently didn’t even know my last name when they came to get me, let alone who my dad or grandparents were.”
Mason couldn’t remember another time in his life when he was this stunned. Words completely failed him.