Page 41 of Savage Game
He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her wrist. “Maybe someday but not now.”
“Okay.” A twinge of disappointment made her chest ache.
“I’m not brushing you off, kitten. It’s just a long ugly story and right now I want to focus on your experience and not my scarred-up ugly mug.”
“Ugly?” She slapped her palm on his chest and winced. Was he made out of concrete? “You remind me of an old French movie my nana liked. The main character Geoffrey is scarred too, but he is still a beautiful man. A line on his face can’t diminish that, and neither can it for you.”
His lips curled up, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s agree to disagree on this.”
She hesitated, wanted to push past this strange insecurity from an otherwise utterly confident man. But they would have time, and right now she would do anything to erase the sadness, even by talking about embarrassing stuff.
She cleared her throat. “The flogger never really hurt, just burned a bit, and… it also turned me on.” She cleared her throat again. Her mouth was bone dry.
With one arm curled securely around her, he took a sports drink from his nightstand and used his teeth to pull the cap. “Have a drink.” He held the bottle in front of her and waited until she had a firm hold. She drank some of the liquid and lowered the bottle to her lap.
“Take a bit more.”
She yawned and shook her head. “Too tired.”
“A few more sips and then you can rest.” He guided the bottle to her lips and held the bottle there until she finished almost half.
“Huh”—she blinked—“I guess I was thirsty after all.”
He hummed. “Our brain isn’t good at detecting thirst at the best of times. Since you went pretty deep into subspace, your mind is sluggish at best. Now rest or sleep.” He took the bottle from her, placed it back on the nightstand, and pulled her snug against him. “I’ll hold you.”
She encircled his waist and clung to him because she wanted to hold him too.
17
Day Seventeen
“How are your back and thighs today?” Master glanced over the rim of his coffee cup.
“Fine, actually.” She smiled at his scowl at her use of the word fine. “No, honestly. No lingering pain, and no marks or bruising. Only a pleasant soreness like after a vigorous workout.”
Without a word, he held out his hand, and she rushed to join him. In the now familiar way, he tugged her onto his lap, and she snuggled against his chest. Inhaling his scent, touching his warm skin—even through his dress shirt, and listening to the steady beat of his heart never failed to make her feel comfortable and safe.
He rested his chin on her hair and let her enjoy the safety of his arms for long seconds.
When the weight of his head left, she tipped back her face and looked up at him.
“I wanted to go shopping with you for some vanilla wardrobe. Are you up for a trip to Zona Rosa Town Center, or should I arrange for a personal shopper to come to the penthouse?”
Charlotte wrinkled her forehead. In fact, she was ready for a trip, but she wasn’t too keen on him spending more money on her.
“What?”
“You know me too well.” She tried to scowl at him. “How is it possible after such a short amount of time?”
Master gripped her chin between thumb and forefinger. “Yes, I do. I know you well enough, to realize you’re evading my question. Spill it, Kittycat. What is bothering you?”
Darn it.
Realizing she couldn’t avert her gaze, she stilled. When he was both tender and domineering, she found him irresistible. “I think I would like to go outside for a while today.” She hesitated, and then admitted, “I’m just not comfortable with you spending so much money on me.” She tried to look down, but his hand tightened. Not enough to be painful, but enough to let her understand she wasn’t supposed to look away. “Makes me feel cheap and greedy.”
His foreboding mien morphed into something as close to tenderness as she’d ever witnessed from him. She swallowed.
“Kitten, I have more than enough money and I like spending it on you. Call me a possessive bastard, but I like the idea I’ve bought the fabric covering your beautiful body. The knowledge I paid for the swatch of lace and silk covering your breasts, ass and pussy”—he jerked up his hips and pressed a growing erection against her—“makes me hard every time.”
