Page 50 of Chasing Amber

I wince when my butt touches the mattress, but it’s not too bad.

“I’m going to get some ointment for your bottom. I’ll be right back. Can you roll over for me?” He kisses my forehead before he leaves me.

I hate it when he’s gone. I want him to stay with me. But I don’t say anything. I’m not being reasonable. Obviously, he has to go to his own room to get the ointment.

I whimper as I roll onto my tummy. It seems like my entire body hurts. I bet I was stiff while he was spanking me. I thought I had been relaxed, but probably not.

When he’s back, he sits on the edge of the bed and pushes the T-shirt up my back again. “This will help your skin cool, baby. Hold still while I rub it in.”

I’m facing him, and I stare at him for a moment before I find the courage to ask, “Why do you have that?”

He smiles at me. “Every good Dom has a soothing ointment for naughty bottoms in his toy bag.”

“When did you last use it?”

He’s in the middle of squeezing a line of cream onto his hand when he pauses to meet my gaze. “I’ve never used this before, baby, and my palm hasn’t been in contact with a woman’s bottom since I met you.”

I gasp. “But you go to Surrender sometimes. You don’t spank anyone?”

“Nope. I used to, but I haven’t played with another sub since I met you. I find comfort in being at Surrender, where there are like-minded Dominants and Daddies, but I haven’t touched other women, Amber.”

I stare at him, stunned by his admission. I assumed he played when he was there. He has never let me go on the nights he goes, and it’s been a damn long time since he last went anywhere without me, but I assumed…

More tears roll down my cheeks. I’ve halted this man’s life. I’ve been so self-absorbed that I never paused to think about the fact thatI’mhis world. He’s not shitting me. I’ve been his girl for a long time, and I’ve wasted all that time in denial.

Why? What did I gain from pretending he meant nothing to me? I told myself it was easier not to get close to anyone, but was it?

I need this man. I need him more than I need my next breath. He is my life. My rock. My man. My Daddy. I need him to be a caregiver and a lover. I need him to listen to me when I’m down and support me when I’m excited.

I’ve done nothing but thwart his every effort to take care of me for two years. I’m done fighting.

I purse my lips while he rubs the ointment into my heated skin. It hurts, but it feels good at the same time. When he’s done, he leaves the T-shirt where it is and pulls the sheet over me.

He kisses my temple. “I’m going to get you a drink, baby.”

I watch as he leaves my bedroom. Fuck, he’s sexy. He’s perfection. Every inch of him.

When he returns a few minutes later, he’s holding a bright-red sippy cup.

I use my elbows to prop myself up and giggle. It feels good. “Where did you get that?”

“Remember all those boxes I pulled into the apartment when we arrived?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re full of surprises.”

I giggle again.

He holds the cup to my lips and tips it back, helping me get a long drink.

When I’m done, I drop back down onto my tummy.

He heads for my bathroom and returns with a different ointment. “Let me see your chin, baby.”

I tip my head farther and hold still while he applies more petroleum jelly.

“Good girl. Does it hurt?”

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