Page 39 of Reclaimed

“But wouldn’t you be worried about getting caught?” I felt a strange twisting sensation in my stomach when I imagined Ray being taken away from me. I might not want this life, but I could no longer deny how much I wanted him.

“You don’t need to worry about that. I can take care of everything when the time comes.”

“Would you really trust me enough to let me go out on my own?”

“Maybe. I hope I can, one day. But I want you to do things because they’re what you really want, not just because you feel like that’s what you ought to do.”

“But you said that if I stay, we’d be 24/7. That seems like it would be pretty limiting.”

“Does you showing your devotion to me have to be limiting?”

“No, but—”

“Does me looking after you have to be limiting?”

“It could be. It is now.”

“Things will be different, I promise. It’ll just take some time.”

I didn’t know what to believe. I just couldn’t imagine an existence where Ray trusted me to go out, to meet people, to study, to just be in the world. Surely, living with someone that possessive was always going to feel like a battle?

“Look, I know you don’t want to draw comparisons, but think of it like this: when we were having sex just now, did you feel like someone else?”

“No.”

“Exactly. I might expect sacrifices from you sometimes, but I will never require you to abandon yourself.”

I suddenly felt immensely guilty for everything I’d relayed about David. I knew I’d painted him in a terrible light, but it hadn’t been like that when we were together. He’d loved me, he’d supported me, and I knew he wanted what was best for me. He just had difficulty understanding what that was. Maybe if we’d had more time…

“Did you get rid of my ring?”

Ray took my hand and squeezed it.

“It found its way back to him.” It wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting, but he had no reason to lie. Had he done it as a kindness to me or to David? Either way, I appreciated that it must have been a risk.

“Thank you, Master.”

16

Ray stayed close to me for the next few days. He worked as little as possible and seemed to just want to be around me, even when I was busy with something else. I was folding laundry in the living room when he came to stand in the doorway. Maybe it was the post-sex hormones, or maybe it was some kind of change in him, but the pull I felt in his presence was so much stronger now, and I could feel myself warming under his gaze.

“What you were saying yesterday,” he began, unusually tentatively, “about needing to submit – do you think you’re ready for all that again?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?”

“Calling me Master and doing my laundry doesn’t mean you’re submitting to me.”

“I guess not.”

“I know you’re still worried about going 24/7, but what about if we started to… play again.” I stopped folding. I hadn’t really thought about it, but it did seem like the natural next step now that we were sleeping together again. “Think of it like a practice run, or lots of little practice runs; time where you can let yourself remember that it’s okay to trust me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His eyebrows were raised. “Just like that? No arguments? No what-ifs?”

“Will I be allowed to safe-word?”

“Of course.”

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