Bound With Pearls (18 page)

The faint lines of tension eased around his eyes. “Good.” He kissed each peak. “How bad are you going to bruise?”

She touched the abused flesh. “Not too bad. Maybe like before. It goes away in a few days.”

“We should talk to Mistress Stella, she’s a doctor. I’m interested in seeing how we can play with your fair skin and pattern bruising.”

The idea intrigued her. “Is that possible?”

“I don’t see why not.”

He levered up to his knees and she felt the loss of his warmth acutely. Still, he’d just made a statement that they should do something. The inflection was not lost on her. He untied her ankles, giving them the same attention he had her wrists.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He padded off to the bathroom and returned a few moments later with a rag and a tube of antibiotic ointment. He gently wiped her breasts, his brow furrowing and drawing down to form two dark slashes above his eyes. “I want to put the ointment on, just in case.”

She didn’t argue, and what woman in their right mind would? He finished cleaning her off before applying a little bit of the gel to each breast. It didn’t sting more than anything else had, but the gesture was appreciated. He took his role seriously.

“There.” He put the tube on the nightstand and propped himself up on one arm. He splayed a hand across her abdomen. “Today didn’t quite go as planned, so humor me a little?”

“Okay.”

“Let me show you something.” He pushed up and grabbed an object from the bench at the foot of the bed.

She sat up, curious about where this was going. Her energy was fading, even if sleep was the last thing she wanted.

Daniel sat facing her and held up a black velvet square, like what jewelers displayed items on. Draped across the fabric was a bracelet, or maybe a cuff that went around a biceps. Long, narrow leaflike pieces made from a rose-colored wire were fitted together to make a band. Within the latticework, small craters marked where stones or gems would perch when it was finished.

“Do you know what this is?” His voice was low, his thumbs rubbing the plates.

She drew her knees up in front of her and wrapped her arms around her shins. “An armband? It’s too big to be a bracelet.”

He chuckled and held it up between his fingertips. The velvet square was pushed to the edge of the bed and forgotten. “No. Don’t you recognize it?” He laid the piece flat against his palm and traced the rounded end of a leaf.

Except it wasn’t a leaf.

She gasped and tightened her hold on her arms. “Are these my feathers?” Was this a piece of jewelry for his new collection? Mixed feelings of pride and jealousy warred within her. Someone else might wear a piece of jewelry that mimicked her tattoo. She didn’t know how she felt about that.

“It’s a necklace, of a kind.” He held up the two ends and showed her a strange-looking clasp. “This is a lock. I don’t make many of these. I only make them for friends who are stepping into a big commitment. It’s a collar.”

Her heart melted and her stomach clenched.

“I had tonight all planned out. I was supposed to have finished this earlier, so that when you got here we could have dinner, watch a movie. I was going to give you a massage, and while you were relaxed and naked, I’d put this around your neck.” He lifted the elaborate necklace over her head and brought it up against her nape. He rested his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs urging her to look up at his face. “And then I’d ask you to accept my gift.”

The world stopped turning and her heart stilled. The corners of his lips tugged upward. At some point she’d stopped breathing and her lungs screamed for air.

“That’s what I would have done, but stuff happened.”

She licked her lips. Her heart felt too big for her chest. He’d known what she needed before she did. “Impatience should be punished,” she said in all seriousness.

“Yes, it should.” The smile disappeared. “So what do you say, Chris? It’s a big step to take, and we haven’t known each other long. If you want to think about it, I understand.”

“I didn’t think you liked me that much.”

He frowned. “I took you out to dinner, invited you to not only meet my friends but my clients, and every time I’m around you my dick gets so fucking hard it hurts. What else do you want me to do? Get a neon sign? I think my decorator would kill me.”

“Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, he held the collar in place with one hand and lifted her hair out of the way, allowing the cold plates to meet skin. She shivered at the sensation but otherwise held still while he fussed with it.

“I made you a collar. I started making it after you left the first morning. I knew then if we matched up out of the bedroom like I thought we would I’d want to keep you on a short leash.”

Her heart hammered. “So if I say yes—”

He tugged on the collar. “When you say yes.”

He was hers, just as she was his. She smoothed her palms out over his chest, feeling the way his muscles played under her touch. He made her feel small and feminine, which was a difficult thing to do, and she liked it. She liked who she was with him.

“When, and if, I say yes what changes? What are we? I need to know.”

“You’re my submissive and no one else’s. I don’t share, nor do I play well with others. But you’re also my girlfriend, which means you’ll have to put up with my occasional grumpiness, my work schedule and someday meeting my family. It’s a two-way relationship, Chris. You can walk away just like I can, but it won’t be without a fight. I don’t offer this lightly, even if it seems that way. And who knows? Maybe someday I’ll want to give you another collar.”

She tilted her head to the side and smiled. Another day she might have shed a few tears, but she was all cried out. She touched the collar around her neck. “Could you put pearls on it?”

He smiled and slid the ends of the necklace together. It fastened with a soft click.

“I think I could do that. Do you mean this one? Or…?”

He was serious. Her skin was too tight, she wanted to run circles or hold him or something. She hadn’t dared to think about a future together; but she wanted it. “Both. Maybe use my mother’s pearls?”

He smiled and bumped his nose against hers, forcing her back against the mattress. “I like that idea. I have some freshwater pearls I can use now. Save your mother’s pearls for later. I can put them at the heart of each feather. Pearls are what brought us together after all.” He traced the line where collar met skin. “All bound up with pearls. Pearls and rubies. They suit you.”

About Sidney Bristol

It can never be said that Sidney Bristol has had a “normal” life. She is a recovering roller derby queen, former missionary, and tattoo addict. She grew up in a motor home on the U.S. highways (with an occasional jaunt into Canada and Mexico), traveling the rodeo circuit with her parents. Sidney has lived abroad in both Russia and Thailand, working with children and teenagers. She now lives in Texas, where she divides her time between a job she loves, writing, reading and belly dancing.

Sidney welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email
the author
directly or you can email us at
[email protected]
(when contacting Customer Service, be sure to state the book title and author).