“Will you…will you tie me before we talk about it?”
“At first,” I say as I think about it. “Eventually, you will need to be able to talk about it without the bondage as your crutch. I’ll know when you need it, and I’ll push your limits to do as much as you can without it. You’ve been hurt, and that isn’t something I can let you ignore.”
Yvette nods. I can’t tell by her expression whether she’s agreeing with me or simply acquiescing. It will be hard for her either way.
“You’ve been hurt, too,” she says softly.
“I hurt someone,” I correct.
Looking into my eyes, she smiles sadly.
“Your scars are on the inside.” I blink as I look at her, and she drops her gaze from my eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have-”
“No,” I interrupt, “you’re right. We are speaking freely now, and I want you to say what’s on your mind.”
“I just meant that maybe I can help you, too.”
I stroke down the side of her neck and then back up to cup her cheek.
“You already have.”
She leans into my touch and closes her eyes as she places her hand over mine.
“I don’t want to go,” she says.
“I don’t want you to.”
She opens her eyes and looks at me.
“Will you put it back on?” she asks.
My stomach tightens. I’m hesitant, but I don’t think it’s her. I think it’s just me. I’m not completely sure what makes me afraid, if it’s the idea of having to provide for her all the time, the responsibility it places on me to be in charge of healing this woman, or just plain fear of failing her.
If I don’t help her, who will?
I touch the side of her face and push her long hair off her shoulder. The smaller scars are plainly visible there, and I trace one with my finger.
“Yes,” I tell her. “If you are sure you want to try this, I’ll put it back on.”
“I’m sure.”
I pull the chain from my pocket, and Yvette kneels in front of me. I pull her hair back, stroke her throat, and clasp the collar around her neck.
“Thank you, Master.”
Yvette is practically giddy. It’s the first time I’ve seen her unable to hold herself still. She keeps reaching up and touching the collar on her neck even though it had been there most of the weekend.
“I’m starting to think those Butterfingers make you hyper,” I tease.
“I’m sorry, Master,” Yvette says as she stills and bows her head. “I’m just…happy.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” I tell her. I take her chin in my hand and kiss her firmly.
Yvette’s hands rest against my che
st, and I can feel her fingering the key at my neck. I kiss her once more before taking her by her hand.
“Come along, pet,” I say with a smile. “It’s time for bed.”