“Mmm-hmm,” I say, shaking my head. My mouth curves into a self-satisfied smile.
He grins at me. “What’s that look? Pleased with yourself?” We lie together, our breath gradually slowing.
I stretch against him, arms overhead, my body feeling long and luxurious. “Yes, daddy. Are you pleased with me?” Do you know how fearless I am when I’m with you? Do you feel the same way? Do I make you as happy as you make me?
“Yes, little one. Very much.”
We lie together for several minutes, his hand rubbing circles on the back of my neck. I watch him in the half-light while his eyes are closed. All the things I was afraid of when I first met him have fallen from me like shackles, but suddenly a new fear steals over me. What if I ask these questions and he doesn’t feel the same way?
Don’t be greedy, I caution myself. Stop craving more. Enjoy what you have. “This evening was wonderful,” I say after a moment. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, kitten.” He kisses the top of my head and asks, “How about I run you a bath? Stay here. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
He gets up, and a moment later I hear the sound of the bath running as I lie in bed. I twist this way and that, trying to feel an echo of that burn I felt when he first entered me, but there’s nothing there. I liked the sensation of him inside me, and I think I will like it even more the next time.
“Abby?”
“Coming!”
He holds my hand as I step into a bath thick with bubbles and a rosy scent, and helps me knot my hair on top of my head. “Oh my god,” I say, sinking back in the hot water. “Bliss.”
He laughs. “Back in a moment.” A few minutes later he comes into the bathroom wrapped in a robe and holding two glasses of champagne. “Fizz?”
I take the glass with a bubbly hand and we clink glasses. He sits on the edge of the bath and trails his hand through the bubbles. “So, was it what you were expecting?” he asks as I take a sip. I consider this.
“It was you. It was wonderful,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not fishing for compliments.”
“No, I mean it. Everything I do with you is wonderful.”
He rubs a bubbly forefinger over my cheek. “Sweetheart. Thank you.”
“What was your first time like?” I ask.
He grins. “Brief. I was fifteen and it was a girl called Michelle and she was pissed off with her boyfriend. She got back together with him the next day. I tried not to take it as a comment on my skills.”
I laugh, barely noticing as he reaches into the water, raises one of my feet and blows the bubbles off. Then he lowers his mouth and sucks on my big toe.
I clutch the side of the tub. “Bloody hell.” The sensation of his tongue and lips is sending sensations shooting through me. I can’t tell if it’s ticklish or arousing or both.
“Language,” he says, and then goes back to what he was doing.
“I can’t help it,” I say, between eeps and gasps. “My dom has a potty mouth.”
He moves onto my second toe. I’m finding it hard to hold onto my champagne. “Is that good?” he asks after a minute.
I nod vigorously.
“Like, sexy good?” I nod again, and he looks at me for a moment. “I don’t want to...meddle with you if you’re feeling sore—”
I giggle. “Meddle?”
He takes the champagne out of my hand. “That’s quite enough for you, young lady. I am asking you if you would like to come. But I understand if you don’t want to right now.”
“Are you kidding? Please meddle with me.”
He reaches over and pulls the chain attached to the plug and the bath starts to drain. “That’s my girl.”