Jane shook her head quickly. “No. I’d like that. I’m just the kind of person who doesn’t take well to sudden changes. Surprises.”
“I know.”
Once, he watched her fall apart on live television when the interviewer started to pry deeper into her personal life. He’d wanted nothing better than to throttle the life out of that lowlife, but he settled for another solution.
Jacob sometimes introduced new elements to their play, even if it rattled her. He wanted to change her mindset, to help her become adaptable. That was also the reason he gave her the impossible task of mending his baby blanket every single time. It was a lesson, a reminder there were some things she had no control of. She still didn’t understand why he gave her the same assignment but eventually, she would.
Jane let out a laugh, a musical sound he’d never heard before. He yearned to hear it again. “I guess you do.”
“Let’s clean you up. I also want to apply ointment to your welts,” he said.
“You never told me what’s in that ointment,” Jane said and got off his lap. Certain she wouldn’t slip from his grasp, he held out a hand to her. She took it, letting him lead her out of the playroom and back to his living room.
Jacob noticed her looking at her discarded clothing in the hallway, but she fixed her gaze back at him. She looked a little lost to him, uncertain, so unlike the strong, confident women in her interviews with the media. Jacob told her flat-out that he didn’t give a single damn who she was outside the playroom. He’d lied. Jacob had watched every interview she did and read up all the articles on her in print and online.
He nudged her into his bathroom. “Stay still,” he ordered. They were no longer in scene, but she obeyed his commands like it was the most natural thing to do. “Hold up your hair.”
Jane looked at the floor as he unbuckled her collar. Jacob didn’t miss the disappointment that flashed briefly through her eyes. He set the collar down and entered the shower with her. He kept the water pressure light. She let out a little gasp as he let the water run down her body, her welts.
Seeing the liquid streaming down the sensual swell of her breasts, the metal in her nipple rings catching the light, and down her stomach and between her legs, a groan escaped him. Newfound hunger assaulted him. It had been a mere hour since he exerted his dominance over this woman, reminded her who owned every last inch of her. She was sore, hurting, but he wanted to sink his dick inside her tender pussy again. Re-exert his claim over her.
“M-master? Jacob?”
Hearing his name on her lips snapped him back to reality. She stared at his cock, which hung thick and ready for her.
“Would you like me to—?” Jane didn’t finish her sentence. Jacob gripped her arm when she was about to go on her knees.
“No. You’ve done enough for tonight.” His voice came out harsh and she flinched. He needed to remedy his words before it turned into a misunderstanding. “We tend to your welts first.”
Jane nodded, looking relieved. She tensed at first when Jacob pulled her into an embrace, but she relaxed against him. The sensation of her wet breasts rubbing against his chest did little to help his erection. Jane closed her small fingers over his dick, surprising him again. He let her work his prick.
“Faster, apply more pressure,” he said, and she complied.
A groan of appreciation rattled from his chest as he came, painting her stomach with his jizz.
“Naughty little sub,” he told her. “Thank you.”
Heat danced across her cheek, making her seem so much younger. It was endearing. They finished showering and then Jacob toweled her off. He made her lie on his bed after, on her stomach so he could apply the ointment over her welts. Tending to his sub always felt therapeutic. Relaxing. After the ointment came the medical bandage. There. Fixed.
Neither of them spoke as Jacob kept his medical supplies and the ointment. Would awkwardness come next? They never quite reached this stage before and it felt odd but good. Their relationship was a hundred percent BDSM-centric so this was new territory.
Hearing her stomach rumble, Jacob laughed. Thank God for small favors. She burrowed her face into his pillows. Was she embarrassed? Cute, he decided, reaching out to stroke her right calf. Not an adjective he ever imagined using to describe her, but there it was. It struck him that they had so few moments like these. Normal, non-kinky moments.
“I’ll make us some dinner. Wait here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jane whispered those words as if she didn’t want him to know she uttered them, but he heard them anyway.
Jacob put on some boxers and headed to his kitchen. He was a chef by profession, so he fixed up something quick. He still had some leftover prawns from the night before and some parsley and fresh garlic. Jacob made spicy prawn aglio olio spaghetti. He served them on two plates, about to grab a bottle of wine when he noticed Jane watching him from behind the kitchen counter.
“It smelled so good, I got curious,” she said.
She’d found one of his old jogging shirts. It was two, maybe three sizes too big for her and fell to her knees.
Noticing his stare, she gripped the hem of his shirt. “Sorry, I should’ve asked if—”
“It looks good on you,” he said. He pushed one of the plates toward her, handed her a fork, and opened the wine. He poured them each a glass.
Jane twirled her pasta onto her fork and took a bite. Her blue eyes widened. “This is really good.”