I nod my head, my fingers unconsciously finding my neck, trailing my scars. “And a collar?” I dare ask, my body going tense. Just thinking about it is causing my stomach to twist with anxiety.
Isaac hesitates. “When you’re ready,” he says finally.
Shock causes me to suck in a surprised breath. I didn’t expect him to say that. At all.
“I know this is hard for you,” Isaac says, his deep voice filled with absolute confidence. “But don’t be afraid. I will care for all of your needs. You need not worry. Ever.”
God, his words sound so reassuring. So seductive, even.
I close my eyes, sucking in several calming breaths, telling myself I can do this. When I open them a moment later, I feel the faintest threads of determination thread through my chest as I breathe, “I’m ready,” praying I feel the same way tomorrow.
Chapter 17
Isaac
I twist my hands on the leather steering wheel of my Porsche Carrera GT. It’s fucking freezing outside, but the heated seats and my nerves are making my back sweat. I look out of the window as we pull up to one of the last street lights before taking a private road to my home.
I take a glance at my kitten. She’s looking out of the window, twisting her fingers in her lap nervously. Her back is stick straight, and she looks like she’s not even breathing.
The first thing she’s going to do when we get home is drink. A large glass of sauvignon will do her well. I think I’ll make stuffed peppers to go with it. I’m going to need to occupy myself while she gets accustomed to her new role and new environment.
I didn’t imagine her taking it so hard. She’s completely changed before my eyes. The confidence is gone, and the sexual tension between us has vanished.
She’s scared, quiet. She hasn’t said a word other than yes. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion and her face still flushed from crying.
The drive home has been silent, but I’m ready to change that. As much as I feel for her, I’m still excited. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, filling me with an electric spark. I’ve waited so long for her, to have her here. I’m ready to show her what she’s truly capable of. And even more so, what I’m capable of.
“Do you like to cook?” I ask her. It’s been almost two weeks of seeing her every night. But I’ve barely learned much about her, other than her desires and a bit about her past. Of course I know much more than she’s told me. But the finer details, those are important and I need her to open up to me so I can learn them.
“I do, Master,” she answers softly. There’s a trace of fear in her voice.
“Are you good at it?” I cock a brow, giving her a humorous look as I slow the car at a stop sign. The hum of the engine vibrates up my back and fills the car with a quiet purr.
She opens her mouth and almost hesitates, but she quickly answers, “No.”
I let out an easy chuckle. “That’s more than alright, kitten.”
Her relief in my response is evident. “I enjoy cooking. I want you to help me though.”
“Yes, Master,” she says with a lighter voice than she’s had all day.
“We’re going to go over the rules and what’s required of you in the house while I make the sauce,” I say easily, pulling up to my house, the car jostling slightly as I drive up the driveway and wait for the garage to open.
I have a decent collection of cars. An expensive but carefully curated collection.
Katia sucks in a breath as she takes in my home.
It’s simple. I like simplicity, and the modern clean lines.
The house itself is very much like a cabin, except instead of stacks of logs there are large sheets of glass on the front. Being so far away from anyone else affords me the luxury of having privacy while also being able to expose my home. The entire front of the house is open to the deep woods we’re nestled in. I own the ten acres the house sits on, so it will always be like this. Quiet, serene and one with nature.
The soft grey sky disappears as I pull into the garage and quickly park the car.
“Come, kitten, come see your new home.”
I slip off my jacket as I lead her into the open kitchen. I have to take off the cufflinks in order to roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt. I don’t enjoy wearing a suit. I'd much rather be in jeans. But Club X has a strict dress code. Thank fuck we won’t be going there anymore.
Every step she takes seems deliberate. She’s on edge and waiting for something. Maybe waiting for my demeanor to change? I’m not sure.
“Have a seat,” I tell her easily, turning my back to her as she climbs onto the bar height chair at the granite island.
“I need to know your daily schedule and the plans you have every day for the next thirty days that I have you.” I continue to talk with my back to her, letting her get comfortable without having to worry about the possibility of me scrutinizing her.
I am. I’m taking in every little move and change. The angles of her body and the way she’s presenting herself. But it’s not for the reason she thinks.
I’m not judging her. I’m gauging her emotions. And so far it’s worse than I anticipated. It’s like the last two weeks haven’t happened.
I pluck three tomatoes from the basket next to the sink and set them down on a wood cutting board.
“Start with tomorrow.”
“I have work. From seven in the morning until seven at night.” She clears her throat slightly, and I can hear the slight squeak of the chair moving under her weight. “That’s all I have planned.”
“And the next day?”
“The same. Every day.”
“And the holidays?” I ask as I scrape the knife across the board, pushing the first diced tomato to the side.
“Nothing. Just work.”
The knife slices easily through the tomato and hits the cutting board. I’m still for a moment. I know her mother has sent her messages.
“You weren’t invited to go anywhere with family?” I ask as I grab a hand towel off of the counter, wiping the juice from my fingers.
“I was.”
“And?” I ask, my eyebrow raised. She’s a very lucky girl she didn’t lie to me.
“And I said I couldn’t go.”
“I see, and where was it that you were invited to go?” I ask her.
“To see my parents a few hours away.” She shakes her head slightly, dismissing the invitation. “They won’t be expecting-”
“We’ll both be attending,” I say, cutting her off. I don’t know why I made the decision so quickly. I hadn’t decided on whether or not I’d be going. But she sure as fuck is. She’s in desperate need of contact and conversation in person. From what I can tell, all of her friendships are online. I want more for her.
And it should start with her parents.
She stiffens in her chair, but she nods her head and says, “Yes, Master.”
“And for New Year's?” I ask her.
“I have no plans, nor was I invited to anything.” Her voice is quiet, but clear.
“We’ll spend that together then,” I announce and turn my back to her again to continue dicing the tomatoes.