It’s… romantic. Which isn’t my normal scene.
But for her, I wanted to give her something. She’ll never know what spending Christmas with her family did for me. It wasn’t a selfish act. It was all for her, but in the process, something switched and I owe her this.
Being with her family only showed me how different we really are.
And how much is available to her.
The lies flowed so easily for me as I tried to blend in. They couldn’t know who I really was. They’d never understand. But it was nice to fake it, at least for a little while. It was a real pleasure to feel a sense of family.
She has a collection of people who love her, and who want to be loved by her in return. They’ll be there for her when I’m gone. When I send her away. I’ll have to. I can never truly fit in with her family.
Lying about us only emphasizes that fact.
“You know all you do is make me sick.” My mom sits on the sofa, staring straight ahead and for a moment, I pretend she isn’t talking to me. I’d just walked through the door. I stole for the first time. Christmas is next week and I know my mom needs shoes. Hers have holes in them. Mine do too, but I could only fit one pair in my coat. I was so afraid of getting caught. I think the cashier saw me, but let me walk out. I don’t know for sure. So for my shoes, I’ll have to go somewhere else. I’m too afraid that the cashier from before will recognize me.
I hear my mom talking about how I’m pathetic and weak, but I pretend those words aren’t meant for me. Like she’s talking to the wall she’s been staring at since I walked in. But I know she is, and when she finally turns to look at me, I can see she’s high again. “He wasn’t supposed to go to war. It’s your fault. It’s all because of you,” she sneers at me.
She tells me I drove him to leave. They fought because of me. He went to war because of me.
Sometimes she admits that she loved him. Those moments at least make me a little happy. I thought I was starting to imagine the memories of us being a family.
She doesn’t tell me she loves me. She doesn’t admit that.
But she does. I know she does.
The sound of the front door opening makes me move faster through the living room to my bedroom. I’m not safe there, but if I stay away, I may be able to avoid him beating on me.
“Yeah, run away, Isaac. Run away, just like your father did,” I hear her voice continue to taunt me as I shut the thin veneer door to my small room. “Run away, coward!”
I clear my throat and straighten my dark red tie, ignoring the painful past.
I fucking hate these suits. I have to wear them at the club, but I wasn’t meant to wear them. But again, it’s a romantic date of sorts. And I bought her a dress to wear.
It’s short, but elegant. A sparkling silver shift dress that’ll probably come off as soon as I get my hands on her, but I thought she’d like it. The way the fabric flows made me think of her twirling in it.
I hope that’s what she’s doing now, twirling in her room to make the ends of it swish around her upper thighs.
A small huff of a rough laugh leaves my lips as I sit down on the modern white sofa and take a look around.
It’s simple, but it’s something.
Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, a bracelet and candlelight. My gift to her. It’s not enough. I can never give her enough.
The thought makes my skin prick with a chill that runs from my shoulders down to my toes. I crack my neck and try to ignore the thoughts that have been creeping into my head late at night.
Seeing her family… did something to me. It reminded me of her purity. The life she’s working toward gaining back. The life she wants, although she doesn’t realize it. Again it makes me think I’m not a capable Master for her. It’s a life I don’t belong in.
I enjoy having her here. But the time with her family made it very obvious that this arrangement is temporary. She may not know it yet. She isn’t looking that far ahead.
Until it’s time, I’ll continue my role as her Master.
She does need to pick a collar. One that will suit her. It’s time that she wore one. It’s time to push my kitten a little. I won’t make her wear it until she’s ready, but she can choose which one she wants.
I picked out new anklets, too. Just to gauge her reaction.
I don’t want her to get so used to it that it replaces the shackle. I hate that she’s still using it. Although I’m not surprised, not really. She fears the memories more than she desires her freedom. Although the latter does seem to be taking on more of an edge since the bathroom incident.
Every time she takes it off, there’s still a hint of pain there.
She’s quick to put it back on after the shower.
One day she’ll take it off, and it will give her strength. When I’m a worthy Master for her.
The faint sounds of clicking heels from behind me snap me from my thoughts.
My heart stutters in my chest, the world blurring behind her as she walks into view. Her head is partially bowed, but with shyness, not from submission. Her cheeks are flushed and with a touch of makeup, her natural beauty is only heightened.
My Katia is utterly gorgeous.
Her eyes widen and her lips part slowly as she takes in the room. She stands still at the entrance, not sure where to go or how to react.
I’m quick to walk to her, taking large strides until I’m by her side, planting a small kiss on her cheek. My heart seems to come to life once again, pounding rapidly and heating my blood as I wrap my arm around her back and let my thumb run up and down over her hip.
“Thank you, Master,” Katia breathes, looking up at me through her thick lashes as I lead her to the lounge.
I kiss her cheek again and she does something she’s never done. She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder as we walk and wrapping her arm around my waist.
No one has ever done that.
I continue walking as though nothing’s changed, but as soon as she sits I leave her.
It was one thing to engage in that display of affection for her family’s sake. For her sake in front of her parents, really. But here, it means something different.
And I allowed it.
I should correct it. I should draw the line once again since it seems to have blurred, but instead I reach into the bucket and pop the cork off the champagne bottle with a flourish.
Although I’m not facing Katia, I can still see her smile. She even brings her hands up as though to clap, but she stops herself.
She has a brightness about her. Desire to be happy. It’s one of the things that drew me to her, but also one of the reasons I know I should stay away.
“Master?” she asks me as I pour the chilled champagne into our glasses. The fizz of the bubbles and clinking of the glasses make a smile stretch across my face. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed this type of luxury.
“Yes, kitten?” I turn to face her, a glass in each hand. The dress has slipped up on her thighs and I was right. It looks fucking gorgeous on her, but it’ll look better on the floor.
I set the glasses down and sit easily next to her. My dick is already hard from sitting so close to her. The easy touches and soft sounds of her sigh as she leans against me make me want her that much more.
I don’t see how I’ll ever have my fill of her.