Chapter 76 (2/2)
He swallows, then closes his eyes. He doesn't have to answer, and I know that punishing me was his exact intention.
”You have to stop doing this,” I murmur.
His brow furrows.
”For a start, you only end up feeling shittier about yourself.”
He snorts. ”That's true,” he mutters. ”I don't like to see you like this.”
”And I don't like feeling like this. You said on the Fair Lady that you hadn't married a submissive.”
”I know. I know.” His voice is soft and raw.
”Well stop treating me like one. I'm sorry I didn't call you. I won't be so selfish again. I know you worry about me.”
He gazes at me, scrutinizing me closely, his eyes bleak and anxious.
”Okay. Good,” he says eventually. He leans down, but pauses before his lips touch mine, silently asking if it's allowed. I raise my face to his, and he kisses me tenderly.
”Your lips are always so soft when you've been crying,” he murmurs.
”I never promised to obey you, Christian,” I whisper.
”I know.”
”Deal with it, please. For both our sakes. And I will try and be more considerate of your . . . controlling tendencies.”
He blinks, looking lost and vulnerable, completely at sea.
”I'll try,” he murmurs, his voice burning with sincerity. I sigh, a long shuddering sigh. ”Please do. Besides, if I had been here . . .”
”I know,” he says and blanches. Lying back, he puts his free arm over his face. I curl around him and lay my head on his chest. We both lie silent for a few moments. His hand moves to the end of my braid. He pulls the tie from it, freeing my hair, and gently, rhythmically, combs his fingers through it. This is what this is really about - his fear . . . his irrational fear for my safety. An image of Jack Smith slumped on the floor in my apartment with a Glock comes to mind . . . well, maybe not so irrational, which reminds me . . .
”What did you mean earlier, when you said or?” I ask.
”Or?”
”Something about Jack.”
He peers down at me. ”You don't give up, do you?”
I rest my chin on his sternum, enjoying the soothing caress of his fingers in my hair.
”Give up? Never. Tell me. I don't like being kept in the dark. You seem to have some overblown idea that I need protecting. You don't even know how to shoot - I do. Do you think I can't handle whatever it is you won't tell me, Christian? I've had your stalker ex-sub pull a gun on me, your pedophile ex-lover harass me - and don't look at me like that,” I snap when he scowls at me. ”Your mother feels the same way about her.”