Stray (11 page)

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Authors: Erin Lark

BOOK: Stray
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“Don’t worry about that tonight. You can use one of my gowns.” Marnie called over her shoulder, leaving the mug on the coffee table before heading up the steps.

I followed close behind her. “Where am I staying?”

“At the end of the hall. My door’s on the right, and yours is on the left. You should have everything you need in there.”

I nodded and opened the door, pausing to flick on the switch. Light filled the room from a fan hanging overhead. The room itself was almost as big as Dylan’s, and with just as many furnishings. Aside from what I could only guess was a walk-in closet, there was a dresser and a queen-sized bed with a table at either side of it, framed by windows pointing towards the side of the house.

“Like it?” Marnie asked from behind me.

“It’s…” I glanced back at her. “I can’t possibly accept so much space. I swear it’s almost as big as my entire apartment. Well, so long as you don’t include the hallway for a kitchen and shower.”

“There’s more than enough space to go around. My room’s the same size, so you don’t have to worry about anything like that.” She placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “I’m going to make sure the doors are locked and clean up downstairs. I should be up in a bit.” She turned to go, pausing when she reached the stairs. “Call me if you need anything. Oh, and the gown is on the dresser.”

I went to speak, but by the time I could form words, Marnie was gone.

 

* * * *

 

It was way too early for me to be awake. Blinking at the darkness in my new room, I tensed when I realised someone was lying beside me. Their breathing was slow, which meant they were asleep. But how long had they been there?

Rolling over to face my visitor, I could only make out the outline of the comforter. It could’ve been Marnie, but if it was, why hadn’t she woken me up? Biting my lip, I considered calling for her across the hall but thought better of it when the smell of cigarette smoke and a few too many beers reached my nose.

“Dylan?” I whispered, shaking him awake. “You awake?”

“Mmm?” He mumbled something I couldn’t understand before flopping onto his side to look at me. Without opening his eyes, he lifted an arm so I could curl up against him. I happily accepted the invitation, sighing when his body pressed into mine. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not really.” I hugged one of his arms to my chest. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until the end of the week.”

“We cut it short by two days.”

I rolled onto my back, smiling when he kissed me. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” Dylan propped himself up on an elbow. “Besides, we really didn’t know until last night. Figured I’d save you both the hassle of picking me up at the airport. You already had enough going on.”

“Thank you for this.”

“Thank
you
for letting me. Did you get everything in okay?”

“For the most part. Everything else can stay there, for all I care.” I stifled a yawn. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right. I’m feeling about the same.”

“What about Marnie?”

“What about her?”

“Shouldn’t you…you know?”

“I will, but I wanted to spend some time with you first.”

“Dylan, you were asleep.”

“Like I said, I wanted to spend time with you first.” He kissed me on the lips, his smile melding into mine. “I didn’t say I had to be awake for it.”

“What about work? Don’t you need to go back in the morning?”

Dylan shifted his weight, hugging me to his chest. “You really are a worrier, aren’t you? Look, don’t concern yourself with that kind of thing. I’ll worry about work. In the meantime, you need to get some sleep. I refuse to flog a sub when she’s half-awake.”

I shuddered, and as he cradled me in his arms, Dylan stroked his fingers through my hair. Closing my eyes, I breathed in his cigarette smoke, his aftershave and the scent of whatever he’d worn on his flight home. I fell asleep shortly after that. Everything else would have to wait until morning.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

 

The next two days had gone by in a complete blur. Dylan had worked longer hours than usual, or so Marnie had said—possibly to finish whatever paperwork was left from his trip. And even though it would’ve been nice to have him as my Master once he’d got home, he’d been lucky to get his shoes off before he’d crawled into bed.

And tonight was no different. When Dylan finally made it up to our room, Marnie was right behind him, removing bits of clothing whenever she could. His tie ended up somewhere in the doorway. His shirt on the dresser. His pants on a bed post. As he crawled into bed, I threw back the covers to remove his shoes, giving Marnie a sympathetic look.

“Does he have to work tomorrow?” I asked, leaning over to set the alarm clock on my side of the bed.

“Luckily, no. He has this Saturday off. A mental health day.”

I nodded and made sure the alarm was turned off before rolling back over towards Dylan, who had already fallen asleep. My heart sank, and I had to wonder when Marnie would get the attention she needed from him. He’d been sleeping with me every night since he’d got back, and even though we were still very new, I knew Marnie had needs just as much as I did.

She can have him tomorrow.
I don’t think either of us was willing to wake him up just to move Dylan between our rooms.

“I’ll be across the hall if you need me.” It was Marnie’s nightly routine, dismissing herself from the room before closing the door behind her.

I lay back down and combed my fingers through Dylan’s hair. He stirred but didn’t wake. He may have been my Master, but I was more than happy to look after him for the night. Saturday meant we could sleep in, which also meant I could stay awake.

I arced my thumb over his cheek, smiling at the stubble I found there. Short, but ever present. It was a part of him as much as the suit he would’ve worn to bed, had Marnie not removed it.

Shoving one of my hands under my pillow, I used the other to finger my collar. I was his. And I wasn’t going anywhere.

 

* * * *

 

Morning came way too soon, and as the fog from my dreams lifted, I knew that even though it was early and I was still tired, I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Without opening my eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder why I’d woken up in the first place. I’d drawn the shades the night before, turned off the alarm clock and Marnie had closed the door to my room.

There was absolutely no reason for me to be—

“You awake?” Dylan asked as he bounced on the mattress like a little kid.

I groaned and opened my eyes, surprised to find Dylan standing over my legs. “I am now—no thanks to you.” I shielded my eyes from the little bit of light in the room and glared at him.

Dylan knelt down and craned his neck to read the alarm clock. “It’s ten in the morning. If you slept in any later than that, I’d have to pester Marnie.”

“Oh, yeah?” I propped myself up on my elbows, leaning my head back to work the kinks from my neck. “But I bet she’s been awake since five. And my guess is you’ve already annoyed her until she shooed you from the room.”

“Am I annoying you?” Dylan’s expression changed, his eyes darkening.

Heat brushed my cheeks, and I averted my eyes. Whatever smartass remark I’d come up with was lost far beneath my submission.

“Am I?” Dylan asked again, leaning in to press his nose against mine.

“No, Master.”

“Liar.”

“I’m tired,” I blurted out, placing a hand over my mouth as soon as I had. “Sorry.”

“We’ll get you caffeinated, then. You know what today is, don’t you?”

I lay back and drew in a deep breath when he dismounted to lie down on his side of the bed.
Not that I know of.
“No, Master.”

“One month.” He kissed me on the cheek, his expression flitting back to the playful one I’d seen earlier. “You’ve been my sub for one whole month.”

I furrowed my brow as I tried to remember how long it had been since our first meeting at the club. There had been two meetings as far as I could recall—one week apart. Then there had been his two-week vacation.
That’s only three weeks.

“Three weeks,” I said, after giving it some thought. “We’ve been together for three weeks. Not four.”

“Yes, but we’ve had four Fridays together. So that’s one month.”

I shook my head and smiled. “You sure have an odd way of calculating time.”

“Well, in my defence, I have suffered from jet lag recently.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that. So, what’s the rush? Why are you waking me up?”

Dylan gave me a hurt look, which soon turned into a grin. “Because, if I let you sleep any more, we’ll lose half of our day. Besides, it’s about time you got a proper flogging, but we need to go over a few rules first.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. We’d spoken about the Saint Andrew’s cross in his dungeon, floggers and aftercare a few times before. Never in extreme detail, but we had touched on it in the past. I’d wanted to face the cross after our second week together, but for whatever reason, he’d waited until now to actually use it on me.

“Pull off your gown and roll onto your stomach,” Dylan said, leaning over the bed to fish something out of the bedside table.

I threw my gown off and shoved both hands under my pillow. I watched Dylan as he placed a bottle of lotion on his half of the bed, then rolled the covers down to my hips before straddling my legs.

“Do they hurt?” he asked, his fingers tracing the scarring on the back of my neck, my left shoulder and hips.

“Not really. Sometimes they do if I scratch my skin too hard.”

“So it’s safe to say that flogging these areas is off limits, then.”

“You can—just go easy on them.” I turned my head so I could look at him. “What’s the cream for?”

“Precaution. I’ll use it after flogging you as well, but figured a little now and a lot more later wouldn’t hurt.” He opened the cap, squeezed some cream into his hands and closed the bottle before throwing it down onto his pillow. “Let me know if I’m too rough.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. Dylan swished his hands together before pressing down on my shoulders. The cream was warm, and as he kneaded it into my skin, my breathing slowed. His hands worked against my muscles, slowly smoothing out kinks I hadn’t even known I had. After he’d turned my shoulders into Jell-O, he moved down my sides.

I winced when he found a knot, my body tensing the slightest bit.

“Bad one, huh?” Dylan breathed, easing off that area to focus on another. “We’ll come back to it.”

I mumbled something as Dylan carefully rubbed at my hips until my entire body felt warm from his massage. He paused, opened the bottle, then closed it again. This time, he didn’t rub, knead or work on my knots. Instead, he massaged globs of cream onto old scars. When he’d finished, he settled onto his side of the bed, his hand still on my back.

“Don’t move. I want to cover those.”

I furrowed my brow, frowning in to my pillow. They were scars. They’d healed on their own. I wasn’t sure what Dylan was hoping to do that my body hadn’t done already, but when he came back with a handful of bandages, I didn’t stop him.

Layering a few pieces of gauze over my shoulder, he taped it down, then did the same thing to my hips and neck.

“Try to keep those on for most of the day, if you can,” Dylan instructed, putting the remaining bandages and cream away. “I should’ve thought about it last night so you could sleep with them on, but—”

“You were a zombie when you came in,” I finished for him as I sat up, trying to ignore how odd the bandages felt. “I was surprised you even made it up the steps in your condition.”

“Oh?” Dylan padded around the bed and handed me my gown. “And what condition is that?”

“Jet lag?”

He smiled. “We won’t be going out tonight, so you can keep the gown on as much as you like. It will help your skin breathe.”

I wanted to argue, but it was a Saturday, and I didn’t trust any of my other clothing enough not to undo what he’d already done. I pulled my gown on and settled back into bed. Dylan did the same, drawing the covers up so they were over my shoulders.

“Now, I know we’ve talked about aftercare, but I want to be prepared.” He brushed the backs of his fingers against my cheek. “What are some things you like that give you a lot of comfort?”

“How do you mean?”

“You know, if you’re feeling sick or upset, what do you usually do to make yourself feel a little better?”

I bit at my lip. “Warm baths with lots of bubbles.”

“What else?”

“Piles of blankets.”

“How many?”

I stared at him. “Three. Sometimes four.”

“Because you’re cold?”

I shook my head. “To feel the weight on me.”

He nodded. “In other words, to feel protected. What else?”

“You.” I averted my eyes. “The robe you used on me that one night in the dungeon. Marnie’s tea.”

“And here I thought you weren’t into tea.”

“It’s funny, neither did I until she made me some peppermint tea the other night.”

“She’s good at that—converting others.”

“Talking from personal experience?”

“Of course.” He wrapped a hand around my arm. “Is there anything else you can think of that makes you more comfortable?”

“Not really, no. I think we covered most of them. What’s with all the questions, anyway?”

“I like to avoid subdrop whenever I can. This is usually done through lots of aftercare. Now, I could use things on you during your aftercare that have worked for Marnie and my other subs in the past, but by not knowing your exact comforts, one of the things I use could actually be a trigger for you.” He put a finger between my collar and my neck. “Take Marnie, for example. One thing she likes during aftercare is for me to unlock her collar so she can hold it. Now, most Doms wouldn’t allow this, but I’ve found that by handing her the collar she wears most of the time, I can bring her out of subspace a lot sooner than if I didn’t use it.”

“How in the world did you ever figure that out?”

“You mean with her collar?” He smiled. “Simple. She asked for it. I thought it was a little odd at first, but it really seems to help. Now, if she goes into deep subspace—which doesn’t happen too often—the collar isn’t enough.”

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