The third store we browsed in, he seemed to clue in and let go of my hand. He followed me silently, not saying a word for the longest time. His presence behind me was soothing and I soon relaxed enough to peruse the racks, my hands finding the fine materials of things that caught my eye. It wasn't until I felt directionless that I realized he wasn't behind me anymore. I stopped moving and closed my eyes waiting to feel his gaze lingering on me, but there was nothing.
Without another choice, my eyes flickered open and started a frantic search for Jared’s tall frame and mop of dark hair. I found him standing at the checkout, the girl behind the desk fluttering her eyes at him as she pulled the security tags off almost every item I'd touched.
Unable to breathe or move, I just watched as he kept to pleasantries, ignoring her continuing attempts to flirt with him. When he was finally finished, he turned and searched for me. His eyes met mine across the store, and even from that distance, I could see the cold blue of our first meeting turn to the warm cerulean that had been staring at me after we had sex.
One nod of his head and I moved toward him automatically, taking the hand he held out for me. He was perceptive, his warm smile telling me that this was the game he'd play if he had to.
“What did you do?” I whispered, my hand squeezing his as he led me from the store and out into the bustling promenade that filtered shoppers between stores.
“I used my intuition. You weren't going to tell me what you wanted, so I watched you touch things. When I saw that look you had in the car when the sun shone on your face, I knew.”
He'd read me. He'd taken the time to read my reactions to things and made an executive decision. For a moment, I was breathless. In total, we'd spent maybe ten waking hours together and he'd seen right through me.
We went into more stores after that and he did the same thing, following me silently. I tried not to react, but the distance he gave me left me with the false sense of security that I was alone. I tried not to touch anything, the exuberance of his spending already loading him down with bags. From the looks of things, I had a whole new closet full of clothes, but he still knew what I coveted, without so much as a hint from me.
When we finally entered a lingerie store, I froze at the door, my eyes widening at the array of lace and silk that filled the space.
“What's the matter?” he whispered in my ear. He was so close that I jumped, but I was the only one that could hear him.
“I don't wear any of this.”
“By choice?”
“Mistress Kayla's personal choice, I guess.”
He hummed out a sigh, bending to place the bags by his feet before using his newly liberated hands to brush my hair over my shoulder.
“I like to unwrap things,” he said, smiling at a woman who almost walked into a rack holding dozens of bras. “Would you consider wearing it for me? If I know they're there... well, when the time comes, it'll be a treat to take them off slowly.” He leaned in again, his breath hot on my neck. “Or cut them off.”
Just like that, the anticipation had me wanting what littered the shelves. Deciding to take a chance, I turned shyly, pushing up to my toes, my mouth barely reaching his collar. “Will you pick out what you find attractive, Sir?”
He made a noise at the back of his throat and rocked on his heels, asking my sizes before disappearing inside and leaving me standing with the cumulative bags we'd already acquired.
Was this how it was for all Dominants? Or was it just another one of Jared’s anomalies? The truth was, it didn't matter. This was what pleased him, and that was one of the two reasons I was there, even if it did contradict what my Mistress wanted.
We didn't return to the house after the mall. Jared had called his grandfather to let him know we'd be out for dinner before whisking me away to a restaurant, a beautiful smile on his lips as he told me the dress was too good not to get full use out of it.
Shopping, dinner and an abundance of fresh air were all things I'd done a million times in my life, but Jared had a way of making every experience new. We talked for hours – him telling me about his sexual encounters and how he always knew he was different, and me telling him about how I'd discovered I was submissive before I finally met Mistress Kayla. I was always aware of keeping the details to myself, never once disclosing anything about my Mistress, or the more intimate parts of our relationship, which weren't common knowledge. She was a private person and anything she felt she wanted to disclose was her business.
I must have fallen asleep in the car on the way back to the house. One moment I was having a quiet conversation about his home in England, the next I was in his arms, being carried into the house with a hazy memory of Charles and Jared talking as I dozed with my head against his chest.
I barely noticed the dress being lifted over my head or the hiss through his teeth as he gently inspected the bruises littering my skin. It was only when I felt his arousal pushing against me that my mind stirred, and that was my last lucid memory until my eyes fluttered open the next morning.
I woke up alone in the huge bed, sunlight streaming through the windows as the bags covered the room. When I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I was convinced the shopping bags had multiplied since the night before. The previous day almost felt like a distant memory as I swung my legs from the bed and sighed in dismay.
The aches were almost completely gone.
It wouldn't be long until my body's craving set in and I would be left wandering the halls when I was alone, the need for pain and sexual gratification scalding me from the inside out. I was starting to think that I might have found the downside of living in the middle of nowhere. There were no museums or work to distract me until I could see Mistress again. As much as that shouldn't have been on my mind, it was how the craving slowly took control.
Needing to busy myself, I started putting away my clothes, getting lost in the exquisite materials and designs that I almost didn't remember looking at. My favorites were the underwear Jared had picked out for me. All of the delicate laces were in black, the silks in exuberant colors, and the corsets were beautiful.
After taking a shower, I went through my routine and set out several different dresses as well as skirts and blouses, all paired with my new underwear. I stood staring at it all in awe. There were too many options to choose from. I ended up settling on white cotton underwear, a white bohemian skirt in eyelet lace and a black chiffon tiered top, which was light and airy. It was modest, yet sexy, and the cotton hugging my curves underneath lent sensations I hadn't felt in a long time. It was strange what you got used to.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I headed from the room in bare feet and took my time wandering down the staircase, taking everything in as I did.
Charles had eclectic taste that seemed to suit his personality. Ming vases sat next to Faberge eggs, Edwardian furniture next to Louis the XIII furniture. There was no rhyme or reason to anything, but I loved the variations and diversity. I could see the appeal of every piece he'd chosen.
My grandma had once told me that the heart of any house was the kitchen, and her proverb once again steered me in the right direction. I found Charles sitting at the breakfast table, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. Sweeping my hands behind my back and inching my head forward, I waited for his greeting.
“Good Morning, Kit.”
“Good morning, Sir.”
Peering over his newspaper, he gave me a nod of approval before inclining his head to the chair opposite him. “Would you do me the honor of joining me?”
“I would like that, Sir. Thank you.”
I took my place opposite him, keeping my head bowed and my hands in my lap while waiting for his okay to eat from the elaborate set-up that spanned the top of the table. I tried not to look up at him, even as the time passed slowly, mainly because I could feel his eyes watching me, waiting for me to do or say something without his permission. He was testing me, and I appreciated the gesture because it kept my mind focused.
“You're better than I thought you were.” He chuckled, the rustle of his paper folding and being set to the side. “You can help yourself, Kit. I'm afraid Jared had to go in to the office. My son called this morning lighting a fire beneath him.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
I helped myself to some eggs and sausage links, folding the napkin in my lap and starting to eat as his eyes lingered on me. I fought the inclination to bounce my foot under the table; it wasn’t often I had this much time to myself and it was making me twitchy.
“Your Mistress called this morning. She's in New York and I do believe she's missing you.”
“I miss her, too, Sir.”
“I have no doubts, Pet. Kayla is...” He trailed off and rubbed his chin, a wistful smile on his lips as he considered how to describe her. “She's enigmatic and larger than life. The only woman I've ever loved.”
“Sir?” I blinked up at him in surprise before dropping my gaze yet again. I hadn’t intended my reaction to be quite that pronounced, but it had already been noted and documented by the gentleman sitting across from me.
“That surprises you?” He laughed, slowly filling his plate and pouring me a mug of coffee from the carafe.
“My apologies, Sir.”
“Don't be silly, sweetheart. I've never told a living soul that before, let alone her. When I refer to the love of my life, she thinks I'm talking about Henry's mother.”
I wanted to look up at him. I wanted to read his expression, but I kept my eyes on my plate, trimming off a small piece of sausage and placing it on my tongue so I wouldn't say something out of turn.
“I was much older than her when we met, as you know, and I fought so hard to ignore how I felt. The night she found me in my dungeon, I almost cried with relief. The jealousy in her eyes was more than I could have hoped for and she was so eager to learn.”
I remembered my own eagerness and considered what it would have been like to learn under someone you trusted so implicitly – someone you loved. I hadn't had that luxury, not until I'd met Mistress Kayla and given myself to her, so Charles’ story intrigued me. I had questions, so many questions about Mistress Kayla, the lifestyle and how he managed to hide it for so many years, but it was impolite to ask and I hadn’t been given permission to speak freely, so all I could do was wait and feed from the scraps he fed me.
“I'd known from the beginning what she was, but I selfishly kept up her training as a submissive. I was unable to let her go, and she just wanted to be with me. She fought her own nature for me and I was intoxicated with that power and love. Do you know what made me set her free?”
I shook my head, swallowing what I had in my mouth before responding. “No, Sir.”
“Love. I loved her too much to keep her caged up.”
My heart bled for him. I couldn't imagine letting go of that kind of love. Mistress Kayla was fiercely loyal and reserved. Earning her love was like a writer winning the Pulitzer Prize. It was the highest honor. Then again, maybe Charles was the reason she was so guarded with her heart, too afraid to let someone possess it in fear of getting hurt again.
“I still see her on occasion, when the world gets too much and the small part of her that holds on to the submissive mentality needs to be broken. That is my greatest pleasure in life, those small moments where she and I lock ourselves in my dungeon and work out the want between us.”
Why was he telling me this? There was a reason Mistress Kayla hadn't told me this herself and without her consent, I didn't want to know, even when the curiosity burned like a candle in the dark. It wasn't as though this information made me feel less about her or see her in a different light, at least not in terms of our relationship. It gave this woman – who was part mystery – more depth, but she was still Mistress Kayla. Just with a more comprehensive understanding of the punishments and pleasure she gave out. I, perhaps more than anyone, understood her need to be broken. Even the strongest of us needed those moments.
I continued eating slowly, my mind turning over the information and trying to find those points when she would have needed him. Those nights she'd disappeared and hidden her body from me. There was only one recent instance that really lingered at the back of my mind. It was the night before she was due to go out of town and wasn't taking me with her.
“You've just found the most recent one, haven't you?”
I felt the blush rise to my cheeks, my head ducking further until my chin touched my chest. I hated being transparent at times like these. I was embarrassed about trying to find those memories. It was just proving that it had gotten under my skin.
“Yes, Sir.”
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, but I'm a silly old man who watches and digests. Have you pieced together the why behind it?”
I derailed my brain from digging into what had happened in the days leading up to that night. I didn't enjoy the way it made me feel.
“Kit, look at me.”
No matter how much I didn't want to, my eyes lifted at the buried command in his tone.
“I'm not doing this to make you uncomfortable. That's far from my intention. I'm just trying to make you see that, no matter how confident and ineffable someone seems, they're far from perfect.”
“You're referring to Jared, Sir?”
He gave me a curt nod and a tight smile. It wasn't that he thought his grandson was weak. I could see the pride shining through the sadness in his eyes. I was trying so hard to find a link between what he'd said and what he was having trouble saying aloud. It was about that time that the light bulb went on.
“You promised him you wouldn't say anything, didn't you, Sir?”
“I don't want to go against my word, but I want you to be prepared.”
Prepared for what? A weakness? It wouldn't have mattered to me. I had a lot of respect for Jared figuring out who he was, even now, after he'd already been polluted by twisted versions of right and wrong. He'd dug deeply enough to admit to himself that he was different, and whatever he needed to do to process that, I wasn't going to judge him.