Had she had one since? Being on birth control pills, she was always on time. She visualized the packet…she was days into the blank pills. Days late. Dismay seized her.
No…no. The lateness must be due to stress. Or something. Anything.
She’d made a sound for Ben’s arms tightened. “Anne? Was I too rough?”
Rough? She tried a laugh and succeeded. He hadn’t been too forceful, but perhaps too potent? Oh God. “No. No, you were amazing. Wonderful.” She rubbed her cheek on his palm, feeling the structure of her life start to shred.
Pushing her worries away was similar to rolling a boulder uphill, but she managed. She’d figure out what was…going on…later. Ben had been amazing. And she’d taken him pretty deep during the flogging. He needed her full attention and some pampering.
Her own concerns would have to wait.
As Anne led the way out of the private rooms upstairs, Ben’s back burned from the flogger. His asshole was tender, although the plug was gone. He shook his head. He’d hated having to admit that the anal jobbie had ignited every fucking nerve he had.
The good Mistress had known exactly what it would do.
He’d come so violently, it was a wonder his head hadn’t blown off.
Anne stopped at the head of the spiral stairs and tucked an arm around his waist. “Are you all right, my tiger?” Her heavy-lidded eyes assessed him, tallying his resources in the way he’d done with his team before taking them into enemy territory.
Although she was unusually quiet, her smile showed her pleasure in him. She’d enjoyed getting him off and didn’t hesitate to let him know.
“I’m more than good.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her hair was still damp from her shower—which she’d needed. She’d come as hard as he had, another thing he loved about her. No pretenses, no bullshit. She liked sex and wasn’t afraid to show it.
Smiling, he put an arm around her shoulders, needing her close. He’d never felt so much for a woman before, as if more than his body and emotions were bound to her.
“So. Did you enjoy your rough sex or…?” She lifted an eyebrow.
Or did he prefer her in charge? “I liked grabbing and taking over—as a change of pace.” He grinned. “I’m a guy; we live to hammer things. But…” The notion of her not ruling in the bedroom, not giving him orders in her throaty voice, not putting her stilettoed heel on his chest or even his balls, made him uncomfortable. As if he’d dropped his compass and GPS unit and had no stars with which to navigate. “I’m yours to command, Ma’am, and I prefer it that way.”
“I’m pleased as well.”
“And thank you, Mistress, for the treat today.” He kissed the top of her head and murmured, “All of the treats.”
Her smile held tenderness and enough caring that his heart seemed to expand within the confines of his ribcage. And yet…her eyes were vulnerable. Almost confused. His protective instincts surged to the fore.
“What’s wrong?” He started to step back.
She didn’t answer, just pulled his head down and took his mouth right there on the stairs. Her kiss was so abso-fucking-loving, her Mistress rep might well be endangered.
Or enhanced.
Fuck, he didn’t think he could fall for her further, but apparently so.
When she released him, he didn’t straighten, but smiled into her eyes. “I could use a drink if the Mistress would permit?”
“Of course. Let’s see what Cullen can round up.”
Something else he enjoyed. She didn’t deny him something just to be bitchy. Although she sure pushed that protocol shit.
The trouble was she didn’t change when she left the Shadowlands or the bedroom. When the sex was over and done, she still held the reins, and he wasn’t so sure he liked that.
Out in the field, when in reach of the enemy, he’d always wanted the chain of command clear. Wanted no questions as to who was in charge. But back at base or on leave? No.
“Uzuri,” Anne said as they walked past the trainee. “Can you bring us drinks, please? A beer for Ben, water for me. And some of the less messy finger foods?”
“Of course, Mistress Anne.”
As Uzuri glided toward the bar, Ben lifted his eyebrows. “No alcohol for you, Ma’am?”
“Since you hit subspace, I’m designated driver,” she said quietly. “And I’m tired enough that alcohol wouldn’t be wise.” One dimple dented her cheek. “You have so many muscles that it takes a long time to flog them all.”
She knew just how to make a man feel fucking pumped up.