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He chuckled. "Hi there, brat. How are you feeling?"
She blinked slowly, her long lashes grazing the skin beneath her eyes and waited a beat before answering. "I feel funny, but good. Tired, but awake. Sad, but happy. Sore, but numb."
Oh yeah. She had definitely reached subspace.
She smiled at him and caressed the bed beside her. "Come nap with me."
"Not so fast." He fluffed the pillows and propped her up against them. "You need water, and you haven't eaten breakfast yet."
"I'm not thirsty. Or hungry. Only happy, and sleepy."
"Too bad." He walked away, and snagged a bottle of water, a banana, and two ibuprofen from the kitchenette area. He unscrewed the top from the water bottle and handed it to her, dropping the pills into her other hand. "Take these."
She looked at them confused, and back at him. "Are you trying to drug me? I think that's against the rules."
"It's ibuprofen," he scoffed. “Put it in your mouth and swallow. When the numbness wears off, you’re going to be a sore little pet."
"Yeah." She smiled, and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I was naughty. But that was so funny."
"Hilarious," he deadpanned. "Take the pills. Drink the water."
She was so beautiful and so baffling. He watched her drink, knowing he needed to put distance between them and yet before he knew it, he was sitting on the bed beside her, rubbing her back as if further contact between them came without consequences.
"Why did you do it?" he asked. It was mind-boggling to think that any one of the heroes in his books would have known exactly, instinctively, what was wrong with her. In his place, they'd right now be doing the or saying the perfect thing to cut right to the meat and marrow of all her 'whys' and this scene would probably end in hot sex.
What a difference reality made. This wasn’t a book, and he certainly was not a character, flawlessly written to take charge of this. Or her.
He wished he knew what had made her act out. Because suddenly, all he could think was perhaps the weekend hadn't been as great as he thought. Maybe she'd acted out because this was the last day and he hadn’t yet come close to pushing the boundaries, as she had asked for.
"On a scale from one to ten," he asked, "how satisfied are you right now with the scene you just received?"
Questions like this, although entirely appropriate, were usually reserved for well after she came down from her high or even the next day.
"Ten," she sighed, rolling onto her stomach.
He saw the wince as she straightened her legs, but even so, her expression was euphoric. He didn’t believe she was lying, regardless of whether he'd let her come.
So… why?
He opened his mouth to rephrase but stopped when he couldn't think of any way to ask what he already asked other than the way he'd already phrased it. Seriously, 'are you content,' pretty much said it all. She had said yes: every inch of her looked like she meant it.
That left him with only one alternative that he could see, and that was that his first assessment of the situation had been right. She had wanted to take control. Maybe she was topping from the bottom, or maybe she figured it was her last day and her last chance to let her inner brat out with someone she felt safe playing with.
He hoped that was it. He'd liked playing with her. Truthfully, he'd enjoyed it a lot, and he didn't want to even think that she might be walking away from this with anything less than a weekend's worth of toe-curling memories far more worth masturbating to than anything he'd yet written about in one of his books.
Her eyes were closed now, her smile slowly fading as she drifted from the floaty high of subspace down into sleep.
His hand hesitated a moment. He'd already taken so many liberties, far beyond what felt safe for him. He couldn't even imagine trying to go to work with her tomorrow and yet have to do it, keeping her at arm's reach. Already it was impossible just to tell himself no as he again caressed a lock of hair back from her forehead, then bent to press another gentle kiss upon her brow. "Kitten?"
She roused, but only a little and not enough even to open her eyes. "Yes, Daddy?"
"Make me a promise."
She nodded. "I promise," she sighed, and laid back down.
He chuckled. "No, look at me, baby girl." He waited until she complied, blinking blearily the whole time. He made a mental note to remind her of this conversation at his very first opportunity. "I want you to promise me, if you experience any sort of sub drop tomorrow or the next day, or even if it happens a week from now, you need to come tell me so I can take care of it. Got it?"
"Yes, Daddy." She nodded again, her eyes already closing again, her body wilting back into the bedding. "I promise. Cross my heart… hope to die…"
He smiled; pretty sure it wouldn't come to that. Brushing her hair back again, he couldn’t resist giving her another soft kiss. Then, he joined her on the bed, and pulled her into his arms.
