“That’s the way of it.” And really there was no other explanation I could make. I wasn’t his wife. But I couldn’t stay, not like he was thinking, and I don’t think he really wanted me to. “I sort of like having you in my bed.”
“You’re my Master,” I smiled back. “Is that right?” He stroked my hair and sighed a little. Lie back down, Dare,” my Master told me after he’d shown the doctor out. He kissed my breasts, sucking and teasing my nipples while I writhed and cradled his head. Master barely let me out of bed for the first week, and I really was pretty sick then anyway. The tightness of the waistband around my body chafed my skin. I’d risk getting sick again. Not about my body, which he said was remarkable, but more over my mind, I suppose. “I don’t want to go back,” I answered, wondering why I would ever want to leave him or my brothers. He’d been trying to make up for that other woman, caring for me while I’d lain there sick in his bed. “I love you, Dare,” he told me and it surprised me to hear him say that. He also found that remarkable, but not in an admirable way, not like he appreciated my body.
