Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(74)

“What?” As he gazed down at her, unhappiness lined his face.

Misery filled her. Now she’d made him feel bad, and he’d done nothing wrong. This was all her fault.

“Kitten,” he said softly. “I don’t think there has been a moment since we met that I haven’t wanted you. I know you didn’t appreciate the way you looked carrying a baby, but I thought we’d gotten past that.”

Oh God, why did she have to be so insecure? “You did; we did.” Because during those months of pregnancy, she’d seen herself in his eyes, seen how beautiful she was with his child growing within her. How much in awe he felt. “But, now…” She bit her lip, unable to continue.

With his hand against her cheek, he tilted her face up. His warmth seeped into her; his control sapped her resistance. “Tell me.”

“I’m not carrying a baby, and I’m huge and…and saggy and—”

He shook his head ruefully, then took her hand and set it on his groin. On his very, very, very thick erection. “Does that feel as if I don’t want you?”

Heat swept through her as she caressed him. She wanted him inside her, wanted—

His gaze met hers and oh, boy, he was still in Master-space. “How long have you been worrying about this?” he asked, way too softly.

She swallowed with difficulty. “Since…” Since the day she saw her stomach in the mirror after Sophia was born. “A while now.”

“I. See.” Slowly, he lifted her hands and secured them above her head again. His strong fingers easily held both her wrists. “Did we have an agreement that you would tell me when you were feeling insecure?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But you were pulling away.” Her anger flared back to life. “You weren’t even holding me at night.”

“True. I wasn’t.” He actually chuckled. “Jessica, I’ve needed you so badly that I feared I’d take you in my sleep.”

Z didn’t lie. Z never lied. A heady cocktail of warmth and relief seeped into her veins. He hadn’t been trying to move away from her.

With a half-smile, he caressed her cheek. “All right. This gives us a place to start.”

Start. Start didn’t sound good. “What do you mean?” Marrying a psychologist had been a really bad move. What had she been thinking?

“We’ll keep talking about your worries. I daresay the long period without any intimacy made your fears worse than they might have been.”

She could only nod.

“However, I want a daily report from you for the next, say, month.”

When she started to scowl, his eyes darkened and turned her willpower into mush. “But, I don’t like journaling.”

“I know, pet. We’ll work something out. Perhaps a spreadsheet. Color-coordinated, with a rating system. How you feel about your body. How you think I see you. A scale of one-to-ten. With notes on the side.”

Hmm. This is do-able. She could total the results and average them weekly and do a graph to track if…

His eyes had lit with amusement.

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Actually, I’m in love with you,” he said softly. “And glad to have my Jessica back.”

“Oh.” How much more could she love him?

His kiss started gentle and turned forceful enough that she could see he really was holding himself back. And wasn’t that a rush? She pulled at his hands, wanting to touch him.

He released her, but straightened out of her reach. Gripping her upper arms, he sat her up on the bed.

She looked at him, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Rather than answering, he opened his bedside stand and withdrew a…a mini-flogger with seven inch falls.

Oh no. Sure, the tiny flogger looked all innocuous, but it didn’t feel so innocent on tender bits…like a *.

“What’s that for? Am I being punished?” she protested.

“Before everything can flow smoothly, we have some clearing away to do—think of it like a blockage in a riverbed.” He handed her the flogger and rolled his right sleeve up past his elbow before holding his arm toward her, forearm bared.

“What are you doing?” She pulled back.

“Since I’m not going to let you anywhere near my cock with a flogger, I want you to hit my arm. You will continue until you’ve given me a nice set of welts.”

Her heart dropped right into her stomach, and not in a good way. “No.” No, no, no. “M-Master, I can’t.”

“You can and will. Hopefully, next time, I’ll hear the words you aren’t saying. Or you will trust me enough to say them. I failed you as your Master,” he said gravely.

“You didn’t,” she whispered.

In answer, he tapped his forearm. “Now, please.”

Her first attempt barely stroked his skin and earned her an unyielding look.

Her second wasn’t much better.

His lips curved slightly. “We’ll continue this all night, if need be, pet.”

The sense of his strength wrapping around her made her eyes fill. “I love you, Master.”

“I know, kitten.” He glanced at his arm and lifted his eyebrows.

She hit him. At the cruel sound of the strands slapping skin, she cringed.