Starting now.
I motion to her plate. “Are you finished?”
She frowns. “You’re not going to press me for more information?”
I desperately want to, but even I know when to stop a frontal assault and flank my opponent. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
I thought so. “There’s your answer. Now, answer my question.”
“I’m finished.” She pushes the plate away.
“Come along.” I gather the plates and head into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink. Then I lead the way down the hall to the playroom. “Close the door behind you.”
She obeys without a word, which just reconfirms that she’s nowhere near her normal state of mind. A sliver of worry stabs me, and I look at her again. I had intense plans for the night, but for the first time, I’m not sure if they’re the right ones. I don’t want to make her feel worse. I want to offer her the escape she so obviously craves. “What do you need?”
Aurora blinks. “What?”
“Aurora.” I inject some censure into my tone.
“Right. You hate repeating yourself.” Her lips pull up a little at the edges. “You’ve repeated that several times over the last couple days.”
There she is. I cross my arms over my chest and raise a brow. Waiting.
Finally, she sighs. “I don’t know what I need. I’m all tangled up inside, and everything seems complicated and wrong.” When I don’t immediately respond, she stares at the floor and seems to steel herself. “I can’t… I can’t cry. I haven’t been able to since…” Her breath catches. “It feels like it’s all bottled up inside me. I need to let it out.”
I have the strangest desire to go to her and wrap my arms around her. I already know she won’t accept comfort in that way, but I have more tools available to me. Aurora needs me to break down her defenses until all those feelings she’s been avoiding come rushing through. To lance the wound.
I can do that.
“Take off your clothes.”
She obeys instantly, fumbling in her haste to divest herself of the sweater dress. She seems to make herself pause and take the time to fold it and set it carefully on the floor by the door. Then she comes and stands before me, her hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed.
I feather my fingers over her temple. “I think the cane will work nicely tonight.”
She shivers and wets her lips. “Thank you, Mistress.”
For the first time possibly ever I want to tear away the veil of kink and just have a fucking conversation. I want to hold her and comfort her and let her cry it out. But that isn’t what Aurora needs, and I’m the only one who can provide her with a way to purge her emotions.
“Go to the bench and bend over it.”
She obeys instantly, crossing to the spanking bench and gracefully bending her body over it. I allow myself to look at her for a long moment, to see the way she’s already shaking, just a little. It’s all I need to get myself under control. I can’t afford to be distracted right now, to let my emotions slip their leash. Tonight is about Aurora, and that’s the way it needs to be.
I stride to the wardrobe and select a cane, a paddle about the width of my hand, and my favorite strap-on. It’s orange and wickedly curved—one of my favorites because it specifically strokes the G-spot. After a quick internal debate, I take a few moments to step into it and get it situated around my hips. I doubt I’ll want to pause to do it once I get going.
I take up a position behind Aurora and stroke my hand over her ass. “I’m not going to tie you down tonight. You’ve chosen this, and so you’re going to be a good girl and stay perfectly still while I beat you.” Her muscles tense beneath my hand, and I give her a light smack. “And then I’m going to fuck you. Understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good.” I don’t ask her safe word this time. We both know it, and I have no intention of pushing her anywhere near her limit. This is a delicate dance that I excel at, and I will thread the needle between too much pain and too much pleasure with Aurora tonight. Enough to shatter her, but not enough to break her.
I don’t relish the challenge as much as I might have in the past. How can I when I’m actually worried about her? I want to be the one to give her whatever comfort she’ll allow, but I’m achingly aware of how easily this could go wrong.
She’s using me. She has been since the beginning. The knowledge didn’t bother me before, and I’m not sure it bothers me now, but there’s no escaping it either way. No matter what I want, I’m not certain we have a future. I don’t think there’s an answer to that question available until Aurora deals with her grief.