Charlotte fixed her gaze on his shadow. She waited for it to move, waited to hear the sound of his footsteps making their way across the room and to see his feet walking into her field of vision.
“I do not break my word, pet. The room is yours for as long as you wish.” The shadow shrank. He sat down in the doorway.
She risked a glance at her master. He sat side on, the hallway light spilled across his face, making his expression very easy to read. He looked concerned, but he didn’t appear angry with her recent behaviour.
“That is because I am not angry.”
She closed her eyes. So many things bubbled up inside her, things she desperately wanted to say to him, but couldn’t. Things a submissive could never say to her master.
“I have never told you to keep your thoughts from me, Charlotte.”
“You never told me I wouldn’t have the choice either.” The words snapped in the air. It was not the way a good submissive spoke to her master. She flinched and fixed her gaze even more firmly on the carpet.
“Even good submissives get upset,” he said.
She shook her head, but even she didn’t know if the action was directed at him or herself. “You should have told me,” she whispered, unable to keep the accusation out of her tone.
“Such blood bonds are very rare among my people.”
Charlotte threw caution to the wind. She looked up at her master and met his gaze. “But you knew it was a possibility. You knew there was a chance this would happen.”
“Yes, I knew,” he said very calmly.
“You didn’t think it was something I needed to know before I agreed to all of this?” She waved a hand at him, herself, the room, and the whole situation.
Her fingers trembled. She snatched her hand back and wrapped her arms around her body again. He’d made such a show of explaining to her exactly how things would be if she accepted a vampire as her master. He’d talked about dominance and submission, about the bite and the feeding. How could he have failed to mention the most important thing of all?
“I would not have wished you to be disappointed if the bond didn’t take,” he told her.
Charlotte laughed. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she frantically tried to force the mirth down. Her whole body shook. She couldn’t even tell if it was from giggles or sobs. She shook her head. Hysteria could not happen. She couldn’t let her master watch her mind fall apart that way.
“Charlotte?”
She glanced in his general direction.
Can’t do this.
“I want you to reach behind you. There’s a blanket folded up at the base of the bed. Pull the blanket down onto the floor and wrap it around you.”
She wound her arms more firmly around her middle. Another shiver wracked her body. “I’m not cold.”
“Humour me anyway, little pet?” he requested.
She bit her lip and thought about the matter very carefully.
Zachariah held his breath. If she was willing to trust an order he issued, they still had a chance of resolving this mess today.
Charlotte looked over her shoulder and considered the blanket. Very slowly, she reached up and pulled it down onto the floor. With meticulous attention to detail, she wrapped it around her body. She was still shaking from shock, but she looked warmer.
Zachariah tried to remember what one was were supposed to do with a human in shock. Hot, sweet tea rang a bell, but humans seemed to think it was a cure for so many ills he couldn’t be sure of its effectiveness.
He couldn’t be sure of his pet’s thoughts either. They swirled around so fast he couldn’t make sense of them. All he knew was she was truly afraid of him for the first time since she came under his protection.
She finished tucking the blanket around her.
“Good girl.”
Not good enough.
Zachariah frowned. Whatever else happened, he would have to find a way to read nouns and pronouns from her mind. He didn’t know if he wasn’t good enough or she thought she wasn’t good enough or if there was something else entirely going on in Charlotte’s mind.
“Who is not good enough?” he asked.
She clamped her hands over her ears as if it would stop the thoughts seeping out of her mind. “Please don’t do that,” She begged. Stop! Red!
He sat very still and said nothing. He couldn’t stop anything now. Not even for Charlotte. Not even for her safe word. He sat outside her room and watched his pet hurting and he couldn’t do anything to ease her pain.
She squeezed her eyes tight shut. Her hands remained fixed over her ears. Her breaths came hard and fast. Panic rushed through her in waves.
Not strong enough. Can’t do this. Not good enough.
All her other thoughts faded away until those were the only ones left.
Not strong enough. Can’t do this. Not good enough.
“Can you stop it?” she whispered out loud.
The desperate little plea tore into his soul. He didn’t respond until she opened her eyes and uncovered her ears, in the vain hope it would make it easier for them to communicate.
While he waited a tempting thought snuck into his mind. Lie. She would never know. She couldn’t feel him read her thoughts. He could keep doing it. All he needed to do was be more subtle about his reactions. He could fix everything with one tiny little lie.
Zachariah met Charlotte’s eyes across the room. He saw her desperation and forced himself to keep her gaze. He couldn’t lie to her. “No, my pet,” he admitted, “I can’t stop it.”
“What if you stop feeding from me? Will that stop it?” she asked.
He shook his head.
Forever?
“Forever,” he agreed, unable to see it as the life sentence she obviously feared.
She closed her eyes.
Every mistake.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“What what means?” she asked.
“Every mistake—I don’t know what that means.”
She looked down at the blanket. Picking at the fabric she stayed silent for a long time before she finally answered him in a tiny little whisper. “You’ll know every time I make a mistake.”
Zachariah frowned, hearing the fear in her voice but not understanding what he’d ever done to make her so afraid of him.
“I know submissives shouldn’t make mistakes, I shouldn’t make mistakes,” she said softly as her fingers folded the edge of the blankets into little pleats. “But I do. Lots.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, little pet. I’ve never known you to…” he trailed off as she shook her head vehemently, sending her hair swirling around her face.
“Not out loud. Inside my head. I don’t think about things the way a submissive should. I’m selfish and sarcastic and I forget to put my master first and I…” she let the creases fall from the blanket. “I’m not good enough for this sort of submission, master. You have to find another submissive. You have to find someone who can think about things the right way for you. You have to make it stop. You-”
“Charlotte.”
His interruption stopped the sudden flow of words. Her eyes flickered up to his for the briefest moment.
“I am not asking you to have sex with me or to submit to me, or anything else, but I would like you to either invite me into your room or to come here.”
Charlotte bit her lip. She looked over the expanse of carpet separating them. “Is it easier for you to read my mind if I am closer?” she asked warily.
“No—but I want you closer anyway.”
She looked across the divide again.
Zachariah forced himself to be still and patient and he realised that, just for a few minutes, he had to do what she did every hour of every day. She seemed so still and peaceful in her submission. Now he wondered if it could be natural for any person to always wait on someone else’s pleasure the way she did.
“It’s your house. There’s nothing stopping you coming in here if you want to,” she po
inted out.
“It is your home—you have a right to a private space in it,” he told her. “And I gave you my word.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Submissives don’t have spaces.”
Only space inside head.
“Those might be one of your old master’s rules, Charlotte, but they are not mine. You can have as much space as you want. If you find this room suitable, it is yours—and I won’t enter it without your permission. If it is not suitable, I will find another space for you that is.”
She wrapped the blanket more firmly around her shoulders. Zachariah thought that was all the movement she would give him, but after another few moments’ contemplation, his pet slowly rose and walked across the room.
She sat down on the floor next to him, just leaving an inch or two of carpet between them. She didn’t reach out for him. Nothing changed for several minutes. Her swirling thoughts did little to help Zachariah help her. He resorted to his old method of watching her body language.
Charlotte was slowly bringing herself back under her conscious control. Her breaths began to rise and fall more evenly, the shivers were less severe. The tears dried from her eyes until only the lingering track marks on her cheeks remained to testify to her distress.
“I will try to think more appropriately,” she offered. Each word enunciated very calmly, very carefully.
“The way you think now is fine.” He corrected her as gently as he knew how, but Charlotte didn’t seem to hear him.
“And I will accept whatever punishment you see fit when I fail, when I think inappropriate things,” Charlotte went on, obviously very pleased with her plan. “And that will make things better,” she announced with obviously forced certainty.
She nodded to herself again and looked up at him through her lashes, eager for his reassurance.
Better?
He didn’t even know how to answer her. For all the vampire’s superior strength, he was helpless faced with Charlotte’s pain.
The bond between them was a good thing. It wasn’t a problem that needed to be fixed. He couldn’t pretend he thought otherwise. He didn’t have the words to stop his love hurting.
Right at that moment, when she sat on the floor, tear stained and crumpled, Zachariah realised he was in love with his pet. The knowledge did nothing to help him solve the problem, it only made it ever more vital he should solve it perfectly.
He held out a hand to her. Charlotte looked at his palm for a long time before she hesitantly put her hand in it. He tugged gently at her fingers and coaxed her to come right to the edge of the room, so only the invisible line of the doorway separated them. He offered her a place close to his side, within the strong curve of his arm.
Charlotte leaned cautiously into his body, obviously not entirely sure of her welcome. As her mind calmed and he managed to make more sense of her feelings, he realised he read the situation imperfectly. Charlotte wasn’t sure if she deserved to be welcomed back to her master’s side.
He held her closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Safe.
“Yes, pet,” he told her, “you are safe now. Your master has you safe.”
She wriggled a little in his embrace, fighting the instinct for flight the moment he quoted her thoughts. Zachariah knew he should have been more careful, more subtle about his reading of her, but her thoughts called out to him so strongly, it was impossible to remember she wasn’t whispering into his mind on purpose.
“I am sorry for making such a fuss,” Charlotte whispered out loud.
“Hush,” he chided.
“I will accept the punishment.”
“There is no punishment.”
Charlotte nodded her understanding.
Any hope Zachariah held of that piece of information reassuring her faded away. If anything, Charlotte only became more tense within the circle of his arms.
“Does my master want to…?”
She trailed off, obviously not sure if it was appropriate to offer her body to him right then.
Zachariah stared into her eyes, but he couldn’t tell if she wanted to know if her reaction to the bond killed off his desire for her, or if she was still thinking about ways he might punish her.
“You wish to know if we will have sex, little pet? Yes, we will.”
Before he could finish off his thoughts on the subject, she nodded.
Now?
He half smiled at the enthusiasm. The very fact she wanted to have sex with him, eased some of the worry in his mind. She couldn’t be incurably scared of him or the bond, if she was willing to fall so quickly into his bed. He still pushed away the temptation to agree.
“Patience,” he told both her and himself. “We still have other things to discuss, don’t we?”
Don’t want to.
A trace of pout made it through the bond. Zachariah grinned over the top of her head as Charlotte curled closer against his side, pressing her bare skin against his clothes under the blanket.
He let her do as she pleased, merely keeping his one arm around her to hold her close. Charlotte’s hand trailed across his body to rest high on the inside of his thigh, right against the line of his shaft. As if by accident she brushed her fingers against him, shifting his trousers so the material rubbed against his cock and made him swell.
She kissed his shoulder. “Would master like…?”
“Your master would like,” he agreed wholeheartedly. “I would like a great deal. But we will still talk, Charlotte.”
Without retreating far enough to lose physical contact, she pulled away mentally. He watched her and waited for her verdict. She parted her lips to speak, but stopped herself short. Closing her mouth, she glanced briefly into his eyes.
Want me?
He stroked her hair. “I always want you. Don’t you know that, little pet?”
Now?
All her emotions poured across the bond. His pet wanted her master to want her so badly.
Temptation was easy to avoid when he thought it would make their fragile understanding crumble around them. When there was the chance that holding her close and burying himself inside her body could make things better, when there was a chance everything could be cured with pleasure, he didn’t know how to resist.
“This will not fix anything, Charlotte,” he reminded her as gently as he could.
“I understand, master.”
He wasn’t entirely sure she did understand. Something in the bond really thought sex would make everything better. He didn’t know if the idea came from Charlotte or from the bond itself, but he didn’t have any better ideas himself. Zachariah tilted her face up and brushed their mouths together. She instantly parted her lips for him.
Want?
“Yes, pet. I want you. Right now.”
She offered a sweet little smile up to him.
He studied the bond as carefully as he knew how. All he sensed was she wanted this just as much as he did. Her hand slid up his body to rest in the middle of his chest. He saw the bruise circling her wrist and traced the line with his fingers.
Zachariah stood and held out his hand. Charlotte took it and followed him out of the room. He paused as they crossed the threshold.
“Put your blanket back in your room,” he told her. “We already have plenty in our room.”
She glanced at him.
Angry?
“Why would I be angry?”
She hesitated before she finally answered him. “It wasn’t a demand. I didn’t mean to ask for my own room, it just, I don’t know, I…”
“It is good for you to have your own space.”
She shook her head.
With you.
He stroked her hair back from her face. “It’s not one or the other. You don’t have to give up your place with me just because you have your own room.”
Charlotte turned away from her master. She walked across the room and put the blanket neatly back on the bed, carefully smoothing out the creases. He felt her make a deci
sion. He felt the commitment to her decision pour across the bond.
Guest room.
The thought shouted across the bond and Zachariah realised she was attempting to project the thought out to him, hoping he would pick it up. As soon as they were back in the master bedroom she turned her face up to him, offering her lips to be kissed.
“Tell me what you want, little pet,” he ordered.
“Whatever my master—” He put his finger over her lips, stealing the rest of the words.
“I don’t want to hear those words from you again, Charlotte. If I ask you what you want, it is because I want to know what you want.”
“A punishment,” she whispered.
“Pardon?”
“Please, will you punish me, master?” she asked softly.
Deserve to be punished.
Zachariah frowned down at her. “And how do you think your master would punish you?”
Her discomfort with his questioning poured across the bond, but he had to know what sort of cruelty his pet thought him capable of.
“It is not my place to decide the punishment,” she hedged.
The words flowed straight past his ears. His mind honed in on another softer whisper.
Spanking.
It took all his effort not to repeat the word out loud when it came through to him so very clearly. Then all the confusion and the guilt the whisper brought with it flooded into the bond.
Zachariah closed his eyes and let her whisper the truth to him with words she would never say out loud.
He opened his eyes. “You don’t have to feel guilty about enjoying a spanking.”
Charlotte looked at him, fear of his ability to read how she felt about the possibility clear in her eyes.
“It is nothing to feel guilty about,” he repeated.
“A punishment is not effective if the submissive enjoys it. I should not enjoy displeasing my master,” she said just as firmly.
He stroked her cheek. “And what if it is not a punishment? What if the spanking is play?”
She glanced up at him through the lashes, uncertainty radiating off her.
Night of the Senses Page 33