Ms. Domme

Chapter Eight

"I fucking love Chinese food."

I chuckled at her enthusiasm as she dove into her plate of fried rice. Seeing her smile today brought on a newfound emotion that I couldn't quite place. Anyway, it was good to see her happy again. It had been a week after our escapade in the shower (and on the bed....then the floor) where I found her brittle, raw emotions more exposed than I had ever seen. She had barely smiled, barely talked. Her distance was killer and I did everything a could to make it better.

I rubbed the bend of my elbow, massaging the puncture-ridden scarred area. "I know you do, heh." I peered at this beautiful woman with heavy eyes; the fatigue from earlier catching up to me. My collar was discarded on the couch a few paces from where we ate. She had kept my tongue on lockdown for a while now; but I was patient enough to wait until she was ready. Finally, I was allowed to speak freely.

"Kyra?" She looked up, chewing slowly on a shrimp. I had her attention; gorgeous round eyes looking so innocent. She hummed in responce. "I wanted to talk about last wednesday." The gears were almost physically noticeable turning in her head.

She swallowed. "What about...?"

I took a breath. I could see the fear in her eyes. Of what, I haven't the slightest idea. The only thing I did know what that I hated that look. "Kyra, there is absolutely nothing that needs to be professional. For me. You know that. You know why I am here; why I vowed to serve you until you chose otherwise. I am here because of you, for you.

And I want you to be able to trust me completely just as I have you. I-I hate finding you the way I did Tuesday night. And Wednesday...... Kyra, you were so cold to me." She visibly stiffened as I said that. I knew I had struck a nerve, but it needed to be done. "I hate seeing you like that; I know from experience what it's like to shut people out. Look what good it did me." I gestured to the bend of my elbow. "You know what happened. You saw it, for fuck's sake. And I won't sit around and let you do something similar."

"Lawrence...." Her eyes fell from mine. She disregarded the food in front of her, and the happy expression fell from her face.

"Kyra, please. I don't say this to upset you-"

"To upset me? I highly doubt it." Her stern voice cut me off with the acid drip of sarcasm. She glared a hole into my head.

I was cautious. "Mistress..." Kyra sighed, picking up her fork and shuffling the rice around.

"Alright, alright." Her eyes shot up to meet mine. "I didn't mean to seem cold, Lawrence. As for the professional thing; you know why I keep it that way."

Why you shut me out. "I understand that you aren't comfortable being over-personally involved. I just don't really see how there is such a thing at this point."

Kyra looked quizzically. "What do you mean?"

Her hair draped lazily over her shoulder, brushing below her collar bone. I wished that I could tuck it behind her ear. "What I mean is," I began, "that I have given you all of me. I trust you with every fiber of my being. You got me into rehab; you helped me get out of the shitty situation I was in.

I want to be able to return the favor. I want to help, Kyra. It's blatantly obvious that whatever is going on back at home is bothering you. I need to know more so I can take the steps to help you." Before I coukd catch myself, my hand reached across the table and clasped hers.

Her breath hitched. Sharp green eyes studied me; peering deep within the cracks and crevices of my brain. After a moment, I felt her fingers weave themselved with mine; a thumb lazily caressing the arc of my hand.

"Ok."

I broke into a smile and, surprisingly, she did, too. "Thank you, Mistress."

She blinked slowly. "Anything, Lawrence."

"Anything." I repeated. She continued eating for a moment while her hand still rested in mine. I continued as well. Thank God.