Chapter 64

I wake the following morning in my own bed. I tucked Angel into her bed last night and then left the room, refusing to give in to her look of desire. I needed time to think.
I stared into the darkness until the early morning hours, when fog finally overtook my thoughts and I passed out. I'm worried about Angel's nightmares, but I didn't wake to her screams, so I figured the sleeping arrangement worked.
I roll over and place my bad leg on the floor. When my foot brushes something soft, I glance down and see a pillow where Angel's beautiful head rests with the remainder of her body on the floor.
Damn.
I can't lift her to the bed with my bad knee, so I take hold of the end of her hair and give it a few gentle tugs. "I have an angel fish on my line." It's corny, but her tender, sleepy smile makes me happy I went for teasing.
"I could not sleep," she says sleepily.
God, she's so gorgeous my chest has heavy pressure right in the center. "We'll need to work on that," I tease again and pull upward, drawing her up onto the bed. She comes willingly, and when she kneels beside me, I lift the bottom of her nightgown, pulling it over her head with a flourish. Delectable white, lacy underwear covers her pussy, and it's hard not to lick my lips.
I look into her eyes. "I don't mind the long gowns but your pussy will be bare. I want to know it's uncovered and only one layer away. Do you understand?"
She shakes her head eagerly. "Yes, Zack."
"Take it off."
She slips off the panties and tosses them on the floor. My hands move to her breasts. "Monroe is quite strict with his subs, but for some reason, you, his slave, seem to be completely untrained in a master-slave relationship." This may or may not be true and I say it in teasing.
Now her face takes on a stricken expression. "No, Zack."
I pinch her nipples, offering just a touch of pain. "Ah," she breathes.
"So, you are telling me you behave with Monroe but forget your training when you are with me?" I twist the end of one delightfully rosy nipple again.
"No, Zack," she whispers on a sigh.
When I squeeze again, she manages to stay quiet. "We have work to do. I'm not as strict as your master, but I don't need a beautiful woman with long hair wrapping me up and cutting off the circulation in my dick. We shall work on your submission until you get it right." Yeah, my dick likes that and stands at even greater attention.
The look on Angel's face is priceless, and when her hand reaches for the appendage that's currently causing all my problems, I stop her.
"Naughty sub. You'll not touch me without permission. Nor will you touch yourself. In this bedroom, you will always be completely naked. When in the house but out of this bedroom, you will go without underwear. I may or may not allow you underwear when we leave the house. If you have problems with these rules, please say so because your delectable ass will carry my handprint if you don't object now and then you break one." I give a gentle tug to her hair again. "Objections?"
She lets out a long breath of relief. "No, Zack," she says, and her soft smile returns when she glances down.
I tip her chin up so she holds my gaze. "When you answer me, I want you looking at me and it's okay if you call me Sir or Zack. I'll accept either now. You have your safe word and you know my rules. I'm sure more will come up, but we'll adjust when they arise. Questions?"
"No, Sir."
"You may sleep in bed with me at night."
Her eyes drop before quickly coming up. "Yes, Sir."
***
We make it through the first day, and I even enjoy Angel's piano lesson. She's quite good and seeing the bliss on her face while she plays keeps me from noticing if she misses any notes. When Stephens rises from the bench, her small hand comes out and touches his arm. "Please, sir?"
Stephens makes a disgruntled sound but switches places with her. A rendition of "Chopsticks" ensues. It's one I've never heard before. It mixes classically intricate playing with the old tried-and-true, which is Angel's part. I'm enthralled, and when the piece ends, I actually clap.
I'm unsurprised by Angel's glee, but the blush traveling Stephens' face is priceless. His sour face quickly reappears and he hastily stomps from the room, which delights me endlessly.
"I think everyone around you falls under your spell," I tell Angel when we're alone.
Her expression goes from joyful to sensuous in a heartbeat. I walk over to the piano and place a gentle kiss on her temple. Whenever I'm close and I smell her amazing scent, it's near impossible to think about anything besides sex. Maybe it's this Dom who needs the real training.
"My knee needs attention. I promised your master I would follow all orders from my new physical therapist. Please occupy yourself while I'm being tortured," I gripe like a child.
She smiles and assures me, "I will be in the garden." She takes my hand and rubs it against her cheek. "I can relieve your pain when the torture is over, Sir."
I love the sweet, not-so-innocent grin she gives me. "I might take you up on that."
This time our kiss is passionate. I sink into the softness of her lips and absorb her taste, which always lingers after I kiss her. When I pull away, her eyelids slowly open and the endless blue depths suck me in again.
"Breathe, my sweet." I say it to remind myself too. Turning, I leave the room with a decided limp in my step. Damn leg. My cock wants to stay and find relief. This twenty-four-seven Dom life is rough.
Stephens seems to enjoy tormenting me and he works me harder than my previous therapist. I can't help it and try getting information from the stone soldier.
"Ask Mr. Monroe," is the only answer I receive. Stephens really gets to work after I ask about Monroe's return, and I have little chance to do more than grit my teeth and swear.
Sweat covers my body and I'm heavily favoring my good leg when I head to the garden. An oversized floppy hat covers Angel's head while she bends over a mixture of flowers and green plants. The sight returns some of my earlier good mood. She's simply exquisite in everything she does-either that or I'm in love. I have a feeling it's both. This woman has haunted my dreams since the day I met her.
And she loves my best friend.
Looking up, she squints into the sun, rises, and walks toward me with dirty hands and slightly browned feet sticking out from beneath her dress. "I've never understood the reason to cover beauty but find it impossible to believe the heat doesn't kill more women," I say with a grin.
She brushes her hands off on the flowing sides of her gown. "I love the sun but do not want my skin cracked and shriveled before my next birthday."
"But I could apply lotion to all your rough body parts," I say as I wink.
"Yes, Sir."
Her breathy whisper goes straight to my cock. "I won't be much use to you with the current ache in my knee. I believe you promised to help after my torture session?"
"Marguerite will have what we need in the kitchen."
When we reach the kitchen, I take a seat within the hallowed walls of Marguerite's empire. I decide against a pain pill and swallow two ibuprofens instead. Angel's fingers digging into my sore muscles makes the physical therapy almost worth it. Marguerite putters around the kitchen preparing dinner, and her words finally break into my massage-induced coma.
"La comida estar?lista en una hora." She continues her rapid fire Spanish and I can't follow the rest of her speech.
I turn to Angel when she replies in the same flowing lilt. She looks at me when she stops talking. "Dinner will be served in an hour, but Marguerite will leave tonight and be gone for two days. She says she will prepare food and place it in the refrigerator for us."
"We will be dining with Damian tomorrow evening and dinner will not be necessary, Marguerite."
Apprehension immediately washes over Angel's face and her attention settles on some unknown piece of lint in her lap. It's one of the things so wonderful about her. The changes in her expression say more than words most of the time. With a fingertip, I tilt her chin up. "We will enjoy a quiet evening with my friends. Playing at the club is an open option and entirely up to you."
"Yes, Sir. I only wish to please you."
I ignore Marguerite's loud snort. "It pleases me that you are not afraid and can enjoy an evening celebrating their newborn child." I see her fear turn to longing at the mention of the baby. "Do you want children?" I ask.
Her shoulders sag as sorrow washes over her expression. "Master cannot have children, and I only wish to please you both."
That's news to me. Monroe and I have never had a conversation about children. It also doesn't answer my question. I bite my tongue and drop the uncomfortable subject.
I rise from the chair and walk to the entry to the kitchen. "I would like to shower and change before dinner. My knee feels much better. Thank you."
***
Dinner, as always, is delicious, and I discover a few more hidden secrets about Angel. I also find that rapid fire questions gain more information because she doesn't have time to think carefully about her answers.
"How many languages do you speak?"
"Four fluently, but I understand several more."
"And they are?"
"Arabic, English, Spanish, and French. I studied Mandarin Chinese and Japanese," she adds.
"Have you traveled?"
"No, but I had very good tutors. My dream when younger was to be a teacher."
"My parents were teachers."
Her eyes light up. "They no longer teach?"
"No, they're retired."
"You are very blessed, Sir."
The end to our dinner is abrupt, but the ache in my dick is leaving no room for compromise. "I will be truly blessed when you await me in the dungeon with nothing on. You have ten minutes."
Her eyes go down and then lift and her anticipation shows clearly.
It's time to play.