Mistress's Good Boy (BWWM)

Chapter 12

We're halfway through the second volume of Kill Bill, covers swaddled around our ears, and fingers sticky and greasy. I reach a hand out of the hot mass of covers and blindingly searching for the Tupperware container of cookies. When I don't feel the bulk plastic, I sink my hand back under the covers murmuring my displeasure.

"Did you grab the cookies?" It takes a while for Christian to respond. Well not verbally, more like a small head jerk. I wait to see if he'll get up and get them, but the boy stays planted in his spot. "I'll go get them." Moving my body from the pit is easier accomplished in my head than in real life. When I move from the comfort of silken comforters and soft pillows, the coldness sinks in and rocks through my body unpleasantly. Then to make matters worse, my legs tingle with the lack of blood circulation. Every step towards the kitchen feels like pins and needles, numb all over. Squinting through the dark of the room helps me locate the lonesome container of cookies, and with a quick swipe I cradle them in my arms with a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips, and an anxious urgency to return to the warmth of the pit.

"You want me to get you anything while I'm—" I turn bumping into a body violently. Soft hands clasp onto my wrist tightening to the point of uncomfortable pressure. I yelp thrusting the cookies into their chest, but that does little to ease their grip on me.

"I was looking for you all day," They huff. I can tell by the pitch of their voice and the presence they give off that this is Ezra. He huffs again for good measure and then gentles the Tupperware container from my palms and softly sets it against the black marble table-top. "All day Ama'Rose. I wanted to do activities with you, bonding and stuff, but as soon as you left with Noma..." I can see the shape of his body, tense and taut. I try to squint through the darkness of the room to see his expression, but I'm given little to no insight. He tugs me towards the hall guiding me with a sturdy hand.

"Come on, it's only ten-thirty the night is still young. Plus, I want to show you our room, I rearranged earlier this morning when I came back from Club Chasity. I put in things I'd think you like. I hope you like it." He whispers shyly ghosting his thumb over the skin of my knuckles. I blink quickly shooting my movie companion a look. Christian is still glued to the screen of the television, unfazed by Ezra's sudden appearance, or maybe he just isn't paying him any mind.

"I changed the bed sheeting like seven times, I just didn't know what you'd prefer. In the end, I laid silken sheets, because they feel best on the skin," He tugs overly excited damn there vibrating out of his skin. We're almost at the line where the hall meets the kitchen, but before he can tug my arm out of its socket, I yank firm twisting my wrist until he gets the memo. Even then he still doesn't let go.

"Sorry Mistress," He immediately says whilst averting his eyes to the floor. Now that we're closer to the halls and the lamps that hang on the walls, seeing is much easier, and maybe even a little painful. I scrub at my eyelids groaning to myself as the blurriness contorts my vision. "I'm just so excited and I want to get you settled in as fast as possible. That's the only thing I've been able to think about." He laughs tightly trying to loosen the grip he has on my wrist. The pressure barely loosens up. He swipes a loose piece of hair from his face scrunching his nose as it slowly falls back into the place it was in before. Ezra then lifts a finger scratching softly over one of the freckles in the corner of his mouth and then he shakes his head, hazel eyes darkening. His hold loosens even more.

"Come on, come see our room." I raise an eyebrow following after the boy as he leads me down the hall and up the staircase. This mustn't be right. My room was across the lawn in the Dom wing, next to Noma's. Plus, I hadn't collared Ezra, nor was I engaged to him legally. So, sharing a room was...

"Here, here," He's quick to push the door open ushering me into the cool room. He scampers around flickering the light switch on and then spreads his arms out, bright smile and cheeks slightly flushed. "This is it, this is ours." The room is large, much larger than the room I'm staying in, and much grander than any room I had yet to walk into. There's a canopy bed, with white see-through curtains, lace adorned in the corners and tied expertly in a position of absolute welcome. A small fireplace is secured into a mantlepiece which is placed next to the balcony. And the balcony is decked with clear tall doors giving access.