Stray by Erin Lark Page B

hands under my pillow, I used the other to finger my collar. I was his. And I wasn’t going anywhere.
     
    * * * *
     
    Morning came way too soon, and as the fog from my dreams lifted, I knew that even though it was early and I was still tired, I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Without opening my eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder why I’d woken up in the first place. I’d drawn the shades the night before, turned off the alarm clock and Marnie had closed the door to my room.
    There was absolutely no reason for me to be—
    “You awake?” Dylan asked as he bounced on the mattress like a little kid.
    I groaned and opened my eyes, surprised to find Dylan standing over my legs. “I am now—no thanks to you.” I shielded my eyes from the little bit of light in the room and glared at him.
    Dylan knelt down and craned his neck to read the alarm clock. “It’s ten in the morning. If you slept in any later than that, I’d have to pester Marnie.”
    “Oh, yeah?” I propped myself up on my elbows, leaning my head back to work the kinks from my neck. “But I bet she’s been awake since five. And my guess is you’ve already annoyed her until she shooed you from the room.”
    “Am I annoying you?” Dylan’s expression changed, his eyes darkening.
    Heat brushed my cheeks, and I averted my eyes. Whatever smartass remark I’d come up with was lost far beneath my submission.
    “Am I?” Dylan asked again, leaning in to press his nose against mine.
    “No, Master.”
    “Liar.”
    “I’m tired,” I blurted out, placing a hand over my mouth as soon as I had. “Sorry.”
    “We’ll get you caffeinated, then. You know what today is, don’t you?”
    I lay back and drew in a deep breath when he dismounted to lie down on his side of the bed. Not that I know of. “No, Master.”
    “One month.” He kissed me on the cheek, his expression flitting back to the playful one I’d seen earlier. “You’ve been my sub for one whole month.”
    I furrowed my brow as I tried to remember how long it had been since our first meeting at the club. There had been two meetings as far as I could recall—one week apart. Then there had been his two-week vacation. That’s only three weeks.
    “Three weeks,” I said, after giving it some thought. “We’ve been together for three weeks. Not four.”
    “Yes, but we’ve had four Fridays together. So that’s one month.”
    I shook my head and smiled. “You sure have an odd way of calculating time.”
    “Well, in my defence, I have suffered from jet lag recently.”
    “Okay, I’ll give you that. So, what’s the rush? Why are you waking me up?”
    Dylan gave me a hurt look, which soon turned into a grin. “Because, if I let you sleep any more, we’ll lose half of our day. Besides, it’s about time you got a proper flogging, but we need to go over a few rules first.”
    I nodded and closed my eyes. We’d spoken about the Saint Andrew’s cross in his dungeon, floggers and aftercare a few times before. Never in extreme detail, but we had touched on it in the past. I’d wanted to face the cross after our second week together, but for whatever reason, he’d waited until now to actually use it on me.
    “Pull off your gown and roll onto your stomach,” Dylan said, leaning over the bed to fish something out of the bedside table.
    I threw my gown off and shoved both hands under my pillow. I watched Dylan as he placed a bottle of lotion on his half of the bed, then rolled the covers down to my hips before straddling my legs.
    “Do they hurt?” he asked, his fingers tracing the scarring on the back of my neck, my left shoulder and hips.
    “Not really. Sometimes they do if I scratch my skin too hard.”
    “So it’s safe to say that flogging these areas is off limits, then.”
    “You can—just go easy on them.” I turned my head so I could look at him. “What’s the cream for?”
    “Precaution. I’ll use it after flogging you as well, but figured a little now and a lot