“I’m so sorry, lovely. Of what?”
Callie shied away from remembering. “God takes the fragile ones back into his fold. Dad always said that. It still made me sad.”
“Of course.” He petted her. “Do you have any sisters? Brothers?”
Chilled air suddenly smacked her toasty skin, jostling her brain. Awareness rushed back into her head. Why did he want to know?
“Both.” Of course, Dad never knew that she’d heard about his teenage romance that resulted in a son no one ever talked about. She hadn’t thought about that in years, but she’d spied on his son once. Apparently, being an illegitimate Howe sucked because he’d been a bitter man.
“You’re sure?”
Callie tensed. Why would he think otherwise? His tone and the enormity of his question hit her. It might seem trifling to most, but if he suspected at all who she was and she didn’t tread carefully, she might give him enough to confirm her identity.
Would he sell her down the river for the two-million-dollar bounty?
“I’m cold.”
Sean took a step back. The flogger fell over her back, her ass, alternating, thudding, seeking to calm her again. At first, it stung against her hot skin. Then she had to resist the divine slide back into her silent cocoon.
“Relax,” he crooned.
Callie didn’t dare. She bit her lip to stay present, but she pretended. At least the flogger warmed her enough to stop her shivering.
“Did you take any special trips as a child?”
“No.” She’d wanted to go to Disney World. Dad preferred Europe and museums where she had to be quiet. A whole summer in the French countryside when she’d been fifteen had seemed nearly coma inducing.
“Did you go to public school?”
Never. Her mother would have rolled over in her grave. “Mom was too religious to allow that. Guess it didn’t stick very well.”
Her answer was true . . . in a sense. Her mother had worshipped at the altar of Prada and been a firm believer in the church of Versace. She would never have allowed her or Charlotte to rub elbows with the middle-class kids who lived in the tract houses a few miles away. That had sucked, too. They looked like they had more fun.
“Callie, you’re in your head again.” And Sean didn’t sound pleased.
“Sorry. The cold rattled me and I just . . .” Got scared with all the questions.
That made her even more dejected. Most likely, the man just wanted to know her. But just in case she was wrong, she had to lie. The truth was too risky.
Great basis for a relationship, Callie. Yeah, he’d really love you if he knew your past.
She’d be long gone before he could.
He sighed. “You get cold easily. I often forget because you make me sweat.”
A moment later, he shuffled around to the front of her body. She drank his nearness in with a moan, smelling the musk wafting from him. Her mouth watered, her pu**y wept. She wanted him so badly, had truly sought to please him . . .
“I genuinely tried. I loved the floaty feeling you gave me. I never thought I’d find subspace.” Callie wished she could touch him. “It hurts me to disappoint you.”
Sean peeled the mask away, and she blinked until she adjusted to the glaring lights. His shirt was damp, his cheeks flushed. A submissive dip of her head as he unsnapped her wrists from the chains proved his c**k lusciously hard.
“You came a long way tonight, lovely. It’s my own impatience that makes me want you so completely right this instant. But your effort pleased me.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more.” She blinked up at him uncertainly as he unfastened one of the cuffs and blood rushed back into her arms.
Disappointment in herself chiseled away at her composure. Even when she’d given herself permission to let go and fully surrender to Sean, she’d been unable to.
“I wanted to.” Useless tears welled in her eyes.