His Broken Submissive : Mercy

9 Important

Our ride home is in comfortable silence. After tucking me in the passenger's seat, Jonathan slips into the driver's seat and hits the open road. I smile to myself, feeling lighter now that he's back as I watch the scenery speed by. His strong fingers lace with mine drawing my attention to him.

His eyes are on the road, but the corners of his lips tug up into a satisfied smile. My mind replays his words over and over again as I look at the beautiful flowers on my lap.

He missed me...

I keep thinking about that night, how incredible everything was until I broke. When he left a big part of me was worried he wasn't coming back, the rest of me worried what would happen if he did come back.

Pulling into the driveway a sense of serenity takes hold. All of my fears and my negativity seem foolish now.

I'm okay, we're okay and we're home.

Home?

It's strange to think how much of a life I've built with him in just a few months. I've been on my own since I was eighteen, scraping together to keep a roof over my head but that was survival and this is living. For possibly the first time in my life, I feel safe and loved.

"Come on," he murmurs, putting the car in park. "Let's get you to bed."

I smile, hoping for a good night's sleep. Jonathan opens the door for me and guides us to the front door, saying we'll get our bags tomorrow.

Everything feels so normal and routine as we clean up for bed. Jonathan sets one of his t-shirts down for me to wear as I brush my teeth and comes back when I'm done.

He taps the bathroom counter, signalling for me to take a seat, then rummages through a drawer for the first aid kit. Jonathan lifts my chin and runs his thumb over my bottom lip, tracing the spot I split. His warm brown gaze never leaves me as he purses his lips.

"Does this hurt?" He asks and I shake my head no. "It's barely there, but this one looks like it'll be there a while longer yet." He dabs a bit of cream on my forehead where I ran into the wall and covers it with a bandaid.

"It doesn't hurt either," I whisper.

"Is anywhere still sore?" He asks arching a brow. I bite my lower lip, debating whether to mention it or not but the look in his eyes warns me not to hold back.

I slip off the countertop and spin around, lifting my shirt a bit to expose my hip and the faint bruise. Jonathan frowns and reaches into a different drawer pulling out a tube of strong smelling cream.

I flinch as the cold cream comes into contact with my warm skin then sigh as he works it deep into my muscle. Even after he stops I can feel the gentle warmth spreading over the area.

"Go crawl under the covers, I'll be right there," he dismisses, pulling down my shirt.

The day has caught up to me so I do what I'm told, instantly feeling my eyelids get heavy. After washing his hands and finishing up Jonathan slips in beside me and tucks me against his side.

"Sleep well angel," he whispers, kissing my head. Sleep claims me a short time later.

-----

I wake up cold and reach out for Jonathan, only to find him missing. Scanning the room I look for any trace, but see none. Both out bags are sitting by the doorway so he must have been up for a while. A quick check of my phone shows it's only eight am though.

Ignoring the cool morning air I slip out of bed and creep downstairs but the house is silent. I check the front hall closet and see his running shoes are gone so he must be on a morning jog.