Suited

Twenty Six

I helped Signore prepare lunch. Luckily, he made it easy on me. We made casarecce and it was delicious. We ate by the window and I got to see the sunlight filter through his hair, reflecting against the strands not unlike how my feelings for him did in how he said my name, and how he held me, and his feelings for me in how I obeyed his commands. Signore was a man worthy of respect and in being on this road with him, I learned that so was I. My place in this relationship, though perhaps unconventional to some, was perfect for me and us. I was Signore's ragazzo. I was his strength and love and pride, worthy of such for my effort and he was all of those things to me.

We took espresso in that hidden little place on the walking path with the pond and the geese and pretty trees. Signore was cute. He brought a picnic blanket so we could sit. I was dressed as minimally as possible in jeans and a figure flattering sweater. Signore genuinely despised me being covered up but he tolerated it for the sake of legality. I was beginning to feel the same. Truly, walking around in nothing save for maybe my robe or apron was freeing in a sense. In this house I was desirable. In this house I wasn't a bother. In this house I was sexy as hell and it wasn't just for him; it was for me. The only thing better than waking up with silk sheets against me was looking the mirror and not hating what I saw. Signore didn't fix me. That's not his job. His job was to love me, so he trained me and guided me to people who could help more and though I wasn't perfect, to him I was for the effort alone and he was to me as well.

"Striscia."

I was already out of my top when he shut the door. The boots were next, then socks, pants, underwear. I was getting good at stripping quickly, eager for the chance to be free again. More than I already was anyway. He ended up on the couch, and I was knelt between his legs, stroking him gently as he watched an old comedy. Well, pretending to watch. He kept looking down at me because I was more interesting than the movement onscreen.

He stopped me before I could make him finish, mouth open slightly to pant, chest rising and falling as he stared into my eyes. I didn't expect the kiss but I was grateful for it as I made my way up to the lustra to wait. My territory. My refuge. This space where my body came alive and my mind shut off and all I had to feel were good things.

I knelt in waiting in front of the mirror. I fixed my posture, I steadied my breathing, and reminded myself that most of what I needed was here. He was on his way. Then the space would be complete.

And there he was in the reflection of the mirror, shutting the door behind him. He didn't say anything at first. Instead, he opened the closet and came back with a wooden box. "Ragazzo?"

I made eye contact with him in the glass before dropping my gaze. "Yes, Sir?"

"I mentioned collars to you some time ago. Do you recall what your cuffs mean?"

"I'm considering, Sir."

He nodded then asked, "Do you believe you are still considering?"

I'd signed my contract. The real one. Several pages that bound him to me in this life. I knew it wasn't notarized but in my mind, it was just as serious. I was his and vice versa. "No, Sir."

"I agree. I let you relax this week being as you were busy; however, that is no longer the case." He set the box on the dresser and opened it. "I spent a long time deciding what kind of collar to get you for training purposes and though it was not your choice, I hope you will enjoy wearing it."

He came closer with a strip of leather and metal before he placed it around my neck. It was padded but he still left a bit of room. I glanced up into the mirror once it was on. I couldn't help the smile the slowly took over my face. "It's lovely, Signore."