Mistress's Good Boy (BWWM)

Chapter 20

The car is drenched in utter silence, no small chit-chat, no nervous rustling. Even the engine of the car seems to quiet under the suffocating tension building in the vehicle. Shifting in my seat I rub my palms across the skirt of the nightgown; nails glistening under high beams from the dew drops on the wind-shield. My hair flutters around my eyelashes while tickling under my nose. Ezra sneaks a glance towards me, thumb caressing the leather covering of the wheel, cheek tucked between his molars. He's back in the suit from yesterday minus the jacket which was abandoned on the beige couch in our inn room.

"How is your bottom." Ezra wiggles in his seat, mouth downturned and eyes squinted. He winces arching closer to the steering wheel.

"A bit sore, but not unbearable. I'm pretty sure I won't bruise either, so there's that," I hum closing my eyes against the flash of sunlit beams. I feel instantly warmed and melt into the seat. "But maybe we should have stayed at the inn, waited until after the breakfast service." He tries joking, but the waver in his voice is laced with something deeper. Something that doesn't hold any humor.

"Ezra." I warn. He twists his lips and pouts down at the steering wheel.

"I was just joking." I scoff smacking my lips softly as I let the wind lull me to sleep

°♡°

I awaken as soon as the car pulls into the drive-through, tires crunching across the gravel and rock. Yawning I stretch in my seat until I hear a soft pop from my bones, and then I reach feeling my muscles tense before being wrung loose. I open the door and Ezra follows with his breath held. He rounds the vehicle while popping the trunk; digging in he scoops the midnight-blue dress out. And he plants it in front of his body like a shield.

We walk up the driveway until we get to the main wing of the house, and then I grab the long-twisted handle yanking until the door creaks open slowly. The first thing I see when I walk in is Noma, slumped on the staircase with her head resting in her arms, and her hair ratty and messy. She's sporting a pair of grey sweats and an oversized t-shirt which swamps her body. When she looks up I immediately know I've royally messed up. If the darken bags under her eyes, and the half-removed makeup smudges on her face are anything to go by. She sighs sagging in this bone-deep relief, and then just as quick she snaps back in place scrambling off the stairs like a tyrant. She bypasses me all together storming towards Ezra until she's got her hands wrapped around his shoulder, shaking him so hard I wouldn't be surprised if his brain was rattling. The dress cascades to the ground and the boy wheezes.

"Are you out of your mind?" She booms giving him another harsh shake. He casts his eyes to the ground, but Noma hooks her fingers under his chin forcing the eye contact.

"You will look at me when I'm speaking to you." The woman spits, orbs burning with a heat I'd never seen before. Her hand snakes around his neck clenching the boy causing his knees to buckle. Breath quickened he bawls his fist, words stuck in his throat.

"I am repulsed by your behavior Ezra Wellington and I am deeply disappointed," She chastises crossing her arms over her chest; her face hard and stoic. She cuts those ruddy eyes towards me and her aura flares up, making me take a step back towards the door. The point of the handle seems to find the dip of my back in an instant. "And you. Where were you? How could you just let him leave like that?" Oh no. My heart quickens under my ribcage beating something fierce. And my throat runs dry.

"You are his dom! Ama'Rose." Noma shoves her hands towards the boy on the floor with part bafflement and disbelief. They seem to find their way up into her hair, tangled and twined, her cheeks red.

"We stayed in an Inn, Nirvana's."

"Nirvana's Inn!" Her hands drop to her side like deadweight. She looks down at Ezra, and then back up towards me. "Upstairs Ezra." She says.