She kept saying that, and I wondered if she knew how wrong she was.
"And you think there's feelings between you and Simon?" I asked.
"I don't know. There could be. He's normal. He's fun. We have things in common. There could be something there, and I'm not going to ruin it by going 'oh by the way, meet my husband; he gets off on making me cry!’"
"Then don't tell him," I snapped. "Start a relationship with a big secret between you and then in six months, you can pay him not to care."
It was over the line. Even I knew that, but the words slipped out of my mouth anyway, hitting with force.
Ash flinched back, and I knew I'd hit on something she was worried about. Of course she would be worried about it, and I should have known that. Instead I was lashing out, letting my negative feelings bleed all over.
I was acting like my damned mother, almost. Fuck.
"You're such an asshole," she said again, but she wasn't getting up to storm out.
"I know," I replied. "That was... I shouldn't have said it like that."
"But you're right," she sighed. "It's not like I can just start something with him without telling him certain parts of the truth, and even if I didn't, there's going to be the matter of the sudden windfall of money to explain."
"You could always say you won the lottery," I suggested, sighing.
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” she muttered under her breath. “Look, I have no idea what I’m going to do, and I just wanted you to know what’s going on. That’s it. We don’t have to harp on it to death.”
I wanted to say more, but I was aware that I wasn’t really in the best headspace to be anything other than snide about it. It was rare for me to care so much about something that didn’t even matter, so I just nodded.
“Fine. Let’s move on to the real reason why you’re here, then.”
Ash rolled her eyes, and that put us safely back in the usual realm of our interactions. But she knew what she’d come here for, so when I stood up and offered her my hand, she brushed past it, heading to the playroom.
I reached out and wrapped a hand around her wrist, stopping her for a second. “Wait. Not in there. Not today.”
She looked back at me with surprised eyes, and I smiled, another idea coming to me.
Chapter 5
Killian
For all we'd done before, this was much, much more intimate.
I'd fucked her in her bed at her apartment, without any toys for restraints or anything, but when she was here, we almost exclusively used the playroom. It was set up for whatever I wanted to do to her, and I had all of my gear and toys in there.
And somehow, that hadn't been what I wanted.
It felt impersonal, almost cold.
I could hide behind the persona, put the distance between us when I strapped her down to the bench and used toys on her to make her fall apart for me before I used her to my satisfaction.
I had a million little plans for the things I could do to her in there, but it hadn't felt right. I didn't want to take her apart that way. Not when I still had the tide of jealousy and bitterness creeping through me.
It pushed me to make sure I gave her an experience she couldn't forget or hide from, and so I had her tied to my bed, spread eagle so there was nowhere to go and nowhere to hide.
She was gloriously naked, and I looked down at her hungrily, dragging my eyes over her body that I had come to know so well by then.
The gentle swell of her breasts, the way they moved as she breathed, shallow breaths that told me she was nervous, even if the rest of her was determined to hide that.
Her skin practically glowed in the light from the windows, and when she tugged against the ropes that bound her, I hoped they would leave marks behind. Marr that perfect skin so she'd have to look down at her wrists and ankles and remember what we'd done.
I couldn't tell if she could sense my mood or if she just thought this was a new thing I wanted to try, but she watched with narrowed eyes while I stripped at the foot of the bed, taking my time, giving her a show.
Her eyes were heavy on me, stretching over my body while I pulled my shirt over my head.
She'd seen me naked before, but usually I kept something on. There was more power in being clothed while she was naked and collared, shivering and under my control.
But this wasn't about control. It was about my desire to feel her. I wanted skin to skin, no barriers, no pretenses.
And she was into it.
That pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and her cheeks were pink as she watched me.
"See something you like?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.
"No," she said, looking away sullenly. But her eyes came back just as quickly, running over me with an almost physical sensation.
"Sure," I replied. "Nothing here to like at all."
"You're so full of yourself."
"And you like that."
She shook her head. "I don't. That's your ego talking and projecting onto me."
I narrowed my eyes at her, suddenly a bit irritated again. She knew how to push my buttons, of course. She'd made a hobby of being prickly when I was trying to be nice to her, and even being tied down and naked on my bed wasn't enough to stop that.
It was our usual dynamic, and for the most part it didn't bother me anymore. It was attractive, the way she held her own all the time and didn't cower for anyone.
But in the moment, I wanted her to see me and stop being so snarky. I
