He turns without a single word, but the command is clear enough. I follow him out of the bathroom and through the bedroom, into the main area of the suite. I silently sink into the chair he indicates. I watch with my foolish heart in my throat as he sets a cup of coffee in front of me. It only takes a glance to know it’s doctored exactly the way I like it—a drop of cream and too much sugar—but I take a sip to confirm anyway. “How do you know how I take my coffee?”
“Amsterdam. I brought you coffee and breakfast that next morning before I drove you to the airport.”
I hold the cup between my hands, letting the warmth soak into my palms. “That was a single time, three years ago. It’s such an insignificant detail to remember.”
“Nothing about you is insignificant, Hazel.” He picks up a second cup and leans against the counter. “Now, tell me why you’re freaking out.”
“Who said I’m freaking out?” He lifts a brow, and I wilt a little. “I had a plan. It was a very good plan.”
Devan takes a drink of his coffee. “I’m not arguing the quality of the plan. Unless I’ve misread things, we’re both enjoying ourselves.”
“You haven’t misread things.” I say it too quickly. God, what is wrong with me? It’s been years since I fumbled an interaction this thoroughly. Usually I have no problem keeping my poise and calm, but right now, I feel like I’m about to vibrate right out of my skin and make a run for it. “You haven’t misread things,” I repeat, slower this time.
He watches me for a long moment. “The morning after the part that’s freaking you out?”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“Could have fooled me. Normally people who aren’t freaking out don’t hide in the bathroom and refuse to come out.”
He has me there. I take a careful sip of my coffee, mostly to buy time. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. That I am feeling too much and that’s why I’m a little freaked out? The man would laugh in my face. “I’m not freaking out,” I repeat for the third time. I almost sound like I mean it. “I’m planning for the next birthday.”
“Mmmm.” Devan sounds like he doesn’t believe me, which is fair. I’m lying through my teeth. He takes another drink of his coffee. “I’m not overly inclined to go hunt down a third person to reenact that.”
“You have a problem with sharing?”
He pins me with a look that has my thighs clenching together. “I think we’ve already established that I don’t have a problem with loaning out that pretty pussy if the situation calls for it.”
My body warms. “I thought that was all an act.”
“Nothing we’ve done so far is an act, not in the way you mean.” He’s still looking at me too intensely. “The reason that roleplaying is so hot is that there’s an element of truth in it.”
I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but he’s right. We might be exaggerating and playing up certain elements, but there’s a reason the core fantasies exist. “Okay, so where does that leave us?” Truth be told, I don’t want to invite another person into our little bubble. I have so little time left with Devan, I’m greedy for every second of his attention to be solely focused on me and me alone.
“I have a few ideas.”
Anticipation licks through me. Yes, this is better. We’ve touched on my fantasies. Now it’s his turn. More than simple birthday spankings. I want more. “Tell me.”
He finishes his coffee and sets the mug aside. “I want you to come to me.”
I take a large swallow of my coffee. “I’m going to need you to elaborate.”
“Every birthday, I’ve come to you.” He pauses, the tiniest indication of nerves, before pressing on. “I want you to come to me, Hazel. I want you to need this cock so bad, you can’t stay away. I want you to show up and beg me for it.”
The words wash over me in waves. I lick my lips, trying to process. “Yes. I want that, too. All of it.”
“You sure?” He’s still watching me like I’m a gazelle about to bolt, like part of him wants to sit me down and crawl around inside my head until he figures out what my earlier issue was. “At some point, we need to have a conversation—”
“I want you to fuck my ass,” I blurt. I don’t even know if I mean it. The words just pop out in a pure panic because if Devan and I start talking, we won’t be fucking…maybe not ever again. I want the fantasy he described, but I don’t want to talk.
He blinks. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“Exactly what I said.” He pushes off the counter and moves to rinse his mug in the sink. “From your reaction, you’ve never been with anyone my size, which means you’ve never been fucked in the ass by anyone my size. That takes time to prep for, otherwise I’ll hurt you.”
“Maybe I want you to hurt me.” Something to remember him by, at least for a little while.
Devan gives me a sharp look. “Not like this, Hazel. You want me to paddle your ass again, we can talk. Other shit is up for negotiation, but I’m not going to do something that will cause you legitimate harm if done improperly.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.” The firmness of his tone says this
