And there are so many goddamn candles. The room glows like it’s on fire, every flame multiplied a hundred fucking times by the mirrors, creating an almost dizzying effect.
I take a few steps inside, my balance wavering, as if the floor itself might ripple beneath me. My throat tightens around a dry breath, and I quickly scan the distorted reflections.
Of myself.
Dozens of versions at different angles scattered across the walls.
“Thought you would enjoy the idea of being watched, of performing for yourself.”
I quirk a brow, rolling my eyes. “So, what? In a few days you had contractors set this shit up . . . for me?”
He just brushes his sleeve, as if wiping away invisible lint. “As I mentioned, the manor has a lot to offer, and I recognize its full potential, including the room of mirrors.”
I’ve always liked mirrors—liked being watched, liked seeing my strength, my control—but this? It’s as though the house is showing me something deeper, something I don’t want to see.
“You’re holding on too tight,” Adrian says quietly, his voice soft but pointed, like a knife dressed in silk. He steps closer, his breath warm against my neck. “I can feel it.”
I shift my weight, trying to calm down, but fuck, my hands are shaking. I glance down, flexing my fingers like it’ll somehow ground me.
Get it together, Kane.
I take a deep breath, then exhale while rolling my shoulders, trying to remind myself who the fuck I am. I’ve done this a thousand times. I’ve always used sex to carve out some small piece of control in the world.
Adrian’s fingertips brush against my forearm, light, teasing, but enough to send a tremor down my spine. “Let go, Jasper.”
I don’t know how to respond because I’m always the one taking charge, the one leading, pushing, controlling. But now, in this fucking maze of reflections, I’m the one being led.
The worst part?
A part of my brain likes how he’s pulling me in. And the way his voice wraps around me, the way he just fucking exists in this space, is making it so goddamn hard to resist.
“News flash. It isn’t as easy as you make it seem.”
“It can be.” He steps in front of me, his eyes locking with mine. “Just trust me.”
“What about me says I trust easily?”
“You must, since you just opened up to me. Or did you not mean to let it slip that you have trust issues?”
Fuck.
A low growl rumbles in my chest. I’d meant it as sarcasm, but there’s truth behind it, and Adrian is too perceptive.
He doesn’t speak, just unbuttons my shirt. Then, he peels it open, baring my chest to the cool air. His touch is light, almost too gentle, but I feel every fucking second of it like it’s burning into me as he pushes the material away from my body.
For the first time in a long time, I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, and my heartbeat becomes erratic. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirrors—my skin flushed, my chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow.
I smirk at Adrian, reaching out to undress him. “Bet you can’t wait to have me fill you.”
He catches my wrist. His grip is firm and unyielding, and he gently pulls my hand back down. “Not tonight. Tonight is mine, Jasper.”
My chest tightens. “What—”
“Trust me.” His fingers graze the waistband of my jeans, undoing the button. Then he pushes them—along with my boxers—to the floor. “Let me guide you.”
I step out of the pile, standing naked before him, cock fully erect.
Fuck.
