The driveto Greymarch took longer than it should have. I took it slow, delaying the moment when I’d be close to them again. Breathing the same air. Fighting the same impossible battle.
It was nearly four in the morning when I pulled into the courtyard. The castle loomed in the darkness, windows black except for the faint glow of banked fires.
They’d be asleep. Safe in their beds in the guest wing, unaware of where I’d been or what I’d imagined doing to them.
I didn’t go to my bedroom. Instead, I walked to the end of the hall and unlocked the door to the playroom—a space I hadn’t entered since they’d arrived.
The door swung open on silent hinges, and I stood on the threshold.
I’d built this space before the Thorned Thistle existed, when I was still learning what I was and what I needed. It gave my darkness somewhere to live that wouldn’t bleed into the rest of my life. Here, I could be the manI truly was—commanding, controlling, the architect of surrender.
Now, I imagined them here.
Ophelia on the St. Andrew’s cross, wrists secured above her head, body stretched and displayed for my pleasure. Her breath would come fast and shallow as I circled her. I would trail my fingers across her heated skin. She’d try to predict what came next, but the beauty of the cross was that she wouldn’t be able to turn. She could only wait, feel, and trust.
Unlike in my fantasy at the club, Oliver would be on his knees beside a bench farther away, rather than close to her, with his hands clasped behind him. He’d be hard—he’d always be hard when she submitted—but he wouldn’t be allowed to touch himself. He’d do nothing without my permission, because that was the gift he craved even if he didn’t know it yet.
I’d make them wait. Make them desperate. I’d draw out their pleasure until they begged, then I’d give them what they needed. What only I could give them.
The fantasy was so vivid I could almost hear them. Ophelia’s soft moans as I marked her skin with my flogger—measured strokes, building sensation, never more than she could take. Oliver’s rough groans as I grantedhim permission to touch, to taste, to worship her under my direction.
I was achingly hard, my body responding to the images that existed only in my mind.
I shut it down before it could consume me, exited the playroom, and locked the door.
Later, alone, I’d take care of it. Yes, I still scened. I gave subs what they needed, witnessed them come undone under my command—but I never took my own release with them. That was the line I’d drawn after what happened.
Three more dayspassed in the same pattern.
I emerged for meals when I couldn’t avoid them, making polite conversation, then escaping to my library as soon as I could.
I spent hours staring at paperwork, reading the same paragraphs over and over without absorbing a word while my mind drifted to them again and again.
The distance was killing me, but the alternative was worse.
On the fifth day, my restraint cracked.
I emerged from the library in the late afternoon, my mind so full of numbers and estate reports that I didn’t see her until we nearly collided.
“Kiernan.” Ophelia stumbled, and her hand flew to her chest. “I didn’t realize you were—I was, um, exploring. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
She was close. Too close. I could smell her fragrance—the same light scent I remembered from the hours spent in the surveillance cottage and during hospital visits when she’d leaned into me unconsciously.
“You could never disturb me,” I murmured.
Color rose in her cheeks, but she didn’t step away.
The space around us constricted as I became aware of her quickening breath, dilated pupils, and the flush of her skin.
Her body knew what her mind was only beginning to understand.
“We’ve hardly seen you.” She spoke barely above a whisper. “I thought perhaps we’d offended you.”
“No.” I wanted to reach for her, to cup her cheek, and kiss her until she forgot the questions I couldn’t answer. “You’ve done nothing wrong. The fault is mine.”
“Then, why?—”
“Because I can’t be near you,” I blurted. “Because it makes me desire things I have no right to want.”
