“I desire very little, but the things I do consume me.”
—Beau Taplin
Itake my time shaving, stroke after slow stroke, knowing Emmy waits for me just outside the door.
My jaw ticks beneath the razor as last night replays in my head. Over and over, I watch her mouth fall open as I fuck her, hear my name on her tongue when she comes. Feel the burning slice in my back as she loses herself, then her soft, stained fingers sliding down my face.
Shit.
Tossing the razor beside the sink, I lean forward and splash cold water on my face. My wound aches at the strain, still raw with the stitches Aubrey gave me several hours ago. I keep my eyes shut for a minute. Everything inside me starves for Emmy, urging me to peel back whatever other dark secrets she’s hiding behind those innocent eyes.
In all the years prior to abstaining, I’d never had a woman able to pull me out of it—out of the blinding depths that take over those final moments I relinquish my control. Yet Emmy did. Then she went and outdid me. Seeing her soul stripped of pretense as she held my knife, as my blood decorated her skin—it was fucking spellbinding.
I don’t know how, or when, she got under my skin, but she’s liquid in my veins. I feel her with every beat of my pulse. There is no avoiding her. For better or for worse, she’s shackled to me now.
I step into the bedroom and pace to my closet, grabbing a black button-down and slipping it on. Turning as I work the buttons, I spot Emmy leaning against my dresser. She’s raking me over, licking her lower lip like she wants to do that climbing thing she does.
My cock is weak. He immediately stands at attention.
I grit my teeth as the sutures below my shoulder graze my shirt. The sting makes me think of Emmy’s euphoric expression when she stabbed me, which makes me want to fuck her again, which is irritating because I have shit to do and can’t spend all day between her legs.
Fuck. That image doesn’t help.
A quiet growl rumbles through me. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll need new stitches before my meeting.”
She bites her lip but drops her gaze. Intrigue and guilt. Interesting pair. She thinks she did something wrong last night. And, yet, she liked it.
She works so hard to hide herself. Makes me curious who made her think she had to in the first place.
Once I’m fully dressed, I walk to the dresser and grab my phone, opening a text from Felix. “Let’s go,” I mutter without looking up.
“But I’m not presentable. I have to stop by the spa.”
I arch a brow, then bring my gaze to hers. “You’re not what?”
She shifts her feet, gesturing from her face to her heels. “Presentable. For you.” When I say nothing, she adds, “Hair, makeup, nails ...”
I look her up and down. She’s in her uniform—tight black dress and heels. Little fucked up since that’s the same thing Katerina wore in the studio, but everyone has issues, and we stopped trying to make sense of ours a long-ass time ago. Her hair is down, black and long. Her lips are soft and pouty. Light freckles I hadn’t noticed before dust her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. Her blue eyes are bright and centered on me, right where they should be. She looks fucking perfect to me.
I rub my palm down my jaw, my eyes flicking back to those lips. I had my first taste last night, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to shove her mouth open with my tongue. I wanted to take that part of her too.
But I don’t kiss. It’s one line I won’t cross, not even with her. Kissing is intimate, and I don’t do intimate.
Tearing my gaze from her mouth, I turn and head for the door. “You’re fine,” I mutter, staring straight ahead as we exit. “No more visits to the spa, understand?”
There’s a pause, my words echoing in the hall as she trails behind me.
“I understand,” she says softly.
Something about her tone makes my shoulders stiffen. It’s warm and affectionate, two things that don’t belong anywhere near me. I’m made of ice, a place where warm things go to die.
Clenching my fist, I stop just outside Raife’s office door. When I finally look at her, I know my expression is as cold as my soul would be if I had one. But the second I find her wide eyes already locked on me, her chin tilted and her lower lip between her teeth, unspoken words I didn’t anticipate burn painfully inside my mind.
Instead what comes out is, “You’re here because I’m your master.”I can’t function without you.“Your duty is to serve me.”I’m chained to every move you make.“That’s all this fucking is.”You’re all there fucking is.
Her gaze drifts to my clenched fist, and when she drags it back up to meet mine, she gives a slow nod. “Yes, Master.”
Heat coils around me, pulling my muscles taut as her voice lingers in my ears. Working my jaw, I push the door open. “You and following damn instructions.”
