"Go to the bathroom, wash your face, brush your teeth, and then come back out here when you’re done. Understood?" His eyebrow lifts with the final question.
"Understood," I repeat lowly.
I do all the things in the exact order Asher tells me. Not rushing, but not taking my time either. When I step out of the bathroom, Asher is sitting on the edge of the bed in a pair of low-slung gray joggers that should be illegal.
I swallow, pausing in the doorway and waiting.
Eyes on me, he watches as if he's waiting for me to break, to pretend I never asked him to order me around and go to bed like I absolutely should be doing.
But I don't.
"Strip." It's an order, but it feels like a test. Like he's giving me one last chance to wimp out.
Slowly, I reach for the hem of my dress and pull the material over my head before letting it drop to the floor. I feel exposed, mostly naked, wearing only pale-blue lace panties anda matching bra. Vivian upgraded my underwear drawer along with the rest of my makeover.
He stands, taking four slow and deliberate steps toward me. His hands find my hips, rough against my skin but grounding me. Leaning in, he runs his nose along my jaw. I suck in a breath from his touch. It's electric. My body’s on fire, wanting more.
More of him. More of everything he has to offer.
"You want me to take control?" he asks against my neck, and I nod. "Words, Miss Morgan. I want to hear you say it."
"Yes. I want you to take control," I whisper.
His body vibrates against mine. "If I take control of you, it will be more than just telling you what to do, where to go, what to wear. You understand that, right?"
I nod eagerly.
"It will be more than just your body. Your mind too. I don't just want to possess you. I want toownyou, Miss Morgan. Do you know what that means? Answer out loud."
"Yes," I breathe. I’ve read enough romance novels and Kacey’s blog posts to understand where this leads. It’s never been something I wanted, not until now. Maybe that’s because I’ve never pictured it with someone like him before.
As he leans in and presses his lips to mine, I’m sucked into his orbit, my head buzzing as he deepens the kiss. His hand grips my chin, holding me in place and kissing me properly. We’re not interrupted like the last two times, so it gives him a chance to explore my mouth and build me into a frenzy. My hands clutch his chest and a moan slips from my lips. An electric current buzzes through me, and I know if he dipped his fingers under my panties, he’d find me wet.
“Sugar,” he says, breaking the kiss.
“What?” I’m confused, lips puffy, head spinning.
“You taste like sugar. That’s what I’ll call you then. Sugar.” And then he drops his grip on me, stepping back. Air rushesbetween us, and I feel a longing like I’ve never experienced to have his body against mine again.
"You've never done this before," he says, eyes looking into mine. "You should take time. Think about this."
"I want this." It slips from my lips easily.
I do want this.
Asher's gaze travels my body again, sucking in a breath, as if this is hard for him.
He shakes his head. "Not tonight, Grace."
The rejection stings, the burn coating my skin, but then Asher walks forward again, his pointer finger lifting my chin to look up at him.
"Think about it. When you're truly ready, we'll talk more."
23
GRACE
After I’m left horny and unfulfilled, we return to New York. We don’t talk about sex or control, and I know the ball is in my court. He told me to think about it, and that's all I’ve done. But bringing it back up feels harder than it did that night.
