They part for me, her breath rushing cool and soft across my skin. And in that moment, something inside me gives way. Lowering my head, I bring our mouths crashing together in a kiss that says more than I ever could with words.
Evi doesn’t seem to mind the roughness as she sighs against me, her hands coming to rest against my chest. The movement sends a flare of heat through me, but it’s not just desire—it’s the way she fits there, like she belongs.
I deepen the kiss, pressing her back until her shoulders meet the slick shower wall. The water cascades between us, soaking her hair, running down her spine. I cage her there, my hands braced on either side of her head as I consume her with a need I’ve never felt before.
This isn’t supposed to happen. I’m not supposed to feel this. But something about Evi appeals to me in a way no other woman has. Her genuine happiness, her desire to be useful—I feel an inexplicable connection to her, like we’re twin souls, searching for a purpose after a lifetime of not being enough—except I have no doubt that Evi has never felt like she was less than enough.How could she?She’s as close to perfect as any being on earthcould get. Evi is something I never saw coming. A woman I don’t just want, but want to trust. And it terrifies me.
The heat of my desire threatens to overwhelm me as I think about all the things I want to do with her—dotoher. And I break the molten kiss before I lose control, resting my forehead against hers.
“Tell me, Evi, what are your deepest desires?” I rasp, my breaths ragged with the effort not to lose myself in her. “The fantasies you dream about but have never told anyone?”
Everyone has them, and if I can, I want to fulfill the dark pleasures that turn her on. I want her to trust that I can satiate even her naughtiest needs. I know the kind of fantasies women can get into. Raf and I have frequented sex clubs as young as sixteen, following in our brother Leo’s footsteps, and while Leo’s given up that lifestyle to be with his wife—and Raf did as well when he married Genevieve—I was still using the club to satisfy my physical needs until recently. So I know the kind of appetites a woman can possess. And I want Evi to trust me with hers.
She swallows, her gold-flecked eyes darting away for a second before coming back to mine. “I just want to make you proud,” she admits. “To be a good wife. To… give you a family.”
There’s no agenda, no manipulation in her words, just pure, earnest hope. The simplicity of it undoes me, as does the emotion that thickens her voice when she talks about a family—as if she’s getting choked up just thinking about having my babies.
God, I hadn’t even thought about it until now, but the idea of seeing Evi’s belly round and swollen with our child is enough to undo me.
Still, that wasn’t what I was looking for. Not in this moment. Because even her answer is completely selfless, and I want her to tell me her most selfish cravings.
“Family’s good,” I say quietly. “But that’s not what I meant.”
She tilts her head, frowning slightly. “Then what did you mean?”
I study her for a moment, weighing whether I should say it. I’ve seen too much darkness to believe innocence survives long in this world. But she’s different. Untouched by the filth that shaped me. Still, I can’t help myself.
“Haven’t you ever thought about how you want someone to touch you? Treat you? Tie you up, maybe? Or spank you?”
“Spank me…?”
Evi’s cheeks color, her eyes widening as if the notion is beyond scandalous, and I wonder if she’s ever received a spanking. I doubt her parents ever laid a hand on her.
“Why would I want someone to spank me?”
“It’s… like a game. Reward and punishment. Believe it or not, you can find a lot of pleasure in pain.”
Her eyes flick down to my chest, to the bandage covering my fresh stitches, and my lips twitch when I can almost see the gears turning in her mind. Yeah, considering I’m something of a masochist, perhaps I’m not the best person to try and explain this to her, least of all now. But as usual, I’m like the sledgehammer, not the scalpel. Even if my timing is terrible, my experience would tell me everyone feels it to some degree. And I want her to know the kind of pleasure I can deliver.
“Pleasurable pain?” Evi murmurs, doubt lacing her tone as her eyes lift to meet mine once more.
“It’s an experience where control and surrender aren’t about weakness. They’re about trust.”
Her breath catches, and she nervously licks her lips, her pink tongue darting out to tempt me. “You mean…?”
“I mean,” I say softly, brushing a strand of wet hair from her cheek, “some people like to give up control. Some like to take it.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and she bites her lip. “And which one are you?”
“Guess.”
I see the answer flicker across her face before she whispers it. “You like control.”
“Yes.” I pause. “But it’s not about power. It’s about knowing someone trusts you enough to let go.”
She looks at me like she’s trying to decide if she should be terrified—or intrigued. Then her eyes drop, closing me out. “I’ve never…” she starts, then trails off, shaking her head. “I don’t know how…”
I step closer, my hands cradling the back of her neck, and I guide her chin up with my thumbs, forcing her to look at me.
