"I don't care. I'll find him."
Jesus Christ. This is not how tonight was supposed to go.
"Hey." I force steadiness into my voice. "Look at me."
He's shaking, not even trying to hide the fury rolling off him in waves. He turns toward the door again.
"Look at me. Please."
He pauses.
"If you walk out that door, we all die. Me. You. Hale." I hold his gaze. "Is that what you want?"
His jaw works. "I can handle him."
"Not alone."
"You'll help me."
I shake my head. "I'm rusty, and I don't have the same strength I used to. We won't survive, and you know it. We have no backup here."
"He put his hands on you again."
"And you're going to make me forget." I step closer, palms flat against his chest. "So be here with me. Please."
He drops his forehead to mine, trying to temper his ragged breathing. I watch his throat work as he swallows the rage, trying to leash it.
"Tell me what you need." There it is…the pleasure Dom in him, surfacing.
I had a feeling this would work.
"I need to stop thinking. I need to be somewhere else. Someone else. Just for a little while."
He studies me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
"You trust me?"
"Yes."
"Completely?"
I nod.
The tenderness in his expression hardens, sharpening into something more focused and dangerous, making heat pool low in my belly.
"Then here's what's going to happen." His voice turns authoritative. "You're going to let me do whatever I want to you. The only words I want to hear are my name—or ‘red’ if you need me to stop. Understood?"
I take a breath. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, understood."
That earns me a wicked smile. "Good girl. Turn around. Hands on the door."
It was Tristan who introduced me to this world years ago—awakened something in me I didn't know existed. I loved submitting to him, loved the way he'd reward me with gentle praise and filthy promises that would make me wet days later just thinking about them. He made me feel safe enough to let go.
He moves behind me, the anticipation becoming its own exquisite torture. He finds the tie of my robe and pulls slowly. The silk parts, hanging open, while his finger traces from the nape of my neck to the base of my spine.
