Page 43 of Power and Possession

“Ashlynn?” Steele spoke hesitantly, as if he was second-guessing his actions.

I groaned, thinking about feigning sleep. I didn’t know how I was going to act like nothing was happening when my father could literally show up at any minute and rescue me. But I thought back to our conversation earlier, and how vulnerable he’d made himself. I walked over to the door and opened it.

He’d changed out of his tuxedo and was looking handsome in a dark pair of jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was messy, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and he had a rather peculiar look on his face, almost as if he was on a tight rope walking between two tall buildings.

But he also had a bag of something that smelledsuspiciously like French fries. I immediately moved back, allowing him to enter. He placed the bag down on the coffee table, and then helped himself to a seat on my couch.

The smell of greasy American food called to me. I moved closer to the couch, and he gave me a small smile, slightly mischievous, as if he was leaving breadcrumbs to get me closer to him. Suddenly I was ravenous. I wasn’t a big fast-food fan, but right now it was just what the doctor ordered.

I sat next to Steele as he unpacked the bag, setting a wrapped cheeseburger and a side of fries before me. I didn’t hesitate, not caring that I hadn’t even said a word to him. He watched me eat, that coy smile etched on his face. I saw his eyes drop slightly when I noticed his stare.

“Ashlynn, I’m sorry about tonight. I never meant to hurt you. If I had known the significance of that particular opera, I would have never taken you.”

I swallowed hard, the guilt returning. This was a peace offering because he thought he’d hurt my feelings. I quickly looked down, eyes on the food in front of me. Once again, I was no longer hungry.

“Ashlynn.” Again, just my name. Whenever he said it, it felt like he somehow had power over me. Whispering my name like that always seemed to ignite something within me.

“It’s okay,” I said, smoothing out my pajama shorts. “You couldn’t have known.”

He reached for my hand, holding it in his. “But I want to know. I want you to trust me. To open up to me. I want us to be—friends.”

Friends. Such an odd request coming from Steele. But it didn’t matter, it was only a matter of time before I was gone.

“Sure. Friends,” I agreed, trying to take back my hand. But then he lifted it to his mouth and looked me straight in the eye as he kissed the top of my hand. The movement sent fire tingling all the way down my body and I instantly felt the flush of red in my cheeks. Steele undoubtedly sensed it as well, because he opened up my hand and then pressed a tender kiss on the center of mypalm.

I suppressed a moan, trying not to let it escape my throat. Instead, I was left with a throaty croak. He grabbed my other hand and scooted closer on the couch, and kissed my other palm. His eyes met mine, and I felt the steam rise between us. Steele reached out and stroked my hair, fiddling with a long piece that was still curled from my updo. I leaned into the touch, craving affection from him.

The rational part of me tried to reason with the lust running through me, but I couldn’t be denied. This might be my last chance to be with Steele, and I didn’t want to waste it. I wanted to feel him on top of me, enjoy the way he pressed me into the mattress and made me feel good everywhere. The other times we’d been together, he’d left me more than satisfied, which was a lot more than I could say for most of my previous boyfriends.

Hell. I was thinking of Steele as my boyfriend. Shit. I needed to shut this down, and fast. I couldn’t become attached; I couldn’t see him as a person. There was a good chance my father would kill him the second he spotted him.

Steele leaned in, touching his forehead with mine. He exhaled deeply, the passion so intense that it threatened to burn us both.

“Ash, just be with me.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Steele

I carried her back to my room, wanting her on every inch of my king-sized bed. The significance was huge, even if she didn’t know it. I’d never had anyone in this bed before. My place in London was smaller and right in the city so I often took women in my bed there, but in Paris I usually brought them to one of the hotels I owned.

“Lie back and close your eyes,” I told her.

She wrinkled her brow, not moving.

“Do you trust me?”

“No,” she whispered, but she obeyed anyway. Her head hit the satin pillow, and she straightened her legs, her toes slightly pointed. She looked beautiful, her body spread out before me. Her thighs were pressed together, and her breathing had changed. I could tell she was nervous about what I was going to do. I wanted to tie her up and take her roughly, but she had been through so much that I didn’t feel right about it. Instead, inspiration struck and I grabbed the rose from my nightstand and crawled next to her on the bed. It has been placed in a vase, no doubt by Quincy.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

She let out a shaky sigh, and I brought the rose to the top of her forehead. She took another breath in, and I traced her nose and her cheeks with the soft petals.

“Steele,” she moaned, wiggling a bit against the light teasing.

“Shhhhhhh, love. Hold still.” I was pulling these moves from out of nowhere. I’d never seduced a woman in bed before, never took the time to enjoy the foreplay. It was straight to business, bodies joined and then rocking together until the explosion. But now…I felt myself thicken so much it was almost painful. I’d never been this aroused before.

I drew the rose lower, across her plump lips and down her slender neck. I circled her breasts and each nipple, and then withdrew the rose and placed a wet kiss on each hardened tip. She squirmed, her breathing increasing rapidly.

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