Page 62 of Deviant Obsession

"This might sting a bit, little one," I warn softly, dampening a cotton pad with antiseptic. She barely flinches as I clean the cuts, though I know it must burn. Such perfect pain tolerance. I can't help but press a kiss to her temple in reward.

"Thank you," she says dreamily as I tend to her. Her voice still has that floating quality that tells me she's hasn’t come down from the high just yet. "For marking me.”

My hands falter slightly in their work. "You're happy about having my mark permanently on your skin? You’re not mad I left an ‘E’ there?" The guilt churns a little more insistently now. The further away we get from the heat of the moment, the more I have to think about the gravity of what I just did.

"Not at all." She shifts in my lap, looking up at me with what I think might be adoration in her eyes. "I love knowing I'll always have a piece of you with me. Something to remember this by."

Fuck me, I’m done for…

I finish bandaging her thigh in silence, unsure how to respond to such a raw confession, then pull the sheet up around us both. She curls into me immediately, seeking the warmth and comfort she always needs after a scene—that I’m only too glad to give her every time. My arms tighten around her instinctively. The trust she places in me is staggering. She gave herself over completely to my blade, let me brand her, and now she's practically purring in my embrace.

"Such a good girl for me," I whisper into her hair, unable to stop the praise from spilling out. "So perfect. So brave."

She preens under the words, pressing closer. Every protective instinct I possess roars to life. I want to keep her here, safe in my arms, where no one else can touch her. I want to explore every limit, push every boundary, and watch her surrender again and again.

But Dean's face flashes through my mind, dousing my warm thoughts in ice water. My brother has made his obsession withRhea clear from the start. When he finds out about this—about what I've left on her—I know there’ll be hell to pay.

I push the worry aside for now, focusing instead on running my fingers through Rhea's hair as her breathing evens out. I've found something precious and rare in this woman. Something worth fighting for. And for the first time in my life, I'm not sure I can maintain a safe distance.

Not with her.

This situation between the three of us is fucked up beyond belief, but I think I've finally found my perfect match. Now, I just have to figure out how to be happy sharing her…

Before I destroy everything.

Chapter 20

Dean

I shiftthe wine bottle under my arm, knocking on Rhea's door while I silently try to figure out who the fuck I’ve become. It’s Saturday night and I’m back here again. Not at some frat party, not at the club, just back at her apartment after I sent her a text that not-so-subtly demanded a night in. I’m not interested in power games, restraints, or blindfolds. All I want is a night that two regular people might share to see if maybe they had potential beyond the playroom.

I need to see if she can look at me as something more than just the fucked-up mirror to her own darkest desires.

The lock clicks and there she is, all soft curves in gray pajama shorts and an oversized sweater that slips temptingly off one shoulder. Her hair falls in loose waves around her face, still damp from the shower. I told her she should be comfortable. Sheneverdisobeys.

"You brought me wine?" Her eyes light up as she reaches for the bottle, inspecting the label like she doesn’t quite trust me to bring anything decent. "I didn’t know you had the nice-gesture-thing in you."

"I contain multitudes," I deadpan, crowding her inside. The gentle sway of her hips as she heads to the kitchen draws mygaze like a helpless bug to a roaring bonfire. Even in this loose outfit, she’s a walking temptation that makes my fingers itch to grab her and bend her over the nearest surface.

That’s a thing that people still do outside of BDSM clubs and strict dynamics, right? If I can figure out how to get us there, I’ll own her in all the ways any couple walking down the street might spend a Saturday night at home.

Once she’s back with two glasses, she curls up on one end of the couch, tucking her feet under her like a contented cat. I sprawl beside her, close enough that my thigh brushes against her knee. It’s not enough, but I’m exercising restraint tonight like it’s an Olympic sport and I have my eye on the podium.

"So, what's the plan?" Rhea asks, taking a sip of wine. A drop clings to her lip, and I watch, transfixed, as her tongue darts out to catch it. "Movie? Take-out? Uh, book club or something?"

"Whatever you want. I just came to hang out with you. You’re in charge," I chuckle, realizing that I hadn’t thought about much past coming here and trying to keep my mind off kink for one night.Christ, what is wrong with me?I've had countless women, played countless scenes. Yet here I am, drawing a blank because I don’t remember what it’s like to try and date someone.

Not to mention, I haven’t told her that’s where my mind is even headed these days. I should probably find a way to broach that subject at some point.

She tilts her head, studying me with those eyes I’m convinced can see right through me. "You're being suspiciously vague. Is this a game? Should I be worried you’re about to whip out some cuffs and a butt plug?"

"No! Can't a guy just want to spend time with a beautiful woman?" I counter, reaching over to tuck a damp strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger against her neck, unable to resist the lure of that soft skin.

"A guy, sure," she teases. "But Dean Cooper? The guy who likes his women bound and blindfolded now telling meI’min charge? This is definitely cause for concern."

I should have a witty comeback ready. Instead, I find myself lost in the way the lamp light catches the golden flecks in her eyes, the soft curve of her teasing smile, the relaxed drape of her limbs now that she's let her guard down around me.

When did Rhea start making me crave quiet moments as much as screaming ones?

---