“Do you know how I spent the rest of that night? Crying. On the bathroom floor. Dorian held my hair back while I threw up and Dove tucked me into bed. Happy birthday to me. Did I deserve that, too?”
Phantom’s jaw flexes. He says nothing.
Maybe he can feel shame.
I pull my notebook out of my backpack. I flip it to the correct page, then push it across the table. Phantom glances down and takes it in one of his large hands. “What’s this?”
“A contract outlining the terms of my release.” I keep my voice calm, clipped, like this is just a simple business transaction. “I’ll type it up later and email it to you.”
His eyes narrow. He pushes it back. “I’m not signing this.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll be back at the club on Friday, begging me to undo it.”
That sends a lash of anger through me. “Asshole.” I grab the notebook, shove it in my bag, and throw the bag over my shoulder.
He stands when I do. As I go to pass him, he grips my arm, holding me in place. “Ophelia.” He says my name under his breath, eyes aflame. He looks like he’s going to throw me on the table, lift my dress, and spank me, right here. In front of everyone.
And I hate that there’s a part of me that would let him.
There’s an animal need between us. We’ve both been very, very good about denying it this past year, but…something instinctual keeps pulling me back towards him.
I’m hyperaware of his touch. His fingers wrapped around me. How those fingers would feel on my throat. Between my legs. Inside of me.
“You need this,” he says. His voice is low, the sound of faraway thunder. He’s dropped his tone so only I can hear him. “As much as I do. Don’t walk away from this.”
I purse my lips together. “You hurt me. Acknowledge it.”
“I did it to protect you.”
“To protectme? You did it to protect yourself. You crossed the line. You broke the rules. You should know. You wrote them.”
I yank my arm out of his grip. This time, he lets me. We’re causing a scene—but I don’t care. I’m used to being center stage. I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder.
The anger is dissipating. In its place…hurt. I have to leave before it pulls me under.
I rise up on my feet, squaring off with Phantom. “You’ve burned the wrong submissive,” I tell him. Then I walk out the door and leave him tongue-tied.
5
Ophelia.Now.
“—Like the badass you are! Respect!”
Dove shouts her praise from the running shower. Dove will always hype me up.
Dove is my roommate. My sister—not biologically, but in every other way that counts.
I lean against our tiled bathroom wall. Steam billows around us, and I know I should let Dove have her shower-time, but this isimportant.
I just broke up with my dominant of three years. I need some Dove-advice.
“I’m making the right choice…right?” With Dove, I take off my armor. I allow myself to be vulnerable.
“He’s your dom. He’s supposed to control the scene. He’snotsupposed to control your life. He broke the boundaries, and you told him what’s up.”
“Right. It just…sucks. Because it hurts, and I’m in pain about it, and yet all I want to do is go to the club and let him spank me until I feel better. That’s fucked up, right?”
