“Did you think I wouldn't find out?”
Fiona lifts her chin defiantly. “Am I supposed to sit in my room and stare at the walls all day?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “That’s exactly what I expect.”
Something flashes in her eyes then. Hurt, maybe, or anger.
“I didn’t realize seeing my friend for an hour was crossing some unforgivable line. Especially, when you didn’t bother to tell me it wasn’t allowed.”
I glare down at her. “You don’t need permission to breathe, but for everything else? Yeah, you do.”
Her lips part like she wants to argue. But instead, she swallows.
Her shoulders sag just a fraction, and the fight drains out of her in a way that makes something twist uncomfortably in my chest.
“I wasn’t trying to undermine you,” she says quietly.
That’s when it hits me. This feeling that arose in me the second I saw Fiona with her friend… It was jealousy. The fact that another person made her smile or heard her laugh or offered her comfort, those things feel like they should be mine alone right now.
“Well, you did. And you don’t get to forget who you belong to just because you had tea and cake with your friend.”
“I didn’t forget,” she whispers.
I step even closer, crowding her back until the back of her thighs hit the edge of the bed.
My hand comes up to grip her jaw, not rough enough to hurt, but firm enough that she has no choice but to look at me.
“Then don’t act like it.”
I dip my head and take her bottom lip between my teeth.
Fiona gasps, her hands moving to my chest to steady herself.
But I instantly grip her wrists.
Feeling the heat from her hands seeping through my shirt sets off alarm bells in my head. It’s a slippery slope to having herreach into my pants and stroke my cock, and I can’t have that. I can’t have her setting the pace or being in control of my pleasure.
“Lie back.”
Fiona does as I say without question, lying down onto the comforter and looking at me with curiosity. But I have no intention of joining her on the bed.
I reach for her ankles and start tugging at her leggings.
When I have her naked from the waist down, I keep her legs together and throw them over my left shoulder. Because if I were to part them, no amount of self-control would stop me from dropping to my knees and tasting her.
I stick to my unspoken rule of unbuckling my pants just enough to pull my cock free.
I never get fully undressed anymore, and that’s a deliberate choice.
There was a time, only too recently, when being naked with Fiona felt like something sacred. Now I keep my clothes on, leave my shirt unbuttoned at most, and my belt loosened just enough so I can get what I want. And what I want isn’t intimacy. It’s control. I want to remind both of us that whatever this is between us is on my terms now.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I slowly thrust my hips.
Fiona’s back arches off the bed as her eyes flutter closed, a look of pure ecstasy on her face.
She might have lied to me and betrayed me, but despite all of that, I can’t deny that watching her take my cock is fucking breathtaking.
She keeps her eyes closed as I move inside her, as if she’s needing to put distance between us too.
