“I didn’t realize I owed you a report,” she says dismissively.
He nods slowly.
Once.
Looks down at his hands.
Then back at her.
His face has gone still. Not wounded exactly, just… closed.
“You hurt me, Jax. You didn’t need me.”
Not a question.
A statement.
Jax rolls onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. “You weren’t following instructions,” she says, tone edged with mockery. “I needed the release, and that was the quickest way to get there.”
That lands. He actually flinches—small, almost invisible—but she sees it. He can see it in her eyes.
And instead of softening…
She pulls out her claws, andsharpens.
Because softness is where danger lives.
“I didn’t realize we were in a fucking rush, Jax. And I didn’t realize that you were the only person that mattered.”
She rolls her eyes as if he’s being petulant.
“How am I meant to learn your body if you won’t let me? I was right there, Jax. Trying to give to you.”
Still calm.
Too calm.
“You wouldn’t even let me be part of it. I’m not an observer, I’m your fucking lover.”
Cruelty twists her face, her body hardens into an impenetrable wall.
“You weren’t doing it properly,” she says, but the words lack her usual bite. No, this time, she sounds empty.
Ronyn barks a humorless laugh. “How the fuck could I do anything properly, Jax, when you’re instructing me every other heartbeat and telling me I’m fucking useless in the moments between?”
The words lash like a whip cracking the air.
“I won’t apologize for having preferences,” she states coldly.
He groans in frustration. “Jax, I will accommodate every preference you have. I will turn myself inside out to please you, to pleasure you, to give to you. But I will not tolerate being used and treated like I’m not present while you’re fucking me!”
She sucks in a sharp breath, taken aback by his directness.
But she digs in her claws.
She doesn’t speak. Not yet.
She’s waiting to strike.
