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I should still be furious.

I was furious this morning, in a room with a registrar in it.

I go looking for it now and find nothing, which frightens me more than the leather does.

Asher watches me for a moment before turning towards the bed, all strong thighs and lean muscle, without looking back. “Come on, puppy. Follow me.”

Puppy.

He’s used it twice now, and I haven’t told him to stop either time. I told him I wasn’t his prey. I told him I wasn’t his pet. This one lands somewhere lower and stays there, and my cock is hard against my stomach while I crawl across the floor to reach him.

It should be humiliating. It is humiliating.

That isn’t what frightens me.

Bracing one hand against the rug, I crawl after him, the fire warming one side of me while the stone stays cold beneath my knees. Every movement should make this worse. Somehow it doesn’t. My face burns, my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest, and beneath it all is the terrible relief of not being responsible for what happens next.

Asher glances back over his shoulder and catches me following. At the bed, he pats the mattress with the flat of his hand, then looks down at me. “Up.”

There’s nothing in me now but the ache in my throat, the thud in my ears, and the want I’m rapidly running out of ways to deny. Light, I think I’d do almost anything he asked right now if it meant he put his hands back on me.

He sits on the edge of the bed, knees apart, watching me come the rest of the way. “Hm.” A grin tugs at one corner of his mouth. “I’m deciding whether you know how to ask properly yet. Come a little closer.”

I reach his feet and stop on my knees between them, my whole body shaking. “You make this impossible.”

His grin widens as he leans forward slightly. “What exactly am I making impossible, stormbird?”

“Everything.” I swallow, forcing myself to keep looking at him. “I’ve spent my whole life taking care of someone else. I know how to do that. I know what I’m supposed to do when someone needs me.” My face burns, but I keep going. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when someone looks at me like you do and decides I’m the one who gets looked after.”

Something in his expression shifts, though the grin doesn’t disappear completely. “Is that what’s frightening you?”

“You know it is.”

“I know what I think.” He reaches for me, his fingers sliding into my hair. “I want to hear what you think.”

I hate how easily I lean into his hand. “I don’t know how to let somebody take care of me.”

“There you are.” His fingers tighten just enough to tip my head back so I’m looking up at him, his thumb stroking through my hair. “Now, what was it I asked you for?”

“You already know.”

“I want to hear it in your voice. Nobody can hear you but me.” His thumb moves through my hair, stroking slowly.

I close my eyes. Don’t. Every time, he asks, and then he waits, leaving the choice sitting in my hands until I’m the one who has to give it to him.

And Light, I want to.

My hands shake against my thighs. “Please.”

His hand tightens in my hair. “There’s my good boy. Look at me.”

I open my eyes. There’s no smugness in his face now, only those dark eyes fixed on mine like I’ve given him something far more important than one word.

“Good puppy.” His voice drops, sending heat down my spine. “On the bed.”

I go where I’m put.

The mattress gives beneath me as I climb onto it, and Asher comes over me. A moment later, he leans away and picks up his belt from the floor. “Turn over.”