I keep hold of Aurora’s hand. She tugs once, but when she realizes I have no intention of letting her go, she huffs out a sigh and sits back. For my part, I stare out the window and count down the minutes until we return to my building in an effort to keep from mauling her in the backseat.
I want to make her come again. More than that, though. I want to break Aurora into a thousand pieces and put her back together again, to be both creation and destruction, pain and pleasure. She a safe I don’t quite know the combination to, and I can’t shake the feeling that the only way to touch her is through dominance and submission. It’s the only way she’ll allow me to touch her.
It strikes me that I’ve never had someone hold out on me the way Aurora does. No matter what I do, she’s always managed to maintain a distance between us, and it couldn’t be clearer that she has no interest in crossing it.
Perversely, that makes me want to bridge the gap even more intensely. The feeling is disconcerting in the extreme. I pride myself on never losing control, but I’m dancing on the brink. I can’t shake the impression that Aurora is a fortress, all locked away with doors barred and a thorny barrier outside. It calls to the warrior inside me, who’s never met a barrier I didn’t want to climb over or burst through. Surely that’s all it is, my instincts demanding I break through to the very interior of her.
We ride the elevator up to my penthouse in silence. I’m too twisted up, too conflicted. The turmoil doesn’t make for a good scene, and I almost don’t care. Almost. I stop in the hallway and stare at the door to the playroom. If I walk through it right now, I can’t guarantee I’ll be in the right mind to take care of both of us. I’m too rattled, too raw.
I take a deep breath and then another and force myself to release Aurora’s hand. “Go to bed.”
“What?” I can feel her gaze boring into the side of my face. “That’s it?”
“Yes.” The first step away from her is the hardest, but then momentum carries me the rest of the way down the hall to my room. I don’t look back.
But even with the door closed, I can feel her presence. In the few short days Aurora has been in my home, she’s imprinted herself on the entire space. She’s too close, and yet nowhere near close enough. It’s frustrating and makes me want to tear my hair out. I’ve never been one to allow outward signs of frustration, but I’m in danger of breaking my own rule.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
I call Ursa.
Despite the late hour, she answers almost immediately. “Problem in paradise, darling?” The sweet venom in her tone is welcome, and I close my eyes and take my first full inhale in what feels like hours.
When I finally speak, I’ve managed to pull in my normal cool tones. “Gloating doesn’t become you.”
“Can you blame me for enjoying this moment?” She laughs, low and melodious. Everything Ursa does is melodious. She’s the sharp blade hidden in a jeweled case. Glittery and smooth and dangerous in a way unsuspecting people never see coming.
“In fact, I can.” Even if I got a perverse sort of joy watching her unravel not too long ago when her pair of submissives had her tangled in knots. It’s different with Aurora. Ursa and Alaric were already in a relationship when they tricked Zurielle into auctioning off her virginity. Aurora isn’t some sweet innocent thing with hearts in her eyes every time she looks at me. I’m reasonably sure she hates me as much as she says she does, though the emotion seems deeper than it should be for the simple act of not fucking her.
I sit heavily on the edge of my bed. “This isn’t what I thought it’d be.”
The amusement filters out of her tone. “You’re not just off-center. Something’s wrong.”
That’s just it. I’m not sure anything is wrong. There are a thousand little pricks of irritation and worry, starting from what’s going on in Sabine Valley and ending with Aurora, but nothing is actually wrong. Not in any quantifiable way. “She really hates me.”
“So seduce her into loving you if that’s what you want.” She says it so easily, as if there’s no question it’s possible. “That girl’s been turning your head since the moment you saw her.”
“Turning everyone’s head, including yours.”
A pause. “I didn’t think that bothered you.”
It didn’t. It doesn’t. I don’t mind Aurora’s history, even if it includes my best friend. Ursa only scened with Aurora occasionally to irritate me, but not enough to ever affect our friendship—a delicate balance she never landed on the wrong side of. “It doesn’t.”