Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Ash leaned into him, eyes slipping closed; a lovely, boneless feeling went through him, languid and soft. “That…makes perfect sense and none at all.”
“Which is typical for people, regardless of their station or any unique…preferences.” The latter word came out on a soft growl. “You may draw comfort and strength from my care, allow me to shelter you and manage your life…and still stand on your own as you make the choices necessary to grow into the life you have inherited. The two are not mutually exclusive. And for some whose public lives revolve around controlling critical decisions, it can be very freeing, to the point of providing sexual release, to give up control in their private lives.”
Ash bit back a grin. “So that’s a complicated way of saying some people get off on being pampered and told what to do.”
“Yes, you impertinent wretch.” Brand let out an exasperated, but not unamused sigh. “In some small way, you are American royalty—while I appear to have taken on a role not only as your manservant, but your knight. I protect you…but you may still command my loyalty, young Master.” Brand let out a thoughtful rumble. “Even if I may, at times, rebel at being commanded myself.”
“You are a very hard man to boss around, Brand.”
But that was what Ash liked, he realized. That every time he tried to command Brand, the man looked at him like he might take Ash over his knee at any moment—and even when he acquiesced, he did it in a way that somehow made him the one in control. The one calling the shots.
And there was something sweetly intimate in trusting him to do that.
“I do answer when you ask,” Brand pointed out.
“Yeah…you do.” Ash worried at the inside of his lower lip with his teeth…then told himself it was all right and tentatively settled to press into Brand, tucking up close even if it hurt to move. He was rewarded by a firm, rather possessive hand against the small of his back, curling in his hospital smock and holding him close and shooting liquid heat down to his stomach and up from his inner thighs. He shivered, resting his head against Brand’s shoulder. “This…thing…with us…it’s weird, isn’t it?”
“It is what it is,” rumbled against his ear.
“It’s…kind of quick…”
“Serendipity happens.” Brand’s hand smoothed slowly up his back, as if mapping him, shaping him. “We each had an absence in our lives. That we happen to fill each other’s absences can make things seem to fall together rather quickly.”
It was such a clinical answer—and it left Ash rather disquieted, biting back a protest. “I guess that’s what it is, isn’t it.” He stared at the wrinkles of suit coat and shirt just before the tip of his nose, and only held that much tighter to Brand. “We’re easy for each other. Filling a need.”
Even if that explanation left Ash feeling so very empty.
“Yes,” Brand replied—only to let out that patient, almost fondly exasperated sigh again, his voice softening. “I am telling you the answer you seem to want to hear, young Master Ashton.” He captured Ash’s hand against his chest, then lifted it to kiss his knuckles. “That does not mean that answer is the truth.”
“I want the truth. Don’t lie to me,” Ash demanded. “If you want me to trust you, don’t ever lie to me. Not even if you think it’s what I want to hear.”
Brand studied him gravely. A shadow hovered over him, unspoken and dark. “I don’t think you’re ready to hear what I have to say.”
“Tell me anyway,” Ash whispered, even if his own voice was almost lost to the half-frightened cry of his pulse.
For an instant, doubt flickered across those elegant, subtly lined features, sinking the faint marks of age deeper into Brand’s handsome face. He searched Ash’s face as though looking for some answer there, then murmured,
“I want you to depend on me.”
Ash frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t understand. I…I already depend on you. Isn’t that your job?”
“No, young Master Ashton,” Brand corrected gently. “I want you to be dependent on me. I want you to need me until you are helpless without me. I want you to want me to control you.”
Ash stared at Brand. Brand met his gaze in waiting, expectant silence, as if waiting for it to sink in. For the pieces to come together into something that Ash could understand.
What he understood were the words helpless and control.
Even if he didn’t understand why they sent a breathless tremor through him, something wild and hot in his chest, in the pit of his stomach, that he told himself could only be nervousness, fear.
“O-oh,” he fumbled out. “Is this like…Dom stuff?”
“No. Not quite. Not in the conventional sense, at least. No whips, no cuffs, no collars, no chains.”