by Sarah Fine
I obeyed, realizing that it was like standing in front of a mirror. I could see my own reflection clearly. And I could see Asa looming behind me. I watched as his hand slid from my throat to my breast. My fingernails dug into the wood of the window frame as he peeled back the fabric to expose my skin to the cool air wafting in from the frigid outside. I bit my lip as he rolled my nipple between his fingers. There was a current of fear that ran just beneath my skin. I wasn’t so much afraid that he would hurt me—first, because I could take pain, and second, because he’d insisted on a safe word—I was more afraid of making a wrong move and knocking him from whatever world he’d stepped into, the one where he was totally in control.
Because control was what Asa needed to feel safe, what he needed to feel himself again. It had been stripped from him completely. He’d been forced to make terrible choices about which parts of him to surrender and which parts to hold on to until the end. He bore scars both visible and invisible because of the damage they’d done as they’d tried to take his will from him. To regain his sense of self, he needed his control back. And tonight I would give it to him.
So I stayed perfectly still as his hands slid over me, claiming what was his. He touched every part of my body, unhurried, his eyes riveted on my skin, on his hands running over it. The sensation was overwhelming, and I fought to stay quiet to keep from distracting him.
“Mattie.” He was on his knees behind me, and his hot breath was on my thigh. “You’re not a fucking blow-up doll.”
“What . . . sir?” My voice was quiet from disuse and strained because his fingers were stroking along my inner thighs, closer and closer to where I wanted them but not quite there.
“I want to hear you, baby. I want to feel you. If it hurts, I want to hear you cry out. If it feels good, I want you to moan. When I make you come, I want you to scream. And we’re both going to know I did it to you.”
Even the words, even the thought, got me halfway there. I pushed my ass back a little, closer to his face. His fingers squeezed my thighs hard enough to bruise. “Yes, sir.”
I cried out as he smacked me again, hard. “Good girl.” Then he pulled my panties aside and his tongue was inside me, and my thoughts blanked out, leaving me aware only of him, only of his hands and his mouth and his heat. I held on to that window frame like it could save me as he flicked his tongue over my clit and made me gasp.
“Open your eyes, Mattie. Watch yourself. Watch what I’m doing to you.”
“Yes, sir,” I said in a choked voice. He had pushed me so close to the brink that I was already skating along its edge. My lips and hands tingled. My reflection showed my flushed cheeks and the unfocused look in my eyes. And the shadow of Asa rising behind me and pressing in close. I listened, shivering, to the clinking of metal as he undid his belt, the whisper of his zipper as he lowered it. I was dying to turn around, to peel off his shirt and see his body, to pull off his pants and explore him. But there would be time for that later. Tonight was his, and he could hide or bare himself when he wanted.
Asa looked me over, his head tilted. He reached forward and wrenched my bra down so that my breasts were free, then shoved my panties halfway down my thighs. His fingers slid between my legs, slipping along my most sensitive parts while I moaned. “Keep those eyes open,” he said, giving me another smack. “Do it or I’m going to use the belt.”
Startled by the threat, I tensed, but then Asa began to stroke me, and I felt the hot length of him against me and melted again. I watched his fingers curl into the flesh of my hips, felt him pull me back so that I was bent over, holding myself up against the window frame, staring at the wild sight of him, fully clothed, pants hanging open around his narrow hips. Hunger and need quickened my breath.
“How much have you wanted this?” he asked quietly as he caressed me with his shaft, as he slid it along my folds, all the time rubbing my clit until I squirmed to keep from coming too soon.
“So much that I dreamed of it, sir,” I replied, panting. And still those dreams had nothing on this, the visceral terror and tension of it, the craving. “So much that sometimes I couldn’t think of anything else.”
Our eyes met in the window glass as I felt the tip of him enter me. “That’s nothing compared to how much I wanted you.”
And then Asa Ward slid himself inside me, slow and relentless, and by the time his hips were pressed to my back, I came apart, constricting around him. As if my body didn’t want to let his go, as if it already understood. “Dammit, Mattie,” he growled as he ground against me.
After that, I just held on tight. I moved however he told me to. I kept my eyes open and watched him fuck me, because there is no other word to describe it. He was rough and merciless, and I loved every minute of it, because I could translate the craving in his hard hands, in every thrust. His gaze never strayed from my face in the window glass. I knew he wanted to see his effect on me, and I didn’t try to disguise it, either the pain or the pleasure. I let him have all of it, and it drove him wild. For the first time, I reveled in the tremors under his skin, because I knew he was starting to lose himself in me, that he felt safe enough to let go. I knew he couldn’t have done it with anyone else, not now, not tonight. I was the only one in the whole world who could offer this gift, and my heart ached with joy as he wrapped his arms around my waist and bit my shoulder, as I felt him come inside me.
He was completely quiet as he came, but it was seismic all the same. I shook with his weight and the pain of his teeth, with the ecstasy of his pulsing heat, until I wasn’t sure I could stay upright much longer. “Sir . . . ?” I whispered.
Asa pressed his sweaty forehead to my shoulder blade, then drew back and laid a gentle kiss on the red teeth marks he’d left on my skin. I peered into the window, trying to see his expression, but he turned his face away. He slipped out of my body, but even as he did, he scooped me up into his arms. “Put your head on my shoulder,” he instructed.
I did.
“Arms around my neck.”
I obeyed.
“Gracie, stay.”
Gracie whined, but she stayed put as Asa carried me up the stairs to the loft bedroom. Despite the release, the tension was already building again, because I had no idea what he was going to do, what he wanted. Fortunately, he did.
Keeping his face turned away, always just in shadow, he laid me on the bed, took off his T-shirt, and then ripped it until he had a strip of fabric in his hands, which he tied over my eyes. His hands were gentle as he finished undressing me, and I listened as he took off the rest of his clothes. The desire to push the blindfold off my eyes was almost overpowering. Did he have any idea how badly I wanted to see him, how much I wanted to look at his face and his body?
Maybe he did. Maybe denying me those things was turning him on. Maybe he was hiding. Maybe it was both.
Then he was close, winding me impossibly tight as his mouth closed over one of my breasts and I felt the exquisite pull. Not being able to see heightened every other sensation and emotion. He had all the control, but my surrender had its own quiet power. Absolute trust has a sway all to itself. And as he held my wrists to the bed, as he sank into me yet again, I knew he felt it.
What we were doing now was just another version of the dance we did during magical transactions. I gave myself to him, and I knew he would take care of me. That no matter how much it hurt, no matter how rough it got, in the end, Asa would make sure I was okay. He would carry me through. And in that bed, he took me apart and put me back together. It crossed every divide. It erased the past. It blew the future wide open.
He owned my pleasure. He owned my pain. He owned my heart and my body and my soul, and he knew it. He claimed every cell and every thought. He kissed me hard and fucked me hard and then traversed the same territory with absolute gentleness. He kept me off-balance and wanting, but somehow completely satisfied. He kept me scared and uncertain, but somehow completely safe.
“I love you.” I said it over and over. I screamed it. I
sobbed and whimpered and moaned it. I meant it every single time.
And finally, long after I’d lost track of time and of myself, long after I was spent and sweating and sore and so full of love and hope that I wanted to cry, Asa pulled me close, my back to his front. His fingers caressed my face as he untied the blindfold and let me stare into the darkness. He pressed his sweaty cheek to mine and held me tight, his fingers spread over my ribs. “I love you, too, Mattie,” he whispered as I relaxed into his arms. “I always will. Don’t ever forget it.”
I smiled, even as a tear slipped from my eye. “Yes, sir.”
He kissed my temple. “Good girl.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
I slept like a sack of cement. At one point, though, I woke up to find Asa sitting next to the bed, dressed. “It’s still dark,” I muttered.
“Gracie needs to go out. Go back to sleep.”
“’Kay.” I plopped my head back onto the pillow.
The bed dipped as he leaned over to kiss my forehead. “I love you so fucking much,” he said, his voice strained.
I frowned. “You okay?”
“I will be,” he whispered. “Thanks to you.” He kissed me again. “Now go back to sleep. Dream of me.”
I smiled sleepily. “No worries.”
I listened to his footsteps descending the stairs and to the jingle of Gracie’s collar as she rose to her feet. As the door clicked shut, I sank back into my exhausted, happy slumber.
And when I woke up, sunlight piercing through the windows, the day bright and clear, I was alone. I sat up abruptly and looked toward the bathroom, but it was dark, the door open to show me Asa wasn’t there. “Asa?”
Silence.
Memories of Ben’s kidnapping came over me all at once. My stomach clenching, I threw back the covers and walked to the edge of the loft, looking down toward the kitchen, the living room. He wasn’t there. “Gracie?”
More silence.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. Pulling a quilt around me, I clumsily descended the stairs, walking past my discarded jeans and sweater next to the couch. I looked toward the front door.
Asa’s duffel was gone, too.
“Please tell me you didn’t,” I whimpered, my heart pounding. “Please.”
I walked into the kitchen. On the counter there was a scrap of paper with Asa’s cramped handwriting.
Can’t stay. I’m sorry.
The blood drained from my brain as I sank to the floor. “No no no no no,” I muttered, starting to rock as everything inside me melted down and my tears started to fall. “No.”
I don’t know how long I sat there, sobbing, but eventually I became aware of a phone ringing. As I looked around wildly, I spotted my purse near the door and crawled over to it.
“He’s gone,” I whimpered in lieu of “hello.”
“I know,” Keenan said. “He stole an agent’s car when the guy went into the woods to take a piss. When did he leave?”
“I honestly don’t know. At least a few hours ago.”
“Do you think he’s going to hurt himself?”
I thought about that, and a tiny measure of relief soothed the raw wound that had opened up in my heart. “I don’t think so. He took his bag. He has Gracie with him. I . . .” I pressed my lips together, remembering what Asa had said about his relationship with Keenan, the one phrase that had haunted me as I’d thought about getting involved with him. Just another cage. “I think he’s just gone.”
Then I started to cry, and I didn’t stop until Jack and Keenan arrived at the door.
“Hey, Mattie,” Jack said, his voice gentle. “How you holding up?”
“How do I look?” I asked, certain my face was tearstained and pale.
“Fucked,” Jack said.
“Perceptive,” I whispered.
Keenan cleared his throat. “We’re going to keep trying to track him down, Mattie, but . . .”
I waved away his words. “If he doesn’t want to be found, you’re not going to find him.”
“Did he give any hint that he was planning something like this? You guys weren’t here very long,” said Jack. “Did anything happen?”
Something had happened, all right. “I . . .” I sniffled. “I-I think . . . I think maybe he just . . .” My face crumpled as I uttered the devastating words. “I think he just didn’t want to be with me.”
And he’d left in the cruelest way, telling me he loved me only minutes before he walked out the door. I hadn’t even questioned whether he was going to come back. I’d trusted he wouldn’t leave me behind.
“He left me behind,” I said to Keenan, and then I began to cry again, deep sobs that came up from the heart of me. Jack sat down next to me and hesitantly offered his embrace, and I accepted it, needing something to hold me together. I was done. I had nothing left.
“Maybe he’ll change his mind,” said Jack. “Maybe he’ll come back.”
“No, he won’t,” Keenan and I said at the same time, and I pressed my face to Jack’s shoulder to keep from screaming.
Asa was gone. He’d left me behind. He’d taken what he needed from me and walked away, even as I was dreaming about a future with him.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “I don’t know what to do now.”
“You have family in Wisconsin,” Jack said slowly.
“I can’t go back there.” I didn’t belong there anymore. Nothing fit.
“I’ve got an idea, if you’re open to it,” Keenan said. “Join my team.”
I lifted my head from Jack’s shoulder. “You really want me to become an agent? A Headsman?”
He nodded. “You could be a key part of the team I’m building to hunt down the Knedas and Sensilo relics. If you need some distraction, Mattie, this would be a good one. Because it would require all your attention and time.” He gave me a rueful smile. “And trust me. Nothing’s better for heartbreak than plunging yourself into an all-encompassing mission.”
Our eyes met, and I saw the compassion there. He could feel every ounce of my sorrow and pain, and probably remembered feeling the same. “Pay’s not bad, either,” he said quietly. “Full benefits.”
I let out a sniffly laugh. “Company car?”
“When the mission calls for it,” he said. “Come on. You need this. And we need you.”
I looked up at Jack, and he smiled. “Would be kinda nice to have you around, I guess,” he said, giving me a friendly squeeze.
“You don’t have to decide right away,” said Keenan. “We can give you some time.”
I swiped tears from my cheeks and looked around. Unless I wanted to go back to Sheboygan, I had no home to return to. My life had become so entwined with Asa’s that I had no vision of the future without him. Now it stretched in front of me like a cloudy, dusty chalkboard. There had once been writing there, but Asa had erased it all, leaving only the residue. I already knew that if I went out on my own, I’d spend every day wondering where he was, wondering if he’d change his mind, if he’d find me. And I already knew it would slowly eat at me until there was nothing left.
“I don’t need to think about it.” I stood up and faced Keenan. “I’ll take the job.”
Keenan grinned and held out his hand for me to shake. His palm was warm and his grip was strong. “You will not regret this, Mattie.”
Jack patted me on the back. “Guess we’d better get your stuff, then. We’ve got a plane to catch.”
“What?” I blinked at him. “Don’t I . . . don’t you guys have some place like Quantico where I go and train for a while?”
Keenan laughed. “Usually there’s a training process that takes two years. But in your case, we’re going to hit the ground running. We have to get to the Knedas relic before anyone else does. And trust me, now that Brindle’s gone, there isn’t anyone to scare everyone else into staying home. The outfit that ends up with the original Knedas is going to have every advantage, and we’re going to make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
&n
bsp; “So . . . where are we going, exactly?”
Jack grinned. “Patagonia.”
“What?” I yelped.
“A backpacker traveling near Ushuaia took shelter in a remote cave and discovered pottery containing some very familiar-looking runes. It’s the first anyone has seen of that writing system on the continent.”
“So we’re gonna go sniff around and see what we can find,” said Jack.
“Might be dangerous,” said Keenan. “Definitely could use a good reliquary on the team, both to carry some powerful magic in undetected but also to carry anything we find out. Up for it?”
I hugged myself. My body was covered with reminders of Asa, little bruises, a few bite marks, the residual soreness of our intense collision. But it would fade. As would the magic inside the vial of sand I was wearing around my neck. And until then, I would keep moving. Maybe, just maybe, if I went on long enough, this would stop hurting.
I had to try. It was that or let this kill me. Asa had made his choice, and he hadn’t chosen me. Now I needed to find my way without him.
“Cool,” I said, drawing in a deep breath, and with it, summoning the energy for my next adventure. “I’ll get my stuff.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to my team at 47North for all the behind-the-scenes savvy and dedication, without which this series could never have succeeded. To Jason Kirk, thank you for your patience, enthusiasm, and masterminding. To Courtney Miller, thank you for bringing everything together across imprints and projects. To Britt Rogers, thank you for quick responses and awesome support. To Leslie “Lam” Miller, you went over and above on this one and left me in awe—thank you for staying ringside as I wrestled this book into shape. To Jill Taplin, thank you for ushering these stories through the process as they transformed from raw manuscripts to actual novels. To Kimberley Cowser, many thanks for getting the word out and managing all things PR. To my copyeditor, Janice Lee, and my proofreader, Phyllis DeBlanche, thank you for your relentless attention to detail and for leaving the occasional funny and sweet comments in the margins. To Jason Blackburn, thank you for a cover that fits so seamlessly with both the book itself and the overall series. To Paul Morrissey at Jet City Comics, as well as Alex de Campi, Dennis Calero, and Andrew Dalhouse, thank you for bringing Asa to life and introducing him to new fans.