by West, Harper
Marking my territory.
She looked amazing. Hair a mess, face red and tear stained, skin damp and flushed. Her pussy was a sticky mess with her own juices and her stomach was a mess with mine. She looked owned and wrecked, and I felt that sense of pride in a job well done.
And then I started to untie her, moving on to the next part of the process where I took care of her until she had come back to herself enough to get dressed and leave if she wanted, feeling like it was a privilege to be able to do so.
Chapter 7
Ashlyn
Killian was always good in bed. Or wherever it was he'd chosen to drive me insane that evening. But there was something about the way he'd been on Saturday that I couldn't get out of my head.
I was at the coffee shop on Sunday morning, greeting the before church crowd and making drinks as fast as I could, and my mind was stuck on Killian and the way he'd made me beg for him.
I knew he got off on the begging. He was a sadist, after all, and having someone else in his power was the peak for him or whatever.
It wasn't the first time he'd broken me down into a begging mess, and it wouldn't be the last.
It was the things he'd said. He'd made me tell him I belonged to him, that he was the only one who could fuck me the way I needed to be fucked.
And I'd said it all, so far gone into the bliss of multiple orgasms that I couldn't have stopped myself even if I wanted to. I wanted to please him, and I wanted him to keep pleasing me.
But now that I was out of the situation and had some distance from it, I could admit it was strange. He'd never acted like that before, and combined with the conversation we'd had before the sex had started, it was clear he was jealous of Simon.
Which was... interesting.
There could be any number of reasons for it. For the moment, I was his wife, and maybe he didn't like the idea of someone getting in the way of that. Maybe he was worried that if I met someone more compatible, I'd call it off and he wouldn't get his money.
He'd never met Simon before, so it couldn't be about not liking him as a person.
I supposed I could just ask him what the deal was, but judging from how he'd lashed out, I didn't know if he'd appreciate that.
"And why should I care either way?" I muttered under my breath.
"Are you talking to me?"
I jumped at the sudden voice and turned to see Simon standing there, like I'd summoned him to me with my thoughts.
I forced a quick smile, trying to make it look like I hadn't been lost in my own thoughts, thinking about sex with Killian just a second before he walked in.
"Hi," I said. "What can I get you?"
He smiled and came to lean against the counter on the customer side, earning himself a scandalized look from the older church woman who was standing near the end, waiting for her drink to be made.
"Well, first I need coffee," Simon replied. "I'm going to be in the workshop today, and I feel like I'm dragging."
"Espresso?" I asked, and he nodded. "And second?"
"I... wanted to make sure we were okay. After the other night."
He pushed his glasses up his nose, and there was no mistaking the hopeful expression on his face when he looked at me.
I'd told him we were fine before, but he looked like he was actually worried about it, so I smiled at him, more naturally this time.
"Simon, we're fine," I said. "Really. I'm flattered more than anything, and like I said, I just need some time to think."
"I know. And I promise I'm not here to pressure you or anything. I just would hate to think of losing you as a friend because I couldn't keep my mouth to myself in a moment of weakness."
He described it like it was much worse than a chaste kiss on his couch, and I laughed, shaking my head at him. "I promise you haven't lost me as a friend. You don't need to worry about that."
"Okay. Good. Great. That's a relief."
I punched in his drink order and went to pull the shots myself, while Amanda, who was working the counter with me, took his money. It was probably not the best idea to be discussing all of this while I was at work, but no one was really paying attention.
I handed Simon his drink and he took it gratefully. "Thank you. Do you think... would you like to get dinner this upcoming weekend, maybe? I'm going to be busy during the week, but it would be nice to see you when I have some time. Just as friends, I mean," he rushed to add. "No pressure."
I bit my lip, considering. I couldn't blow off dinner with Killian, or it would turn into a whole thing, and I really didn't have the energy to deal with that.
"Maybe Saturday," I told him. "I have to see what my work schedule looks like, but I should be free."
He smiled at me, looking relieved, like he'd expected me to say no.
"Great," he said again. "I'll see you then hopefully. I'm off to go play with hot glass."
"Be careful."
"Always." Simon winked at me and was out the door with a wave, after dropping his change in the tip jar.
"You know," Amanda said once he was gone. "I don't know if all these guys are your lovers or what, but they tip well."
I blushed darkly and turned to stare at her. "All what guys?"
"You know who I mean. That guy and the one who's always wearing a suit. They come in here, they flirt with you, and they leave money in the tip jar. If you're playing the field or whatever, it's working out well for us."
I just gaped at her for a second, not even sure how to address that. Killian made a habit of leaving generous tips, but I was pretty sure that was just him needing to show off more than anything else. It wasn't because he cared or anything, probably. And Simon knew what it was like to work for minimum wage or less, so it probably meant more coming from him. But the most important thing was—
"I am not 'playing the field.’" I made the air quotes and all. "I have no idea what you even mean by that."
Amanda just smirked, looking unconvinced. "Right. Of course. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with weighing your options. Or having multiple partners if that's what you're into. If they're both into it, then live your best life, you know?"
I shook my head because I really didn't know, and she was closer to the truth than she even knew. "Amanda, they're just friends."
Her answering snort was heavy with disbelief. "Right. Sure. I'm just gonna say this. You might see them as friends, but I really doubt that's how they see you."
"How would you even know that?" I demanded. "You don't know them."
"I've seen them in here enough times. The fancy one even comes in when you're not here sometimes and looks for you. He still tips when you're not here, which means he cares about more than impressing you. It's kinda nice."
That was news to me. I knew the coffee shop was close to one of the many buildings Killian went to when he had to deal with his affairs and all, but I had sort of figured he only came in when he wanted to pester me.
Looking back, I could see how that was a little selfish of me to assume. Maybe he just wanted coffee. There was nothing wrong with that.
"Okay," I said. "That doesn't mean there's anything going on between us."
Amanda shrugged. "It doesn't, but I still think there is. It's none of my business either way, though, so don't mind me."
Don't mind her. It was easier said than done now that she'd gone and brought it up in a way I couldn't ignore. She went off to the back to get more beans for another pot of blonde roast, and I stood there like an idiot, trying to work through the complicated tangle of my feelings.
In a way, she wasn't wrong. Simon had feelings for me, and Killian was my husband on paper, so they were more than my friends. I'd thought I was doing a good job of keeping things casual when we were in public, but maybe I could have been doing a better job. Maybe I needed to tell them to stop coming in altogether if it was going to stir up gossip.
The last thing I wanted was for the careful compartments of my life to start bleeding into each other.
; Not two hours later, I was wiping down the counter and getting ready to end my shift when the door opened and I turned to do my usual greeting, only to see Killian walking inside.
For once, he wasn’t wearing a power suit, and instead had on dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his forearms since it was warmer outside than it had been in a while.
He glanced around and then smiled at me, coming over to the counter.
For crying out loud. Both of them in one day.
“What do you want?” I asked, which was a far cry from the greeting I’d given Simon, but considering the relationship I had with Killian usually, I thought it was appropriate. And we still hadn’t really talked about how the day before had gone and the way he’d been rougher and more intense than usual, so I wasn’t feeling like being smiley and open with him just then.
Luckily Amanda was in the back again, taking her break, so I didn’t have to deal with her knowing looks or whatever.
Killian just arched an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by my less than warm greeting. He ran fingers through his hair as he came up to the counter.
“An iced coffee today, I think. It’s a beautiful day outside.”
I frowned at him, not sure what his deal was. He was never that cheery unless he had something to hold over my head, and I wondered if he’d gone to see Eve or some other woman to get back at me for the Simon thing.
I wouldn’t put it past him.
“Sure,” I said. “Plain?”
“Caramel.”
“Right.”
I rang him up and watched this time as he paid with his credit card but slipped a twenty into the tip jar anyway. No wonder the other baristas liked him so much, then, if he was doing that even when I wasn’t there.
Since I was alone at the front, I made his drink as well, pumping the caramel syrup in and adding the coffee and ice. I could make the drink in my sleep at that point, but I took my time, not really ready to face him just yet.
Killian waited patiently, not making any smart comments or talking at all, and something like anxiety buzzed under my skin because it wasn’t like him. He seemed like he was in a good mood, but usually that was when it was the hardest to get him to shut up.
“Are you okay?” I asked finally, handing over the drink and eyeing him carefully.
“I’m fine,” he answered. “I have a question for you.”
“Okay,” I replied, already a little nervous about it. “Go ahead.”
“What are you doing this weekend?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s a stupid question, considering.”
“Consider Friday a given, yes. The rest of the weekend, I mean.”
Simon's invitation was burning a hole in the back of my brain, but I had told him I'd have to see if I could make it. And now Killian wanted me to something with him. Weekends were technically Killian's, in exchange for me being able to do whatever I wanted during the week without having to deal with him.
I sighed internally.
"Why? What do you want?"
He made a face and sighed back. "The pleasure of your company. I have to go see my mother this weekend."
"You want me to come with you to see your mother?" I asked, shocked and ready to go ahead and tell him a hard and fast no. From what he'd told me about her, I had no desire to meet her or interact with her in any way.
"No," he said. "God, no. That would be the world's biggest disaster. Even if it would be entertaining to watch you put her in her place. No. There's a cabin up near where she lives that I own. Well, my father owned it, but it was left to me. It's relaxing and secluded. Away from everything. I wondered if you'd like to have a little retreat with me.
I blinked, surprised. We'd never gone anywhere other than dinner and that was always within the city limits or close to it. A cabin in the middle of nowhere sounded like either a way to go get murdered or a romantic getaway, and neither of those were things I associated with Killian and me.
I wondered what his angle was.
"Is this about Simon?" I asked, and watched his face close down.
"Why would it be about him?"
"I don't know. You've never asked me to go anywhere with you before, and then when you found out I've been sort of seeing someone else, you all of a sudden want me to go on a retreat to the middle of nowhere. It just seems convenient."
"I believe I said I just wanted the pleasure of your company," he replied, and his tone was sharp.
"Simon already asked for that for the weekend," I said, just to see how he'd react.
There was a momentary tightening of his fingers on the cup in his hand and he looked away. I could tell it was really bothering him because otherwise he would have been better at hiding the reaction.
When he looked back to me, he was smiling again, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So that's your choice, then?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I didn't say that. He just wants to have dinner. We can do that any time. Maybe I think some peace and quiet sounds nice. "
"You do know I'll still be there with you, don't you?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.
I shrugged. "Sure. I've learned to ignore you, though."
That made him snort, and whatever coldness I'd seen in his eyes warmed up enough that he looked normal again, and maybe a little smug, too. "Well, let me know, then, and I'll make the arrangements."
"Sure," I said. "I'll text you."
He smiled at me and lifted his drink in a toasting motion before he headed for the door.
I sighed, shaking my head and then nearly jumped a foot when Amanda's voice from behind me went "Yeah, that seemed really friendly."
I didn't even have anything to say to that.
Chapter 8
Ashlyn
It worked out with my schedule that I had the weekend off, and I told Simon I didn't have to work but did have some things for school that I needed to get done so I couldn't meet him for dinner that weekend.
He said it was fine, but I could hear the disappointment in his voice, and I felt bad for lying to him. But it wasn't like I could tell him the truth. Which presented the bigger issue of how I was either going to let him down gently because there was no way I could string him along for six months or what I was going to tell him to explain Killian's presence in my life if I wanted to be with him.
The issue was that I didn't know if I wanted that.
I didn't know what I wanted.
My head was a mess when it came to Simon and Killian, and while marrying the latter had solved basically all of my money issues, it had just opened up a whole new can of worms with almost everything else.
Killian came to pick me up on Friday afternoon, after my last class of the week. I'd had just enough time to shower and change and throw some things in an overnight bag before he was knocking on my door.
I opened it, letting him in. "I'll just be another minute. I only got home like twenty minutes ago."
"Take your time," he said, waving me off.
I gave him a look and then ran back to my room to finish packing.
It was so weird, every time he was in my apartment. I was so aware of the differences between his home and mine, and I could just feel him cataloging everything, making mental notes about my bad taste or whatever. He probably couldn't care less about it, all things considered, but my brain had always been good at working overtime when it really shouldn't have been.
He didn't say anything, though, just smiling and asking if I was ready when I emerged with my bag.
We stopped at a drive thru, of all things, and ordered some quick dinner for the road, and Killian didn't even seem to care that I was eating a sloppy burger and tater tots in his car that cost more than everything I owned combined.
All in all, it was a good drive. Killian didn't talk much to me, anyway. He had a phone call that lasted longer than I could ever imagine talking to anyone about taxes, and I amused myself watching the trees whip by as we left the city.
I knew Killian only visited h
is mother every once in a while, fulfilling his ‘son’ duties by having lunch or dinner with her and getting his doses of her terrible personality before he could escape.
I wondered if it bothered him that his mother was less than warm and treated him poorly, but I wasn't going to ask. There wasn't anything I could do to help if he was upset about it, and since I had parents who were annoying but actually still good parents, it seemed like sort of a slap in the face for me to put my nose in his business like that.
So I kept my mouth shut and waited to get to where we were going.
It was only a little bit more than an hour from the city, but it was interesting to see the buildings and billboards of the city give way to trees and a lake and miles of road with nothing but greenery on either side.
It reminded me a little of the town I’d grown up in, with its rolling hills and little quiet streets, and I could feel myself starting to relax more and more the further we got from the city.
Finally, we pulled off onto a side street that wound its way up a hill and into a thicket of trees. Sitting up on the hill and back away from the road was a massive house made of wood and stone.
A ‘cabin’, Killian had called it, and I was pretty sure he had no idea what that word actually meant if he thought this was one.
It was bigger than my childhood home and Simon’s house put together, sprawling over several acres at the top of the hill. It was remote and beautiful, though, and I rolled down the window as we drove, letting the crisp spring air blow past my face as I looked up at it.
“That’s not a cabin,” I felt obliged to point out, just because I had to know if he knew that. “That’s a wooden mansion.”
He snorted, sounding amused. “It’s just what it was called in the deed when it was passed to me. The Abernathy Cabin Property.”
“You Abernathys need to learn to scale up when you’re naming things.”
Killian laughed softly at that and kept driving until we were pulling into the stone paved driveway.
I hopped out and stretched, shivering slightly in my thin jacket. The weather had swung back to being colder than before, and I was eager to get inside and maybe have a hot bath while Killian went to see his mother.