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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

LIAM

Sitting on the couch, I leisurely stroke my cock as Sasha’s glistening fingers repeatedly disappear into her dripping cunt. Watching her pleasure herself is a heavenly fucking sight. One I fucking can’t get enough of.

She fucks herself hard with her gaze fixated on the floor between her knees. “Eyes on me,” I command. Her eyes don’t pull from the spot they’re focused. “I want to see your eyes as you make yourself come undone. Let me watch how sorry you are.”

Ignoring my instruction, she silently slides over her hand. Her movements grow robotic and completely devoid of any enjoyment. Something isn’t right… “Sasha.” I try to hide my concern as I speak her name.

My calling her name goes unanswered, and I let my cock fall from my hand as I move toward her. When I slip my fingers under her chin, I lift her face from the floor and find tears streaming down her face. Her eyes are glassy. They stare in my direction, but she isn’t looking at me. She’s looking through me. Her fingers continue to work industriously between her legs, but she’s… vacant.

This isn’t subspace… This is something completely different.

“Sasha, sweetheart,” I whisper, lightly swiping tears from her face as I desperately search the couch cushion for the plug remote. Finding it and fumbling for the button, I struggle to turn it off fast enough. Fuck. I drop to my knees with pained desperation. Slamming into the hardwood floor in front of her, I mutter, “Fuck, mo mhuirnín . What did they do to you?”

What did I do to you?

Reaching between her legs, I tenderly grasp her hand and pull it from inside her. I place a soft kiss against it and press it over the distressed thump of my heart. Gently, I scoop her into my arms and lift us both from the floor. Her heart is pounding so hard that it’s reverberating against my arm as I hold her. “I don’t know where you went,” I whisper against the top of her head as I carry her down the hall to our room, “but I need you to know that you’re safe with me, mo mhuirnín. ”

I lay her on the bed, and she curls into a ball with her eyes closed. Her chest rises and falls with a sputtered, choppy motion, matching her heavy, ragged breaths. Oh, sweetheart… As much as I hate to leave her for even a second, I don’t want her to wake up in the state she’s in. I step into the bathroom just long enough to grab a wet washcloth and a towel to tend to her.

“I’m going to take care of you,” I promise, wiping the trails of mascara from her cheeks. Softly, I lift her hand from the bed and clean the arousal from her fingers. I wash all evidence of our scene from her thighs, carefully extract the plug from her, and clean any remnants of lubricant from between her cheeks.

Haphazardly dropping everything on the floor beside the bed, I quickly grab two pairs of my sweatpants and a hoodie from the closet. I slip the far too-big sweatpants up her bare legs and pull the oversized hoodie over her head, then dress myself in the remaining pair of pants before climbing into bed with her. Resting against the headboard, I pull her listless body between my legs and rest her head against my chest. “I’m here, sweetheart,” I mumble against her as I stroke her hair. “Whenever you’re ready to come back, I’m here.”

Sasha’s heart rate slows, and her breathing becomes less erratic as she rests against me. I let her sleep against me and continue to comfort her as I wait for her to rouse.

The sun creeps over the city, and Sasha startles awake in my hold. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” I whisper, tenderly tightening my embrace and pressing my lips to her forehead. “You scared me for a minute, mo mhuirnín .”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“Hey”—I tip her face up to mine and shake my head—“You don’t need to apologize, but I think we need to have a very serious talk about your safewords.”

“I… I couldn’t,” she stammers.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, I respond, “ Always . You can always use them. And I will adhere to them. Full stop.”

“I was fine.” Her voice is soft and timid. “And then I wasn’t.”

“There are nerves, and there is hesitation.” I speak softly, wanting to impart that I’m not upset with her. “The second you have an inkling of feeling unsafe or thinking we need to stop, you need to use them. Because I don’t ever want you to disappear on me like that again.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me,” I insist.

Taking a deep breath, she lightly exhales, “I promise, Sir.”