Rory 

At eight, I was in position. The hairs on my arms rose as I felt him before seeing him. From the open archway, Aidan watched me for what felt like an eternity before he moved closer. My breath lodged somewhere in my chest as he neared. The man was imposing, whether he was wearing a suit or those damn jeans and loose cotton shirt he was sporting now. However, I'd long ago learned it wasn't the clothes that gave him the air of danger. Nor was it the scar above his right eyebrow or the ink that peeked from the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. No, Aidan's intimidation was all in his dark eyes, the way they took in everything around him, assessing.

Coming to stand in front of me, dangerously close; his crotch at eye level. I didn't flinch, though it was a struggle not to; didn't pull back.

I just stayed exactly where I was; focusing on being the closest I'd ever been having his stiffening cock near my mouth; trying not to drool or beg. Both were equally hard to hold back.

Aidan stared down at me. "Here's how tonight's going to work, Rory," he said, his voice level. "I won't draw blood. Any mark I leave on you will fade in a couple of days. And I'll give you a safe word you can invoke at any time."

He paused and then continued, his voice implacable. "But if you use your safe word, we are done. This isn't about your pleasure. It's about mine. Stay, and you play by my rules."

My nipples tightened and pebbled as he spoke; erect under his attention.

I nodded silently, unable to form words. This was what I'd come for, wasn't it?

An opportunity to show him I could be his equal. Not the silly girl he'd watch grow into a woman. And with him, I could explore all the dark and dirty thoughts and desires that kept me awake at night.

I was sure it was best not to tell him he'd been the star of every single one of those fantasies.

Aidan held my gaze, a mocking smile dancing across his lips. It was the smile that decided it; he was so smug; he expected me to safe word and run for my life.

Nah-ah. Not happening in his lifetime.

I was here to play and play dirty to get what I wanted.

Not to mention how freaking turned on I was.

"Eyes lowered," he instructed.

Holding his for a second longer, they dropped to his feet. I felt him looking at me, the burn of those heavy greys smoothed over every bare inch of me and I'd never felt so exposed.

He walked around me and his silence was, I'd admit, a little unnerving and that he hadn't touched me pissed me off a little too.

"Look at me." His voice was low and calm.

I obeyed.

"When I say jump, what do you say?"

"How high," I whispered.

"How high, Sir," he corrected me.

I bit back my smirk because I knew he didn't want me to call him Sir.

But I would play along.

"Do you like the way I treat you, pet?" A cunning smile curved his lips into something more menacing.

And I didn't like pet—not one little bit. I wasn't anyone's pet. But again, I bit back my response.

And yet I felt my arousal coat the top of my thighs. I was soaking.

I peeked up through my long lashes and no doubt he could see the defiance in my eyes, and it seemed to amuse him.

Like he was winning.

And then it hit me. Hard. Fast.

He was doing this on purpose. Treating me differently.

This wasn't about us discovering something together—something inevitable.

This was his way of pushing me away. Try to make me hate him.

Well, he was gonna have to try much harder.

"Answer the question," he growled.

Hiking my chin. I cocked a challenging eyebrow. "Not even a little bit, Sir."

"Then why are you still here, pet?"

"Because to get what I want. I have to first give you what you want."

He looked taken aback, his dark, thick eyebrows knotting. "Explain. What is it you want?"

"You. Everything, Sir."

My reply startled him, taking two steps back. But he quickly recovered, dismissing it, his face a mask of calm. "And that's why you're staying and will do everything I ask?"

"That," I smiled. "And I'm wet, Sir."

His nostrils flared, and the barely banked heat in his gaze flared hotter.

And if this was chess. This would be check.

"Your safe word is Tinkerbell."

Ah, I'd played Tinkerbell in a school play. He'd helped me with my lines, playing both hero and villain.

"You think you can remember that, pet?"

"Yes, Sir."

He slowly undid each button on his shirt, revealing his bare chest, covered in a dusting of hair. "Then be a good little slut and crawl over to me, undo my pants, and show me how much you want my cock. Suck it."

My lips curved into a saucy smile. Of course, I complied. Happily. And my pussy gleefully gushed.

Dropping into position, I crawled, keeping my eyes on his. Close enough, rising to kneel up, I worked his belt, button and zipper, lowering his trousers to let them drop at his bare feet. He had on tight boxes that barely held captive his impressive erection, arching upward, testing the strength of his waistband.

My mouth watered, having dreamed of this so often.

He stayed completely still, but there was something unspoken between us. Tension filling the room.

Leaning in, I ran my nose along the shielded length, marvelling at both the hardness and thickness before repeating with my lips, adding the scrape of my teeth along the fabric to hear him cluck his tongue, a warning.

"No teeth, pet. Or we'll be starting this off with a few decent slaps to your arse and some proper fucking discipline," he threatened.

I stared up, all wide-eyed and innocent. He wouldn't be the first to redden my arse... but if I played this game right, he'd be the last.

My eyes threw him enough sass that his jaw ticked.

"Maybe I should punish you anyway, for teasing me in your bedroom. Stripping naked..."

I knew he'd been watching.

"Don't you think, pet, it's really fucked up that I had a camera placed in your bedroom?" he said, more to himself.

"And yet you still watched." I made sure my tone was playful.

He just stared down at me and then I saw it.

Guilt.

Nope. Not heading down that lonely road. He had zero to feel guilty about. We were both consenting adults.

"I hoped you'd watch, and I took my time, dragging out my orgasm, Sir." Daddy. I whispered in my head. "Wishing you were right there, watching in person. Telling me what to do."

He sucked in more air than I thought possible. "And I'd be even more of a monster to have watched you finger that pretty little cunt and fuck my hand, wishing it was you."

I knew it. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him. I sucked in a breath and, with a slight tremble in my hands, hooked my fingers inside his underwear.

"You should hate me. I'm a fucking monster."

I stopped.

Hate him? I could never hate him. "You don't have to hide the monster." My eyes flicked to his groin, then back up. "You don't frighten me, Aidan."

His jaw clenched tight.

"And I'm not the silly, naïve virgin you sent packing that night."

Was that his tooth cracking?

I knew my words wouldn't change his thoughts. Actions, however...

My finger set to work on his boxers, gently tugging to hiccup a giggle when his steel erection slapped against his abs.

My lips parted on their own accord.

Oh, my.

His cock, dark purple, thick and veiny, was ever so curved and I expected it would be perfect for stroking a little girl's g-spot... my g-spot.

I bit back a moan, as it was every bit as impressive as I'd hoped. Instinctively biting into my lower lip, a dollop of pre-cum oozed out.

Unable to resist, I leaned in and swiped it off with my tongue and a hum.

Aidan jumped back, almost tripping backwards "Fuck!" Shifting faster than a fox dropped into a hen-house he yanked up his boxers and pants.

What the? Had I done something wrong? "Did I hurt you?" I asked in a panic.

"Fuck," he repeated, backing away from me. "We can't do this," he yelled. The vein in his temple throbbed.

"Why not?" My voice hitched as I sank back down to rest on my heels. "...You, you promised." My voice was small, and needy. "Please, Aidan..." I begged.

"No! This—" His arm flung out, locking himself up tight. "Changes everything."

I stayed exactly where I was, watching him pace up and down, stomach rolling around as if I'd been tossed into wild rapids.

He stopped abruptly but didn't glance my way. "I'm so fucking sorry," his voice sounded as tortured as my heart. "Never think I don't love you, Firefly."

And there it was... Firefly. He still saw me as a child. My chest deflated as I watched him turn away and scarper out of the room.

As his footsteps retreated and the front door slammed, I picked myself up, feeling embarrassed and humiliated, shaking like a leaf, biting back the tears that now threatened to spill.

What could I do?

Nothing.

Looking around, I wanted something to numb the pain. The humiliation. I saw a drinks cabinet. Pulling out bottles, I found the most expensive-looking bottle I could find... Glengoyne fifty-year-old whisky.

I'd never heard of it.

Popping the top, the smell hit me first. Like Aidan, it was dark and seductive. Not bothering with a glass, I knocked back a good gulp.

And almost choked on the stuff.

It burned—like a motherfucker, and I couldn't have stopped the tears if I tried.

Slamming the top back in place, I put it back and swiped away the overflow from my eyes.

Walking across the plush rug, my bare feet met with cool tile. But I felt nothing. Turning left, toward the front door and forgetting all about being naked, I yanked it open and stepped out into the warm night.

Only darkness greeted me. Oh, and there sat his driver—waiting.

Not caring about giving him an eyeful, I spun around and went back inside. Slamming the door, cursing.

Light-footing it up the stairs. I should have gone to my room, dressed and packed up my shit and got the hell out of there.

I'd embarrassed myself enough. Hadn't I?

Apparently not. I tortured myself some more by finding his bedroom.

Perhaps I was a masochist?

How did I know it was his room? Because he had pictures of me and my mum dotted everywhere. Oh, and it smelled like him too. I could picture him sleeping here as my eyes tracked over the bed.

He had one picture of me beside his bed. Drifting closer, it was from a few years ago. I was eighteen, maybe nineteen? I had on a white bikini and I honestly didn't recall him taking the picture.

All the adrenalin left my small body as I sat on his bed. With all the excitement and lack of sleep over the past forty-eight hours, I suddenly felt tired.

I lay back, lifting my legs and spread one hand out, closing my eyes, pretending he was here with me.

Opening my eyes, I tilted my head up and grabbed the pillow next to me, fetching it to my face, I pressed my nose into the soft material and inhaled. It smelled just like him too, spicy and dark, with a hint of peppermint.

And gave me hope.

He would have to come back sometime, right? And when he did... he would find me right here, in his bed.