Chapter 20: Soph

I slid open the wardrobe door and trailed a finger along the ties hanging at the far end. Silky fabric caressed my fingertips as I paused on a cornflower blue one. I tugged it off the rack.

Still in the same position as I'd left him, Ed's eyes dropped to the tie in my hand when I strolled back towards the bed. I hopped onto the mattress and clambered over him again.

"Want control?" I dangled the tie from between my knuckles and raised a brow.

He swallowed. "Don't tease me."

"I'm not."

His fist closed around the condom still lying on his chest. "Are you thinking eyes or hands?"

"Hands."

A deep, almost pained breath escaped him. "Fuck."

I smiled. "Right answer?"

"Don't get cocky." He tore open the condom wrapper and kicked off his boxers. "I've got plenty of other ties in there."

"Mm, sounds fun."

A familiar glint sparkled in his eyes as he glanced across at me before rolling on the condom.

"Do you want me on my front or back?" I asked.

With every inch of control I offered, he relaxed some more. I had no doubt he was still going to fuck me hard, but if it relieved some of his emotional turmoil, he could thrash out the rest physically.

"Back. I want to look at you."

I reached down to shimmy off my pants, then extended my arms above my head. His fingers were steady while he secured the tie around my wrists, brow furrowed in concentration.

"How's that?" he murmured.

"Perfect."

He sat back on his heels and dragged a hungry gaze down the centre of my body.

"Spread your legs and show me how wet your pussy is."

My thighs quivered as I widened them. His intense scrutiny of my body had my heartbeat throbbing in my clit.

"Your body is so fucking perfect," he rasped.

"It's yours," I said, because that was what he needed to hear.

"Touch yourself. Don't come yet."

His hand curled around the base of his cock. Fuck, if this turned into some mutual masturbation session, not coming would be a tall order. Nevertheless, I manoeuvred my restrained wrists down my body and wrangled free a finger to brush through my folds.

"Fuck..." I pressed my head back into the pillow and bucked my hips. I was delirious with need, my clit engorged and sensitive.

He groaned. "Carry on. You look so fucking hot."

Keeping my touch light, I slowly massaged myself in soft circles. Each time I got close to coming, I dipped down into my wetness, swirled my fingers to gather the liquid, then put myself back through the pleasurable torture once the impending orgasm had simmered away.

"Okay. Enough."

I breathed a sigh of relief and hooked a foot around his waist to pull him closer.

He obliged, lining himself up, positioning my tied hands above my head, then curling his fingers around each of my knees. As the tip of his cock pushed an inch inside me, he brought my knees up to my chest and kissed the back of one thigh.

Then he sunk into me, sliding so deep that a strangled cry left my throat.

"Fuck. Shit."

"Tell me if it's too much."

Keeping my knees against my chest, he dragged out then slammed back in again.

It was beyond intense. I felt him in every atom of my body. But he was slow, controlled, making me take each thick inch of him while giving me enough time to adjust.

He let go of one knee and flattened his forearm against the back of my thighs to keep me in position. With his free hand, he floated a gentle path down my stomach and over my clit.

It took only seconds for me to shatter, clenching around his cock as I sobbed through the intensity.

"Fuck." He threw his head back as he continued to stroke me through the orgasm. "Yes."

As soon as my orgasm had died down, he started to pound into me, hard and fast. It was deep, and I was sensitive, but I was also a glutton for pain and I knew how much he needed this. How much he needed to feel in control.

But even I had a limit.

"Need you to...slow down." I pinched my eyes shut and dug my head into the pillow, nails biting into my palms from my restrained, clenched hands.

He instantly eased off, the strokes shallower and slower. And when he found his release, he buried his moan in my neck and mumbled something incoherent about how much he loved me.

As we cuddled together afterwards, the tension was gone.

"I need you to know you're my priority," he said. "You're more important than my career. If this lifestyle—this fanbase—ever becomes too much for you, tell me and I'll retire."

I trickled my fingers over his sweat-licked abs. "I won't do that, Ed. It would need to be your decision."

"It would be my decision, due to how I feel about you."

"That's not what I mean. If I wasn't in the picture, you wouldn't retire. If I wasn't affected by this, you wouldn't retire. You'd be retiring because of me, regardless of whether you make the decision yourself."

"...And?"

"And then we might be happy for a year, or two, or ten. One day we'll start getting under each other's skin, like every couple, and you're bound to start thinking about how you gave up your career for me. Then one day we'll have a massive fight and you'll blurt it out. You might not mean it, but you won't be able to take it back and I won't be able to unhear it."

A long silence stretched between us, eventually interrupted by a gentle sigh of acknowledgement.

"Okay."

I tipped my head to look at him and traced a finger along his sharp jawline.

"But I can promise I'll always communicate. You don't need to waste energy agonising over how I feel. I'll be honest."

"Always? No bottling it up? Pretending not to care?"

"I swear." I kissed his shoulder. "Your career's important, but so is our relationship. I'll never undermine it by hiding things from you."

*

I left Ed sleeping, hoping he'd wake up in a better mood now we'd talked it over. As I meandered through the corridors in search of a room to write in, Mark's deep voice called my name from within his office.

I backtracked and stuck my head through the door, offering a polite smile.

"Got a minute?" he asked.

Nodding, I took a seat opposite him. After closing his laptop lid, Mark rose from behind his desk and strode towards the door. Quietly, he eased it shut, then returned to his chair.

Unease stirred my stomach. This was going to be an awkward conversation, I could tell. Usually Mark didn't give a fuck about people overhearing him.

"Firstly," he said, his green eyes steady on mine, "I want to apologise for what happened yesterday evening."

"Danny was following protocol," I said. Then, to lighten the tension, I added, "If I was in charge, I'd prioritise Ed, too."

Mark didn't react to my joke. His gaze remained fixed on me, unwavering, unrelenting, unaffected.

"Protocol will be changing." He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. Intimidating biceps bulged through his shirt sleeves. "You're just as important. Don't ever think differently."

"I mean..." I wet my lips and summoned my courage. "I'm not. It's nice of you to pretend I am, but he's—"

"It doesn't matter what he is or who he is. You're both human beings. His safety isn't more important than yours."

I lowered my eyes and brushed a thumb over the silver turtles circling my ring finger.

"I can't sit here and promise that what happened last night will never happen again. What I can promise is that you'll never be without a close protection team—my close protection team—going forwards."

"Okay. That makes me feel better, thanks."

It did make me feel marginally better, but also I wanted this conversation to end, and if that meant telling Mark what he needed to hear, so be it.

"I'm also assigning myself to each operation from now until the foreseeable future. My men follow protocol—that is what they're trained to do and what I expect them to do—but I will always be able to adapt if needed."

Fuck. This whole thing was a shit show. All because I had a stupid, irrational fear.

"Not necessary," I said. "That'll mess up your shift pattern. I'm the one with the issue. I'll get counselling or—"

"It won't mess up the shift pattern. Let me worry about that."

I tried a different tactic.

"What about your family? You can't plan your life around what Ed and I are doing."

"It's not my life. It's just for the foreseeable future."

He didn't comment on my question about family. Did he have one? Surely he did. Last time I'd asked, he'd dodged the question then, too.

"But how will—?"

"This wasn't intended to be a debate." His sharp tone returned. "I'm just apologising for what happened and telling you that things will be different next time."

"Fine."

The tension in his shoulders loosened, and he unfolded his arms to rest his large hands on the desk. Everything about Mark was large. His height. His broad shoulders. His muscles. He'd keep me safe. It'd be okay.

"Is there anything else I can help with?" he asked, like he hadn't been the one to call me in here.

"No."

He stared at me, like he knew I was sulking but had no intention of indulging me.

"Okay. You know where I am if you need me."

***

Thank you for reading :) xx

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Mark's got her back ❤️