“We’re nothing without our reputation,” he muses, but I can tell he’s already moved on. Whatever he’s thinking of now, it’s not the events from a few months ago. Hades reaches over and clasps my wrist in a deceptively gentle grasp. He flips it over and runs his thumb over the tattoo there, a blue flame. It marks me as his.
Forever.
My body goes tight, readying in fight or flight, my breath stalled in my lungs as I wait to see what he’ll do. Hades. My Sir. My owner in every sense of the word. I might dominate others in his club, might have what appears to be free rein over everyone there as I choose, but he is the only one who holds my leash. With Hades, there is no give and take.
He dominates. I submit. The end.
It used to be enough. We were in this together, true partners, true equals. These days, it feels like we’re going through the motions with each other. Coming to this quaint little restaurant with its faux romantic lighting and expensive wine list might be out of our ordinary, but this game just proves that Hades isn’t really trying to bridge the gap. He simply wants a new setting for a new scene.
Exhaustion rolls over me in a wave. I am so incredibly tired of playing. I should part my lips and tell him exactly where I stand, tell him I’m not happy and haven’t been for a long time, beg him to see how wrong things are between us.
I don’t. Even with this man, I’ve learned my lesson too well. The trust we built so painstakingly between us is weathered and beaten. I can’t be sure that he’ll meet me halfway, and because I can’t be sure, I am incapable of taking that first step to reach out.
Instead, I resign myself to another night of pleasure that will hold the pain at bay, at least for a little while. “Heavy-handed, don’t you think?” I keep my tone dry as I pull against his grasp. “After ten years, do you really think it will have magically disappeared if you don’t check it daily?”
“It’s a reminder, Meg. For both of us.” He brings my wrist to his lips and presses a devastatingly sweet kiss there. The contacts shoots straight to my core. When he starts gently, he ends the cruelest, and even as I resist him, I crave what only he can give me. Barbs. Thorns. The kind of heat that scars. His words echo in my head. Let’s play a game.
I shiver, something going soft inside me despite my best efforts to hold steady. “What kind of game?”
“Your favorite kind.” He traces my knuckles with his thumb. “I’m going to pick a person in this restaurant… and you’re going to fuck them.”
I twist and look out at the room. We’ve never been here before, but it’s packed on a Friday night. The main room is small enough to create an intimate feel. With the low lighting and soft music filtering through hidden speakers, it’s the kind of place that invites a couple to lean in, to speak softly in each other’s ears, to buy into the romance that exists simply by being here. And it is almost exclusively couples in here in pairs or on double dates. The food was an eclectic mix and though I was too on edge to eat my fill, the smells from neighboring tables have my mouth watering. I’ll come back here again someday alone, when I can enjoy the meal without anticipation putting off my appetite.
I study the tables I can view from my spot, but I don’t see anyone I recognize. That’s a warning in and of itself. Hades might break my heart over and over again in a thousand different ways, but he would never put me in a position where I could truly be harmed. He may be careless with my heart, but he would never make the same mistake with my body.
Sending me to fuck some stranger? There are so many variables. There’s no way he can control it. No way he can guarantee that I’ll be safe. He’s bluffing. He has to be.
I relax back into the seat and turn back to face him. He is so handsome, his face the subject of so many more good memories than bad, I can almost pretend that nothing has changed. That we’re still fresh in this relationship and nothing has had a chance to sour. I squeeze his thigh with my free hand, letting my fingers drift higher. “You want me to fuck someone here.”
“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”
“Unless it suits you.”
His small smile has me shifting closer. He picks my hand off his thigh. “Unless it suits me.” Hades repositions me so that I’m leaning against him, his lips brushing my ear with each word. “Do you see the waiter?”