Page 45 of Her Nightshade

I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve been disgusted. But instead, I grabbed his shirt, pulling him down to me as my lips crashed against his. The kiss was messy, desperate, charged with anger.

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him as the tension between us ignited. The fear, the questions, the doubt—they all melted away as his touch consumed me.

I pushed him away quickly, knowing what I wanted to do to him. I needed to take control again. I watched the way his chest heaved with surprise, his green eyes darkening with need.

“Sit.” I pointed to the chair behind him and he moved instantly, lowering himself onto it. He spread his legs wide, his arms resting on the sides, but his fingers twitched slightly, as if restraining himself from reaching for me.

I stepped closer. “I want you to behave,” I commanded. “No touching. No speaking unless I ask you a question. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Yes,mi diosa,” he breathed, his voice trembling slightly. I could see the way his body responded to the command, his cock hardening, his breath hitching as he submitted to me without hesitation.

“Good boy,” I said with a proud smile.

I could see his effort, the way he was trying to hold back. I pulled his pants down slowly, revealing his hard, aching cock, then lifted my dress. I aligned my body with his and lowered myself onto him, moaning quietly as his cock filled me. I moved deliberately, every shift of my body designed to remind him of the control he didn’t have. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths, and I could see every fiber of him desperate to touch me but knowing he wouldn’t dare.

“Don’t ever forget this,” I said as I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear. “I’m the one in control. I decide what happens, when it happens, and how it happens. Not you.”

“Yes,mi diosa,” he rasped, his voice shaking with restrained need as I slowly rolled my hips over him.

I tilted his chin up with one finger, forcing his gaze to meet mine. His green eyes were dark with hunger, his pupils blown wide, but there was something else there—something more dangerous. Devotion. Worship. An unwavering, almost frightening intensity.

“You belong to me,” I whispered, running my thumb over his lower lip, my other hand splayed against his chest. “Say it.”

“I belong to you,” he said desperately.

“Good boy,” I murmured, pulling his lip down slightly before letting go.

His breathing continued to pick up speed, his lips parting as if to speak but he caught himself, obeying my rule of silence. A flicker of pride curled in my chest at his restraint but it was quickly overtaken by something else. Even as I said the words, even as I reveled in the power of making him submit, I knew the truth.

I wasn’t really in control.

Charlie Ashford was an unshakable force, a man who would do anything—anything—for me. He had proven that with Sarah, with the terrifying way he justified what had happened to her. And though he was under my hands, under my commands, I knew the undeniable pull he had over me. It was like standing at the edge of a storm, knowing the winds could sweep me away at any moment but being too captivated to step back.

But I couldn’t let him know that.

I dragged my nails down his chest, the red lines standing out starkly against his skin. His body tensed under my touch, a low groan slipping from his lips despite his best efforts to hold it back.

“You’re trying so hard, aren’t you?” I teased, my voice dripping with mockery as I continued to roll my hips slowly. “Do you want to touch me, Charlie?”

“Yes,” he gasped, his head falling back as his body trembled beneath me. “So much.”

“Too bad,” I said, leaning back slightly, my hands trailing down his arms to where his fingers gripped the chair. “Because tonight, you don’t get to. You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll be grateful for it.”

His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine. “Iamgrateful. I’ll take anything you give me,mi diosa.”

“Good boy,” I praised, my tone softening. I leaned forward, my hands bracing against his chest as I moved, watching the way his self-control unraveled with every shift of my body.

But even as he submitted, even as he obeyed every command without question, I could feel the storm beneath the surface—the unrelenting power that he held back for my sake. It thrilled me. Terrified me. Consumed me.

“You need to remember this,” I started, trying to contain how much I reveled in this. “No matter how much you want to take control, no matter how much you think you can, you’ll never be the one in charge. I am. Always.”

“Yes,mi diosa.”His voice was hoarse, his hands gripping the chair so tightly I thought the wood might break.

But as I looked into his eyes, the unshakable devotion there, I felt a sliver of doubt. Did he believe me? Or was he simply letting me think I had control, knowing full well that his power over me ran deeper than I was willing to admit?

The thought made my movements falter slightly, but I recovered quickly, leaning down to kiss him, hard and fervently, swallowing the soft groan that escaped his lips. His obedience only fed my need to push him further, to test the limits of his submission and remind myself that, for now, I held the reins.

“You don’t come until I say so,” I commanded against his lips. “Do you understand?”

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