Page 100 of Push My Buttons
She releases my hair and her hands raise between us again. "You don't get to come,"she signs, her movements deliberate. "And you don't get to clean your face."
I nod, understanding immediately. She wants me to wear the evidence of her pleasure, to carry her scent with me. It's a claiming, a marking, and the thought makes me even harder.
"I am yours," I tell her, my voice raw with emotion. "Completely yours."
She cups my face, her thumb tracing my lower lip in a gesture that's somehow both tender and possessive. I press a kiss to her palm, overcome with feelings I can barely contain.
"You are my queen," I whisper, the words spilling out unbidden. "I will worship at your feet for the rest of my life, not just until you forgive me. I swear it."
Something softens in her expression—not weakness, but a different kind of strength. She helps me to my feet, her hand gentle on my arm. When I'm standing, she leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, tasting herself on my mouth.
"I believe you,"she signs when she pulls back.
She dresses quickly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. I stand there, still painfully hard, my face still wetfrom her, watching her transform back into the public version of herself. But now I know what lies beneath—the power, the control, the fierce determination.
When she's fully dressed, she signs: "Ready to go?"
I nod, adjusting myself as discreetly as possible. "Whatever you want."
As we exit the fitting room, the saleswoman gives us a knowing look that I can't quite bring myself to be embarrassed about. Let her think what she wants. Let the whole world see that I belong to Wren, that I'm hers to command.
Wren purchases the lingerie we never even looked at, a small smile playing at her lips as she hands over my credit card. I stand slightly behind her, aware of how I must look—disheveled, my face still glistening, my eyes probably glazed with desire.
When we step back onto the street, Wren turns to me, her expression serious again. "Thank you," she signs, "for giving me what I needed."
"Always," I promise, taking her hand. "Anything you need, anytime. I'm yours."
She nods, seemingly satisfied, and leads me toward the car. As we walk, I realize something has shifted between us—not just the power dynamic, but something deeper. A new understanding, a new equilibrium.
I don't know if she's forgiven me yet. I'm not sure I deserve forgiveness this quickly. But I do know that whatever happens next, whatever she needs from me—from us—I'll give it to her without hesitation.
Because she is my queen, and I am hers to command. And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way.
Chapter 37
Wren
Thecaféisbustlingwhen I arrive for my shift two days later. I've been avoiding this place since my collapse, but my bank account can't take another day off. Neither can my pride—I've already refused both Jace’s and Theo's offers to cover my rent with a lot of my savings having gone to the hospital visit.
"I can pay my own bills,"I'd signed firmly this morning when Theo tried again, sliding his credit card across the kitchen counter toward me.
"I know you can," he'd said, his eyes soft with concern. "But you don't have to."
I'd pushed the card back to him, shaking my head. "My life, my responsibility."
They're both trying so hard—Jace bringing me tea without being asked, Theo massaging my shoulders when I wince from headache pain. The memory of Theo on his knees in that fitting room, of Jace blindfolded and desperate on the couch, sends a rush of heat through me. Their submission is intoxicating, addictive. But I need this normal part of my life too. Need to prove to myself that I can stand on my own.
Maya spots me the moment I walk in, her face lighting up. "You're back!" she exclaims, abandoning the drink she's making to rush around the counter and hug me. "I wasn't sure you'd come in today."
I hug her back, breathing in the familiar scent of coffee and vanilla that always clings to her. When we separate, I sign, "Rent doesn't pay itself."
"You could have taken another day," she chides, leading me toward the back room. "Marcus was being an ass about your shifts, but I covered for you."
I follow her, tying my apron around my waist with practiced movements. My fingers move quickly as I sign, "Thank you. I owe you."
She waves it off. "Please. I'm just glad you're okay." Her eyes narrow slightly. "After what those two put you through? You are okay, right? Being with them still?"
I nod, unable to suppress the small smile that tugs at my lips. Maya's eyebrows shoot up immediately.
