Aspen

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

ASPEN

“W hat the fuck is subspace?” I muttered to my empty apartment.

I leaned in, as if getting closer to the words on my computer screen would cause them to make more sense.

The pressure between my furrowed brows increased, and I struggled to relax.

I always wondered what it would take to create the slightest wrinkle in your austere face.

If only he could see me now with a whole canyon of a groove.

He claimed his nearness caused the wrinkle, but really it had been my confusion about my reaction to his nearness.

I…hadn’t hated it.

His body acted like a magnet to my skin, raising goosebumps as if every inch of me strived to be closer to him.

Every moment left me questioning my sanity—left me wondering how the hell I got from one point to the next. In reality, I knew what started it. The stress of the day wore me down and my mind refused to quiet. Despite the never-ending ramble of thoughts running through my head, one kept returning to the front. The reminder of when everything went quiet. The reminder of the calm I achieved with Lucian.

Despite being able to rationalize it, standing outside his door still seemed surreal. As if my body acted on a base impulse, disconnecting from my mind because it knew going to Lucian Daire and asking for anything was insane. Let alone asking him to spank me.

And the insanity continued from there.

I a ctually asked him. I actually said the words instead of shoving his demand to hear the request back in his face.

He said yes.

I willingly bent over his desk.

He lifted my skirt and bared my ass.

He touched me.

I liked it.

He called me princess and told me I was a good girl.

I melted under his praise.

He struck me again and again.

I craved each hit.

But the most insane moment of the night? I orgasmed .

I hadn’t allowed myself to orgasm since I was a teenager. Even when I tried to, a part of me always remained aware of my body, refusing to fully untether my control. A part of me always remembered that it wasn’t safe to completely let go.

Except, this time, every ounce of my body and mind slipped into the quiet abyss. Each stinging slap lured me further and further into a place I didn’t have to think—didn’t have to worry about what was safe and what wasn’t. I became nothing beyond what he wanted me to be.

I’d slipped into a state of such heightened euphoria beyond my control that I doubted if I’d ever come back to reality. But I had. The foggy and muffled world slowly cleared as the orgasm faded. And the first thing I heard was his deep voice, praising me for how well I came. I basked in his approval, still clinging to the mind-numbing void.

Until it faded and my body collided with my consciousness. The crash back to reality yanked my muscles tight, urging me upright. Urging me to flee.

I cringed when I remembered the lame “thank you” I muttered. Again.

The further I got from the office, the tension from earlier in the day flooded back, bringing with it a wave of emotions I didn’t know where to start with. Once I got home, I blasted music and took a bath in an attempt to blot out my racing thoughts.

I sank under the water, weighed down by shock and embarrassment over my orgasm. God, I’d gone there to ask him to spank me, to help me find that calm control, and somehow lost any form of control, turning it sexual. What was wrong with me?

The worst part was Lucian. I’d stood tall and righteous when we first met, warning him about sexual harassment and there I was beating down his door for a spanking and then coming from it.

After a fitful night of sleep filled with dreams of Lucian pulling my panties aside and fucking me, I couldn’t bring myself to face him. So, I took the morning to prepare for a lunch meeting and decided to return home after.

That was two hours ago, and I hadn’t moved from my spot on the couch with my computer, researching everything I could.

I read the words on the screen, uncomfortable with their description.

Submissive.

Subspace.

Subdrop.

“I am not submissive,” I affirmed. Because of course I wasn’t. I worked my ass off every day to become the boss of Quinn Music Group. I dominated that office and everything in it. I remained in control; in projects, meetings, dates, partners, friends, myself. I didn’t submit to anything in my life.

Despite the affirmation, the website explained how people who were always in charge found comfort in letting go with someone else. It talked about how spanking could release endorphins, allowing people to release their tension and relax. That explained the euphoric floating sensation, but it didn’t ease the chaotic confusion tightening around my chest.

It didn’t explain the orgasm.

Maybe it had to do with Lucian. Maybe he was the reason I came.

No.

Hell. No.

This had everything to do with me and nothing to do with him.

In fact, even if I couldn’t explain why I wanted to be spanked, I had to believe I could recreate the experience with anyone—if I had someone to recreate it with.

Doubt hummed in my mind, creating a driving need to prove it.

I looked around my apartment, scrambling for a solution. My gaze landed on my phone and a lightbulb went off. I tossed my laptop aside and grabbed the device, sending a message before I could second guess my plan.

Me: You have five minutes.

I held my breath.

Ash: I’ll be there in fifteen.

His response didn’t induce the relieved exhale I expected. Instead, I stared at the screen for so long, questioning my sanity, that the words started to blur.

Breathe, Aspen.

I released a rush of air and proceeded to pace around my apartment. I laid the blanket across the back of the couch and practiced what to say, ignoring the pinch in my gut that whispered this was all wrong.

It wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t.

Ash was the only other person I let go with—or tried to. He was someone I knew I could find a connection and release with. Not an orgasm kind of release, but that was because I held back. But I still experienced moments when my mind turned off with Ash. If I gave him more control, then I would find the same pleasure as I had with Lucian.

If nothing else, I’d use this to remind myself that I was able to release the tension with anyone I chose. I’d use it to prove that I controlled my body and its reactions. Not Lucian Daire.

Knock, knock.

My heart lurched into my throat.

I took a deep breath and pushed my shoulders back, committing to my plan, and opened the door.

“Aspen.”

I studied his square jaw and full lips like always. Except this time, I found his smooth, clean-shaven cheeks lacking, craving scruff and lines of experience. When I looked into his dark eyes, they didn’t appear as deep and promising as I originally thought.

Lucian’s were darker.

The thought rang as the perfect reminder for why I messaged Ash in the first place.

I didn’t need Lucian to orgasm.

“Come on in.”

I stepped back and closed the door behind him, falling into our usual routine.

Lock the door.

Move to the couch.

Bend over.

Get my phone out.

Set the timer.

The clink of his belt sounded right on time, and my body tensed. “Wait.”

I needed different than our usual routine. I needed to recreate the scenario from last night. The problem was, Ash didn’t know, which meant I needed to ask. It meant I had to take control of the situation, a counteractive step.

But, just for a minute. I’d get us started and then he’d take over. It would work.

“You good?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Y—you know how you always wanted to…try something new?”

“Of course. Especially with you,” he murmured, resting his hand on my hip.

My thighs clenched, fighting the urge to shift away from the contact.

“What were you thinking?”

“Co—Could you maybe…” The words struggled past the nerves threatening to choke me. Determined to make this work, I swallowed hard and blurted, “Could you spank me?”

If it hadn’t been for his hand clenching against my hip, I would have guessed he hadn’t understood.

Except he did—making the silence unbearable. Making me regret it. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have asked,” I rambled, trying to backtrack. I tried to stand, but his grip held me still. “Seriously, I sh?—”

“No, no,” he said, but the pause was burned into my memory. “Of cour?—”

“It’s okay. I know it was a weird thing t?—”

“It’s not weird. I’m tota?—”

“Just forget I as?—”

“I don’t want to forg?—”

“I shouldn’t ha?—”

Smack.

The impact shocked the air from my lungs, taking the words with it.

“Like that?” he asked softly.

I focused on the sting, waiting for it to warm its way up my spine and release my muscles. But the sensation expanded uncontrolled, and I struggled to focus. My brows pulled low while I tried to pinpoint why it didn’t feel the same.

Because he’s not Lucian.

No. Not that.

“Maybe…maybe try to use less of your hand,” I suggested.

Another smack. This one too soft and more like a tap.

“Umm…try to use more of your palm.”

Smack.

Closer, but still not right.

An ache pierced between my eyes and stretched around, spreading down my neck.

“What if you tried to do a few in a row and spread them out?”

He did as I instructed, but spread them too far apart. They spanned from the bottom curve of my right cheek to the top, and then around to almost my left thigh.

The muscles between my shoulder blades ached from the increasing tension, screwing tighter and tighter. I searched for what to ask for and hated every idea because I didn’t want to think at all. When Lucian had spanked me, I didn’t say a word—I just let go.

Fuck. No. No, no, no.

This has nothing to do with Lucian .

Maybe spanking just wasn’t Ash’s thing, I justified.

“Let’s try something else,” I blurted, shoving upright.

He released his grip, and I faced him, surprised to find wide-eyed innocence shining back. Ash Killian exuded an aged confidence, but right then, he looked like a boy in his mid-twenties, leaving me to be the woman in charge.

Again.

No.

No, no, no .

I needed to shut it off.

Like a woman drowning, I frantically reached for anything. “You know what? Let’s see what you are capable of. You said you had skills, so let’s see them,” I suggested, my voice edging toward panic.

Maybe if I put him in his comfort zone, he’d find the control I needed him to have.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. C’mon. Or are you not as good as you promised?” I goaded.

The curious innocence faded, replaced by the dark smirk everyone swooned for. He stepped closer, resting his hand on the curve of my waist—the sensation no less discomforting. The smooth skin of his jaw distracted me. The lush curve to his lips was too full.

Focus, Aspen.

I dropped my gaze to his neck, hoping the innocuous body part wouldn’t hold my attention too tightly. But even as his hand coasted up my ribs, I couldn’t stop wishing for a formal black collar against rugged flesh.

Just as his hand reached the edge of my breast, he leaned in to kiss me.

“No,” I shouted, jerking back.

He immediately stopped, his hands lifting as high as his brows. His shocked face embodied the chaos tugging away at my insides. His obvious confusion mixed with my own. I needed…I needed… less.

“You know what, let’s stick with our usual,” I suggested, turning and bending over the couch.

“You sure?” he asked. “We can just hang out if you want.”

“I’m sure, and we can hang out after.” I needed to be sure. Maybe I couldn’t recreate the same situation from last night, but I could still prove that I relaxed with Ash. I could still prove that Lucian wasn’t the key to letting go. Maybe I’d set the timer for six minutes this time—or not at all. Maybe that was it.

The whirr of his zipper sounded. The condom wrapper crinkled. His hands grazed my thighs, tugging my skirt up. His fingers hooked around my panties to pull them down. His hands gripped my hips. The head of his cock brushed against my opening.

My thighs clenched.

Let go, let go, let go.

My shoulders cinched tight around my neck.

This isn’t right.

My chest squeezed, preventing any air from reaching my lungs.

Something isn’t right.

He started to push in, and I jerked away. “Wait. No. I can’t.” I whirled around, tugging my clothes back in place. One glance at his concerned gaze, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked softly, refastening his pants.

“Yeah.” Except I shook my head, and my voice spiked with a manic edge.

“Aspen.”

“Seriously. I’m totally okay,” I pushed, opening my eyes, and adding a too-wide smile.

“Aspen…” He sighed and his shoulders dropped, offering a much more normal and understanding smile than my insane one.

“Listen, okay. It’s just…” I stumbled, rubbing my hand over my face, trying to find the words. “It’s not you. It’s me. I swear.”

He leaned back with a soft laugh. “That’s shocking, since most women claim it’s my fault.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said with a soft laugh of my own.

“Okay, let’s just…take a step back,” he suggested, buckling his belt.

I sighed. “Yeah, I think that’s good.” I took a deep breath, trying to process the emotions rolling through me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He leaned against the back of the couch beside me with crossed arms and legs.

“Ugh. Not really.”

He stood in silence, knowing something happened and waiting me out because we always ended up talking.

“I don’t even know what to say.” Because I couldn’t figure out how I got there. Once I opened the door, I lost all sense of reason and rushed through one action into another until it all spun into a blurry mess.

“Usually, you call me when you need to relax from something. So, what has you so stressed?”

I did. I called him when panic loomed ahead, and I didn’t want to be alone. But I hadn’t been on the edge of anxiety this time. Not really. I’d been confident and prepared to prove a point.

At least, I had when we started.

Now , after each second ticked by, more and more weight bore down on my chest until I struggled to breathe. Each instruction I gave added to the pressure banding around my lungs.

Not only had I needed to take control of a situation I used to let off steam, but I also ended more stressed than when we started. Even when I lost the point of calling him over in the first place and shifted to our familiar routine, my anxiety grew so large I couldn’t move past it. I couldn’t find the usual connection and comfort he gave me.

What if now, when I reached out to Ash, I couldn’t achieve what I had before? What if I lost the five-minute reprieve I’d clung to?

Then what was I supposed to do?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

I rubbed my chest, trying to soothe the piercing ache.

What was I supposed to do?

The question played on repeat, spiraling without an end in sight.

“Aspen?”

Faster and faster.

What was I supposed to do? Where would I let go? Would it build and build until it consumed me? What was I supposed to do? WhatwasIsupposedtodo?

Then it stopped—the spinning and the questions and everything around me stopped with one truth standing out.

This was all Lucian’s fault.

Lucian mother-fucking Daire broke me.

He sent me into some sub-space, gave me an orgasm, made me lose complete control, and now I was broken.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.

“Ummm, what?”

I jerked my attention to Ash, finding increasing concern marring his face.

“Sorry, Ash. I just—I...”

My mouth opened and closed, searching for the words while my mind scrambled for a solution. Neither came to me, but one idea solidified. I needed to hold Lucian accountable for breaking me, and I needed him to fix it right now.

Which meant I needed Ash to leave.

“I’m so sorry, but you have to go because I have to go. I know today was weird, but I just had this weird experience with Lucian,” I rambled, words tumbling free without thought as I searched for my phone. “And I needed to prove that it had nothing to do with him, so I called you over but then it got weird and now I feel out of control when usually I feel more in control with you and it’s all a fucking mess and it’s all his fault.”

With wide eyes and a slack-jaw, he let me usher him to the door. His head cocked to the side, and he slowed, turning back to ask, “Are you sure it’s his fau?—”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” I pressed, unwilling to be derailed. “Thank you again for coming over. Sorry to kick you out. Talk soon. Bye.”

I turned back to scan my apartment for my phone before remembering I left it on the couch. I found it with the timer still open and ready for five minutes.

What a waste.

I swiped out of the app and pulled up my messages.

Me: Is Mr. Daire at the office today?

Shiloh: I think so. I saw him after lunch. I’m about to head out for the evening, but I can check to make sure he’s still here.

Me: No. That’s okay. Thanks, girl.

No. I didn’t want him to have time to prepare for me. I wanted to find him when he least expected it and make him undo whatever the hell he did.

Doubt whispered in the back of my mind. Are you really going to yell at him for giving you an orgasm?

I stumbled on the way to the door, hesitating for barely a moment before resetting back on my path.

It wasn’t about the orgasm. It was about the way he pushed me past my limits and stole my ability to find release and remain in control.

So, hell yes, I was going to yell at him.

I’d lived my life without orgasms, and I could continue to do so, but there was no way I’d live my life without control.