Chapter 43 Hannah
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
HANNAH
For a long time, fear was a living, breathing thing inside me.
It ate at my confidence, my hopes and dreams, leaving behind the shell of myself.
I was everything I was expected to be. The perfect lady. Polite to a fault. Obedient.
Of course that last one was arguably the most important, and the day Rowan Cane came into my life, he gave me permission to reclaim the parts of myself I had lost.
He lived unapologetically, and I aspired to have that kind of freedom. I strived for it.
And little by little, that fear that used to live inside me began to fade.
So why did tonight spook me so much?
Why am I clinging to Rowan like he’s the lifeline stopping me from drowning?
Perhaps it’s because I’ve allowed myself to fall for not only him, but Asher as well, and it could all be taken from me in the blink of an eye.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve deluded myself all these years to think my responsibility to my family ended the day I started making my own way in the world.
When I chose scholarships and struggled through college over the trust fund that was dangled in front of me.
When I disgraced the Malone name by quitting the job I was only hired for because of my connections.
I’ve spent the last five years forging my own path, and tonight reminded me how quickly it could all be taken away.
I bury my face into Rowan’s chest, reveling in his steady warmth.
I used to long for this kind of connection, long to be loved, and now I know what it feels like, I won’t survive losing it.
I won’t survive losing them.
“Tell me how to help you, baby. Tell me what you need.” The plea in his words pauses my racing thoughts, because it’s not like Rowan to be unsure.
Ever since the first day we met, he had an untouchable air around him, like nothing on this earth could shake him.
But I do. I shake him. His feelings toward me, his need to protect me—it’s his weakness.
His kryptonite. And that’s as thrilling as it is terrifying.
There’s only one thing that will pull me from my thoughts, but no matter how hard I try to ask for it, I can’t find the words.
The Hannah of the past wouldn’t have been able to ask for what she needed. She’d have been too scared of judgment and would suffer in silence to avoid it.
But I don’t want to be her anymore.
I want to be the woman Rowan and Asher see when they look at me.
I pull in a long breath and release it slowly. “I need you.”
The words are barely a whisper, but the sharp intake of breath is all the confirmation I need that he hears them.
“You have me, Hannah. Always.”
I tip my head back, staring up into his icy gaze. He’s so fucking handsome that sometimes I can’t believe he’s real. The flicks of gray at his temples have only made him look more distinguished since the first time I met him.
I’ll never forget walking into that room and seeing him with his arm around my mother, a mask of indifference in place, but his eyes proved how little he wanted to be there. Then they met mine, and there was a spark.
At the time, I thought I’d imagined it. I thought I dreamed it because, honestly, if you’re not thirsting after a forbidden hot older man when you’re eighteen, you’re a better woman than me.
“I think what she means is she needs you to quieten the anxiety. She needs you to make her mind quiet.” Asher’s voice comes from behind me, the feeling of rightness settling over me, knowing we’re all safe.
Tonight scared me more than I can describe, but knowing Asher is home allows some of the worry to ease.
“Is that right, Little One? Do you need us to take it all away?” Rowan’s rough voice against the shell of my ear sends a shiver of need to my core.
The night we spent together at the club has been playing on a loop in my mind the last few days.
After the initial shock wore off that I’d fucked my stepfather, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I loved being between them. The way they worked together to give me all the things I never knew I needed.
My core throbs with anticipation, the promise of what’s to come.
“Yes,” I breathe.
Rowan pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting my head until I have no choice but to stare into his eyes. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
A soft moan tumbles from my throat. I’ve always had a praise kink, but there’s something about Rowan saying those words that almost makes me spontaneously orgasm every single time.
He smirks down at me as Asher comes to stand beside the chair, putting them both in my line of sight.
“One day soon, we’ll take you back to the Scarlet Lounge and fuck you where everyone can watch.
I’ve heard you look so pretty on stage, but I bet you’ll look fucking sinful being fucked by us both, your perfect ass red from the paddle. ”
“Fuck,” I breathe, because the picture he’s painting is straight from my own personal spank bank.
Asher crouches beside us, his own fingers replacing Rowan’s and holding me in place. “You sure you’re up for this, Little Doe?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper.
“Do you need pain?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “I’m going to go grab some things from my room. How about you give Rowan a little show taking off that pretty dress?”
I swallow, giving him a slight nod.
He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead before pushing himself to his feet and disappearing down the hallway.
Submitting to Asher has always come so easily. From the first time he led me into a private room, it’s been as natural as breathing, and that was what worried me when he floated the idea of sharing me.
What if it didn’t come as easily? What if I couldn’t please them both?
Those same thoughts float at the back of my mind now, but they’re not as loud. Because how could they be when they look at me like I hung the moon just for them?
Rowan helps me to my feet, holding onto my hips until he’s certain I’m steady.
His hands drop slowly, dragging down the outside of my thighs and sending a fresh rush of need to my core.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having his hands on me.
Taking a step back, I reach for the hem of my dress and tease my fingers along the soft fabric. It’s one of the new ones from the fully stocked closet Rowan and Asher collected before I moved in, and yet another thing I struggled to wrap my head around.
The idea of the rugged older man I’ve crushed on since I was eighteen, and the ex-MMA fighter shopping for me, is laughable at best and pure insanity at worst. But it’s the fact that every single item is something I would have picked for myself that has constant butterflies erupting in my belly.
Because unlike everyone else in my life, they don’t want to change me. They already think I’m perfect just the way I am.
Rowan leans back in the armchair, his body free of tension but his eyes full of lust.
It’s heady having a man like him look at me like this. Someone who exudes power with every breath, looking at me like I’m the sexiest woman in the world, only makes the ache in my center throb.
“You gonna take that pretty dress off, sweetheart?”
A shiver vibrates through my body at the roughness in his voice. “Yes, Sir.”