Chapter 20
ASPEN
With one last shake of my arms, I took a deep breath, pulled my shoulders back, and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” his deep voice resonated through the door, already tempting me.
I walked in with my head held high, my face forced into a calm I was beyond feeling.
In reality, my heart tripped over itself, my lungs heaved, and everything inside me ached. Every passing second of the meeting demanded absolute control—to keep my mouth from pulling into a frown, to keep myself from crumbling at the sight of him.
God, I missed him so much.
More than I thought I could.
Definitely more than I should.
This man had taken the heart I’d offered on a silver platter—the one he’d convinced me he’d wanted with every gentle touch and soothing word—and stomped all over it.
And still, I craved him.
Still, I loved him.
Getting through the meeting had been a Herculean effort, one that sent me retreating to my office to curl up on my couch and cry. I gave myself ten minutes of tears before forcing myself back together. Even then, my body trudged through the rest of the day, heavy and hollow.
Then his email arrived.
The surge of excitement that followed left me ashamed.
I was a strong woman. I did not pine after a man who made it painfully clear he didn’t want me. I did not get excited over the chance of scraps.
So, I spent the half-hour before this reminding myself of all the reasons I’d told him we were done. Reinforcing my spine with logic and resolve. Strength that held—right up until I stood in front of him.
Until I stared into his dark eyes that caught copper in the right light.
At his sharp jaw and stubbled cheeks that spread wide when he smiled.
At his mouth—the same lips that once kissed me with reverence and drove me to the edge of pleasurable insanity.
At his large hands that had soothed my pain and made me feel safe.
Every detail wore me down until I felt like an imposter, standing there wanting to fall at his feet and tell him I was willing to accept whatever pieces of himself he could spare.
But I wouldn’t—I couldn’t.
I was Aspen Quinn.
I was better than that.
“Your email said you had an interview you needed to discuss today.”
He stood and rounded his desk. “Yes. I wanted to let you know that I was thinking of hiring Sadie Albright.”
I racked my brain, searching for a face to put with the name, coming to a screeching halt when I found it. “What?” I practically shouted.
My eyes bulged as I stared at him incredulously, too alarmed by his suggestion to pause and take note of the deviant glimmer and predatory smirk.
“She’s horrible,” I argued, remembering the nightmarish interview.
“She actually claimed gothic-country-jazz was the next big thing. Wanted to throw more than half our profits at it—all because her cousin’s uncle was starting a band!
” My voice climbed a notch with every word, growing unhinged with disbelief.
I’d stormed closer to his desk—to him, forgetting space was crucial if I wanted to hold my resolve.
He shrugged. “Maybe. But I have final approval—your father agreed when we signed the contracts. He allowed you to join the interviews because he was trying to appease his hurt little princess.”
A burning heat stole through me, and my hands trembled with restraint. “Why? Why would you choose her?”
He circled me like a predator corralling its prey. “Because I can,” he answered low, his words brushing against my ear from behind.
Anger coiled back and snapped inside me. I whipped around to face him. “God, you don’t even care, do you?”
“Why should I?”
“Are you kidding me?”
A hollow cavity gaped inside my chest, heavy under the weight of heartbreak. Had everything been a game to him? Had I imagined it all? Had he truly never really cared? Did he feel so little for me that he couldn’t conjure a single reason to care about my legacy?
“Why should I care, Aspen? Hmm?” His black eyes glittered down at me. His imposing frame blacked out the lights, swallowing me into his shadow as my back hit the edge of the desk. “You left and didn’t contact me at all. The last thing you said was that we were done. So, tell me…why should I care?”
The gaping hole sucked in every feeling like a black hole, pulling in the simmering rage brewing at its fringes.
It bled into the pain, spreading like a drop of ink until it took everything over.
Anger hardened my spine—its heat evaporating the weakness I’d walked in with.
My armor slid in place, and I met his cold gaze with one of my own, casting everything else aside.
“You know what?” I asked softly. “Fuck. You.” I whispered the words close enough for him to feel them against his lips.
He didn’t back up despite my nearness. Only cocked an arrogant brow, as if he was intrigued or hoping I meant it as an offer.
I barked a humorless laugh. “I. don’t. care. Go ahead…run this company into the ground. Do whatever the fuck you want—just like you always do. Because you know what?” I asked, my lips curving into a malicious smirk. “I’ll just start my own company.”
I basked in the arrogance seeping from his gaze, as if realizing and trying to reassess how I became the predator and he the prey.
I leaned in closer, speaking each word with precise, cold delivery. “I. Don’t. Need. You.”
With each word, his eyes darkened until nothing remained but angry black onyx swallowing his irises. I barely had more than a second to plan my next move before he nullified every plan with his hand gripping either side of my jaw, holding me still, squeezing to the edge of pain.
I gasped and wanted to cry out, make him believe he was hurting me—but we both knew the way his fingers dug into my cheeks, the way they controlled me, only set my desire ablaze.
“You don’t need this?” he snarled before whipping me around, pinning my hips under his, and forcing me to bend over the desk.
My hands landed on the polished wood with a smack that matched the same sound of his palm connecting with my ass.
I sucked in a sharp gasp, the sound shuddering into a moan before I could stop it.
Two more quick strikes on either side, setting my skin on fire before melting into a delicious warmth, spreading between my thighs.
“You don’t need the relief that only I can give you?” he taunted.
I dropped my head, unable to answer, already falling into a hazy pleasure, and pushed back for more. A voice whispered that I should be ashamed, but after weeks away, my body ached for his, and the heady thrum of want beat louder than the wispy warning.
One hand fisted my skirt, tugging it higher, and I wriggled my hips to help him as the clink and rustle of his belt and pants releasing built my anticipation to a fever pitch.
Without teasing, not wasting time with build-up, he pressed the head of his cock at my entrance and shoved to the hilt, hitting deep.
My cry mixed with his groan, creating a song I knew would always be my favorite, even if I never heard it again.
He thrust, again and again, relentlessly, savagely, as if he were trying to imprint himself on my soul and mark me as his—ruining me for anyone else. His hand slid around my neck, pulling my back to his chest, squeezing gently as his mouth found mine.
Our tongues collided, messy and desperate. Eager and needy.
Another cry tore my lips from his when his fingers roughly pinched my nipple, twisting and pulling until I could barely stand it—the pain and pleasure overwhelming me.
“You don’t need the loss of control, the pain, the fucking pleasure that only I can give you?” he grunted the question with each driving slam inside me.
“Lucian,” I pleaded.
For more? For mercy? For him to want me like I wanted him? All of it? None of it?
In that moment, I had no idea.
My body hummed, the euphoria like electric fire burning a path to my core on its way to detonate. His thrusts lost their rhythm as his hand finally released my nipple before sinking between my legs to rub my clit with tight, purposeful strokes.
“Come for me, princess.” The breath from his command stroked along the shell of my ear, sinking inside me and taking control until I had no choice but to do as he ordered.
His hand released the pressure around my neck and sucked in a deep breath, the oxygen colliding with the flames of pleasure, detonating my orgasm until it consumed me.
Deep groans vibrated against my back as he came along with me, emptying himself inside me, until we both finished, gasping for air.
My pussy spasmed with aftershocks around his cock, still deep in my core, as if he wasn’t ready to leave.
I dropped my chin to my chest, rasping breaths echoing around me.
His arms cradled my body, the only thing keeping me upright as my limbs turned to jelly.
I clung to the press of his strength against me, savoring it—memorizing every second, drawing it close to steady the walls collapsing around my bruised heart.
And then he broke the silence.
Pierced it.
Pierced the fragile moment we’d carved out for ourselves.
“Will your new company give you the orgasms you need?”
My features crumpled, fire burning up the back of my throat into my eyes, but I squeezed them shut. I would not let him see me cry.
I wrapped my arms around his, absorbing every sensation of him holding me, committing it to memory—because I knew this was it.
Drawing in a steady breath, I braced myself and brought the axe down, severing the connection between us. “No,” I said quietly. “But it also won’t make it so hard to breathe that it hurts.”
I pried myself from his arms and straightened my clothes as quickly as I could.
“Aspen, I never followed through with the scene,” he confessed as I headed for the door, his tone low—desperate to be heard and tinged with hope that it might still matter.
But it didn’t.
“It’s too late. And it’s not enough,” I said, forcing steel into my voice I didn’t feel and refusing to look back. I couldn’t. If I did, I knew it wouldn’t matter if I thought it was enough or not—I wouldn’t make it out.
His footsteps followed—then stopped, cut short by the sharp ring of his phone.
“Shit,” he muttered just as I reached the door. “Grace…”
I didn’t wait to hear the rest. Our arrangement was over. Lucian wasn’t my problem anymore, and whatever hope I’d been clinging to was gone.
I should have felt relief.
Instead, all I felt was the clawing urge to turn around and go back.
I didn’t.