Once Ash opened up to me, it was like he became an entirely new man. Oh sure, he was still reserved and could go through long bouts of silence—I think that’s just who he was at heart—but now he was more candid than he’d ever been before. He no longer avoided certain topics, afraid of what he’d have to reveal about himself, and he’d stopped shying away from discussing his time in the military. In fact, the past few nights he’d shared stories with me about the people he’d known and the places he’d seen. They weren’t always happy stories—more often than not they were heartbreaking—but they were his and for that I was grateful.

But the biggest surprise was when he picked up my guitar and begin strumming a tune I’d never heard before. He’d been plucking away at it for the past ten minutes or so.

“What’s that?” I asked, looking up from my notebook with a smile.

I was putting the final touches on some lyrics I’d written a couple of days before. I hadn’t intended to add any additional music to my album, but with my relationship with Ash growing by leaps and bounds, I wanted to document this time of my life as well. I had enough songs about my heartache, and I liked the idea of ending the album on a hopeful note. There were no guarantees that Ash and I would go the distance, but for the first time in a very long while, being with someone made me happy instead of miserable, and I wanted to honor that through my music.

After a few more notes, he set the guitar aside. “Just something I was messing around with.”

“I’d hardly call that messing around. It was beautiful.”

His cheeks turned pink, and he shrugged off my praise. If I hadn’t just seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t have believed Ash Devereaux was capable of embarrassment.

Walking to the window, he said, “I miss it, you know?”

I did know because being without my guitar would have felt as if I’d lost a limb. It was part of me, an extension of all that I was. Knowing that Ash had once harbored dreams of being a professional musician, I was surprised he’d gone this long without playing.

“I get it,” I said, walking over to him. Wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, I kissed his back and then breathed in his earthy, woodsy scent.

“Did you just smell me?” He chuckled.

“Guilty,” I answered, taking another deep, obvious whiff.

“Come here, weirdo,” he laughed, pulling me around in front of him.

Time stood still as we stared at one another in the fading coral and violet light of evening. Around us the room glowed and the air felt ripe with possibility.

“Will you play for me?”

Ash broke my gaze and stared out the window. “It’s been awhile.”

“You’re good, Ash. I want to hear something of yours.”

“I don’t know, Rae. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Bullshit,” I challenged, dragging his face back to mine. “You just told me you miss it. So stop missing it.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It’s exactly that easy,” I answered, laying my palm flat on his chest. “You pick up the guitar and you play the first thing that comes to mind.”

“That’s the problem,” he responded. “Everything I used to play is all wrapped up in her. The last songs I wrote were about how she made me feel. I don’t want to bring her into this any more than I already have.”

I dropped my head back and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Has it escaped your notice how I’ve spent every day since we’ve been here? I’m making a goddamn album about my ex-husband—the joy of first love and the agony of heartbreak when he ended it.”

Ash stepped away and ran his hand through his hair. It was getting long enough that soon he’d be able to pull it back all the way. I didn’t typically find man buns attractive, but with his chiseled cheek bones and rugged good looks, it would work. Hell, not only would it work, but he’d look sexy as fuck.

“That’s different,” he finally answered. “I knew what I was getting into when we came out here. I was prepared to hear all about Ford and what he did to you. You had no clue you were about to get involved with someone with as much baggage as I have.”

“And I’ve told you,” I said striding toward him, my finger pointed at his chest, “that your past is irrelevant to me.” I halted my approach. “Scratch that. It’s not irrelevant because it made you the man you are today. And if out of that past comes beautiful music, I want to hear it.” Standing in front of him now, I winked saucily. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

Ash rolled his eyes and laughed. Then, before I knew what was happening, he crouched down and tossed me over his shoulder. As he marched down the hallway toward his room, he chortled, “Oh, I’ll show you something alright.”

“On your knees, Rae.”

The timbre of his voice, dropped low, sent chills skittering down my spine in anticipation. It’d been days since he’d brought out his dominant, commanding side, and frankly I’d missed it. That’s not to say that our sex hadn’t been mind-blowing, but after he’d lashed me to his bed and fucked me six ways to Sunday, he’d gone easy on me. From his ruthless tone just now, it was clear my reprieve was over.

I dropped to my knees and boxed my arms behind my back just the way he liked. Ash circled me, admiring the view. He stopped in front of me, his bulge looming large in my line of sight.

Seeing where my eyes lingered, he cupped himself. “Don’t worry baby, you’ll get this, but first …” He dropped into a squat and traced the curve of my neck, down to my nipple. He tweaked it between his fingers and I yelped.

Ash brushed his thumb back and forth over the tip until the pain was replaced by a warming sort of pleasure. When goosebumps broke out along my skin, Ash smiled savagely at his handiwork. Dragging his eyes from my breast to my face, our gazes locked and held as he continued to stroke me. And then he blinked, long and slow, and when he opened his eyes, a cold, guarded mask had fallen over his features. “I need to be in control right now. I need it hard and rough. Will you let me do that?”

That in asking for control, Ash gave it to me was a turn on unlike anything I’d experienced before. As a card-carrying feminist, I’d once thought only spineless, subservient women willingly acquiesced to being commanded by a man. But now I could see there was strength in it, too. Submitting to Ash didn’t make me weak. I was strong and powerful because I said what we did—and what we didn’t do. It was my consent—my permission—that allowed anything to happen at all. Ash would say that he owned my pleasure, but the truth was, I owned his.

“Yes sir,” came my willing reply.

“Open your mouth,” he said, working his impressive cock through his fist as he stepped closer. He traced the shape of my lips with his crown, coating me with his salty pre-cum.

I dropped my jaw open and waited to taste the rest of him.

“Your safe word.”

“Pumpkin,” I answered without hesitation, my eyes raised in longing.

He nodded approvingly and said, “Not one more word out of your mouth, unless I tell you to speak. The only thing you’re permitted to say is that. Do you understand?”

Honestly? I didn’t. I wanted to please him, but I also wanted to understand why he needed my silence. This was something new between us, and I didn’t know if I liked it. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t understand. You used to like it when I told you how you made me feel, what I wanted you to do to me. Has something changed?”

Ash sighed, and dropped his chin to his chest. He sucked in a lungful of air, and then his eyes found mine again. “No, nothing like that,” he answered, shaking his head. “The truth is, I want to do things to you that will require complete concentration, and I can’t think about anything when you speak. The sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever heard is the way your voice cracks when you are begging me to fuck you.”

“Oh,” I breathed, both relieved and turned on by his answer. “I can be quiet then.”

“Are you sure? Because I can gag you.”

I shook my head emphatically. I was still learning what it meant to be submissive to Ash—figuring out what I liked and what I didn’t—but I was confident being gagged didn’t turn me on. “No, I’ll behave.” I smiled up at him then. He might like me down on my knees all willing and compliant, but I was still me, and that meant no matter how demanding he got, he’d never break me of my sass. “Besides, if you gag me, how will I be able to take your delicious fucking cock down my throat?”

Ash shuddered, and the cock in question jumped. “See what I mean?” he laughed, dropping the tough guy act for a brief second. Then, his features hardened with resolve. “Enough talking. Open that smart fucking mouth and suck me, woman.” Ash fisted my hair and pulled my head forward, thrusting his dick into my mouth as far as it could go. My eyes watered at the rough intrusion but then my throat relaxed and swallowed around his thick length.

“Use your tongue.”

I obeyed, fluttering it along the underside of his crown as he pulled his hips back and then surged forward again, fucking my face with abandon.

“Fuck yes, just like that.”

As ropey saliva leaked down my chin, I was powerless to do anything but sit there and let him defile me, but I loved the feel of his cock shoved so far down it could gag me if I let it.

And he knew it.

“Do you want my cum down that pretty little throat?” he growled as he worked in and out of my orifice.

I gave a tiny nod, and he drove into me. Again, and again, and again until my mouth was stretched so wide my jaw ached. With one hand tangled in my hair, Ash held me against him until I gagged and then, with a few more driving thrusts, shot his thick load down my throat, just like I’d asked him to. Reflexively, I swallowed every drop, and when I was done, I licked his cock clean, savoring the taste of him on my tongue.