Chapter 205: Penny
The first thing I notice is the sheets.
Soft. Heavy, Luxurious in that lazy, sink into me kind of way. The duvet is warm, folded around my bare legs like clouds and velvet. I stretch beneath it and let out a soft sigh. God, I knew the set we picked a few weeks ago was good, but this? This is heaven. I should’ve insisted we tried them the night we bought
them.
The second thing I notice is the ache.
Deep in my hips, stretching through my thighs and lower back. A beautiful, pulsing reminder of everything that happened last night — the couch, the tub, the way he reached for me again in the middle of the night like he couldn’t get enough. And honestly?
I didn’t want him to stop.
I press my face into the pillow, smile against it, and sigh again.
I’m so happy.
I roll over, reach for him-
But the sheets on his side are cool.
My heart stutters.
I blink, sit up, rubbing my eyes, the duvet falling away from my body.
He’s here. I see him across the room, sitting in the chair by the window.
Fully dressed. Boots on. Back straight.
And that look on his face…
Ice.
I know that look.
I’ve seen it before – right before he lost his temper with a guy who called me a name at the bar. Right before he hit a punching bag so hard the wall cracked behind it.
But never directed at me.
My voice comes out softer than I expect. “Are you okay?”
He doesn’t answer.
My stomach twists.
1 crawl across the bed, not bothering to cover myself, Modesty feels stupid right now.
“Asher?” I try again.
He stands.
Too fast. Too sharp.
My heart jumps.
“What did I do?” I ask, quieter now.
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He paces.
“You?” he spits, incredulous. “You did nothing wrong
His hands go to the back of his neck like he’s trying to hold himself together.
“It’s me,” he says. “I’m what’s wrong. Penny. His voice breaks. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I blink hard. My throat tightens.
“What are you talking about?”
He looks at me
really looks
and my whole body goes still.
“I think you should leave.”
It hits like a punch.
My chest caves in, breath knocked out of me.
“What?” I whisper.
I stand slowly, confusion crawling under my skin. “Why would you say that?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
He just nods toward the mirror with a single sharp tilt of his chin.
“Go look.”
I walk toward it in a daze, bare feet padding on the floor. I stop in front of the glass, unsure of what I’m even looking for-
Then I see them.
Bruises.
Faint, but unmistakable.
His fingerprints on my hips. On my thighs. Hickeys blooming purple near my collarbone. Tiny teeth marks just above my shoulder.
I’m supposed to feel scared, I think. Or upset.
But all I feel is… warm.
1 smile.
It doesn’t hurt. Not even a little. Just remnants of one of the best nights of my life.
I turn back to him, heart wide open.
“Oh, Asher,” I say, almost laughing. “Are you serious?”
He takes a step back when I move toward him.
But not this time.
“Stop running from me,” I say. My voice is firmer than I expect. “Sit down.”
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Chapter 205: Penny
And somehow, he listens.
I climb onto his lap, bare and unbothered, straddling him with my knees bracketing his thighs. I cup his face between my hamis.
“I get worse bruises in ballet rehearsal,” I tell him. “This? Is nothing.”
His jaw tightens. “I don’t want to be the one who did that to you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“I don’t want to be like Tyler.”
I press my forehead against his. “Then don’t insult me by even comparing the two of you.”
His hands hover near my waist like he’s scared to touch me. I guide them there. Right over the bruises.
He flinches.
I kiss him, slow and deep, and whisper, “Tyler bruised me without permission. You marked me while giving me more pleasure than I’ve ever felt in my life. This “I guide his hand to one spot near my ribs, “-is proof I was yours last night. And I want that.”
He groans softly, pulling me against him like he’s drowning and I’m the air.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmurs into my neck. “Don’t even know why I said that.”
“Good,” I breathe. “Because I just slept in your bed for the first time. And I’m not even close to done being happy.”
He chuckles against my collarbone, voice rough and low. “Yeah,” he says. “I could get used to that.”
I pull back enough to see his face. “So… we’re good?”
He nods, eyes still stormy but softening.
Then he leans over, grabs one of his shirts, and slips it over my head, careful and slow. The hem falls down to my thighs like a dress.
“I don’t want to see the bruises right now,” he says.
I nod. “Okay.”
He lingers, fingers brushing my cheek, then down my arm.
“You got brave, using that tone with me.”
I grin. “You’re surprisingly good at taking orders.”
He lifts me off his lap and into his arms, bridal–style, strong and sure.
“Careful, Lieutenant,” he mutters. “You’re about to become my new favorite.”
