Page 92 of Criminally Yours

His smile was tentative as he held the duvet back for her.

She slid into the bed, and he snuggled up behind her. She pulled his arm around her like she had in the tent. “And Strike, it’s always been you. I’ll always love you, too.”

He kissed her neck. It brought the stirrings of desire.

“Will you tell me about your sexting? I want a future with you, if that’s what you want. I’ll have whatever you give me, whether that’s chaste kisses or more. But I want to understand you.”

“Okay,” she stuttered. She sucked in the air and released it slowly. “I started using the app because I was curious. Even when I couldn’t be touched, I loved dirty talk in books. I joined anonymously. It seemed wrong, which made it more exciting.”

“More of a turn-on?” His voice was deep and growly.

“Yes. At first, I didn’t say much. People would post images from television or porn or share fantasies about what they wanted to do. That did things to me.”

“Good things?”

“So good, but after a while, it wasn’t enough. I’d had messages, but I’d ignored them. One night, when I couldn’t get myself off, I replied to a few.” Her voice dropped. “I always checked they were single and made sure they knew it would only be chatting. Hearing what these strangers wanted to do with me made me needy. It still felt wrong, though.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d searched for this kind of connection out of fear.”

“But you gained from it. It helped, and you kept yourself safe.” He entwined his hands with hers.

“I suppose. But it became an addiction. I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would. It taught me about my needs, things I’d read in books that made me horny, and I liked hearing from real people. But I don’t know if that’s who I am outside of what I’ve read. Would I want to do that with someone, and would anyone be willing to do that with me? I don’t know why I’m saying this. I can’t let a guy touch me.”

“You let me,” he murmured, and she nodded. “What sort of things did you like?”

“Promise you won’t judge me.”

She held out her hand, and he signed his name with his finger against her palm. She shivered at the caress. Millie turned to look at him. His eyes were dark and filled with a desire that made her gasp.

“I have dark needs, too. Maybe because I’ve seen the worst things in the world, but maybe they’ve always been in me. It’s escalated since I’ve been protecting you. I’m terrified something will happen to you, but that’s meant I want to control you.”

She gulped. He studied her throat as she swallowed. “How?”

“Promise you won’t judge?” he said.

She nodded.

“I fantasise about making you get on your knees and fucking your pretty mouth. I fantasise about pinning you to a bed, using ropes and ties and playing with you, taking you to the edge of orgasm again and again but always denying your climax. Is it fucked up?”

She kissed him, and his lashes fluttered. “I don’t think so. And if it is, then I am, too, because the things you said are things I want. But if you’ve never had sex aside from me, how do you know these are things you like?”

“I don’t, not in practice. I have others, more gentle ones, but when I’m stressed or struggling, those are the fantasies that help me get off the most.”

“And is it always me in your fantasies, or were there others before this week?”

“It’s always been you. I’ve dreamt about you for years.”

“What sort of dreams?”

He tipped his head as he stared at her. “A couple of months ago, I dreamt about planning a date with you. I was excited to buy you flowers, book the restaurant, and arrive at your door. I imagined you squealing as the doorbell rang because you were just as excited.”

“That’s sweeter than I expected.”

“I have romantic, chaste fantasies about you, too, but sometimes my dreams change into something else. Like that dream. In it, you had two types of dresses: ones suitable for nights out at restaurants and ones that meant you’d get bent over the sofa.”

Millie hummed at the way his voice dropped at the last sentence. “Which one was I wearing when I opened the door?”