Chapter 8 | Asshole’s Permission

MAYA

“Mom….Dad… why did you have to leave me alone with him?” I whimpered, rocking slightly.

I cursed him under my breath in every language I knew. A bit of English, Russian and broken French- calling him every filthy name I could think of. Heartless. Cruel. Bastard. Devil. Asshole who ruined me and then told me to pretend he didn’t.

I was busy cursing at him when a sharp knock on the door made me freeze. “Maya.”

His deep, commanding voice slid under the door like smoke. I stopped breathing. “Maya, come down to eat. I’ve been calling you.”

My eyes widened in panic. No. No no no. He couldn’t see me like this- red-faced, puffy-eyed, broken. I looked so messy. Nooo-

I quickly wiped at my tears but they wouldn’t stop. My lips quivered as I forced my voice out. “I-I’m not hungry… and I’m going to take a bath-”

“Stop lying and come down.”

His footsteps retreated down the hallway before I could answer. “Jerk,” I whispered, but even that sounded weak. He was always like that. Leaving no room for argument.

I screamed into my pillow, stomping my feet on the floor like a child. I yanked the duvet off the bed and threw it across the room. “You’re an asshole, Tristan Desmond! A big fucking asshole!”

After a few minutes of heavy breathing, I dragged myself up and looked in the mirror. My eyes were still red. I splashed cold water on my face, clipped my hair into a messy bun, and changed into a loose pink sweater and grey sweatpants. No bra. I didn’t care.

I walked downstairs shamefully, arms wrapped around myself.

“I’m here,” his voice came from the living room, low and smooth. I jumped, cheeks burning instantly. I shuffled in quietly and sat on the far end of the couch, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to my chest like a shield, half-hiding my face behind it.

Tristan sat across from me, legs crossed, sipping black coffee like he owned the entire damn house. He looked infuriatingly calm and hot in a simple black t-shirt that stretched across his chest. “What are you doing here?” I asked, voice barely steady, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Look at me when you talk to me, Maya.” His tone left no room for argument.

My breath hitched. I slowly lifted my gaze. Those black eyes pinned me instantly.

“I have some work here in the city,” he said casually. “It’s been a while since I had free time. Your dad invited me to stay over.”

I sighed. “Dad should have told me…”

“So Maya…” He set the mug down, eyes narrowing. “Have you really turned into a spoiled girl behind your parents’ back-”

“Stop!” I cut him off sharply. “You’ve been trying to insult me since last night. I’m ashamed, okay? But that doesn’t mean you can keep insulting me.”

Tristan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So will you explain?”

“I don’t need to explain anything to anyone,” I shot back, voice shaking. “I’m an adult. I can do whatever I want.”

His cold expression didn’t change. That famous icy stare pierced straight through me and made me shift uncomfortably on the couch. “So you can come home undressed, dripping wet, spreading your legs on the couch and acting like a needy little slut-”

My cheeks burned hotter than fire. Tears glistened in my eyes again. I grabbed the pillow and hurled it at him with all my strength. He dodged it smoothly, the pillow hitting the wall behind him.

“Why are you being such a jerk to me?” My voice cracked. “Why are you making fun of me? You already know how I feel about you! You know what I’ve felt for years!”

Tristan stood up slowly. “Do you really think it could happen between us?” he asked, voice dangerously low. “Have you ever thought how your thoughts and feelings would affect our family’s relations?”

I was speechless. My mouth opened but nothing came out. He took slow steps forward until he stopped just inches away from me. “We are going to forget what happened last night,” he said coldly.

“No one’s going to know. And for as long as your parents aren’t back and I’m here… you’re not going anywhere without permission.” He stepped even closer.

“My permission.”

My lashes fluttered. I felt dizzy with him this close. My oversized sweater slipped off one shoulder, exposing my bare collarbone and the top swell of my breast. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. My nipples hardened instantly under his dark gaze, poking obviously against the soft pink fabric.

Tristan’s eyes dropped straight to my chest. His jaw flexed. “No-” I stammered, trying to pull the sweater back up. “I-I’ll talk to Dad. You don’t need to keep an eye on me-”

Before I could step away, his hand shot out and wrapped around my upper arm. He yanked me back.

I gasped sharply as my chest collided hard with his solid torso. My soft breasts pressed flush against his hard chest. Heat flooded between my thighs instantly.

“I am not keeping an eye on you for your parents…” His voice dropped lower, rougher, lips brushing near my ear. “But for myself.”

My breath hitched. I could feel the heat of his body, the steady thump of his heart, the way his fingers gripped my arm possessively. My nipples were so stiff they ached. I knew he could feel them poking against him.

“Tristan…” I whispered, voice trembling with equal parts fear and desperate want.

“You heard me, princess.” His grip tightened slightly, thumb stroking the sensitive skin of my inner arm.

“You don’t leave this house without telling me. You don’t drink. You don’t go out dressed like a fucking temptation. And you sure as hell don’t touch that pretty little pussy unless I say so.”

My pussy clenched hard at his words. A fresh wave of wetness soaked my panties. “You can’t… you can’t say things like that after telling me to forget everything,” I breathed, eyes glassy.

“I can say whatever the fuck I want.” His other hand came up, fingers brushing the exposed skin of my shoulder, tracing lightly over my collarbone.

“Because last night you begged Daddy to finger-fuck you until you squirted like a dirty little whore. And we both know you’d beg again right now if I told you to.” I whimpered, knees weakening. My thighs pressed together instinctively.

“So be a good girl, Maya,” he murmured, voice dark. “Keep that needy cunt under control. Because if you push me… I won’t be gentle next time.”

He released my arm slowly, stepping back. My chest heaved. I was trembling, nipples aching, pussy throbbing painfully. Tristan picked up his coffee mug like nothing had happened and walked toward the kitchen.

“Eat something. That’s not a request.” I stood there frozen, sweater still hanging off one shoulder, heart racing, body on fire.

I couldn’t sit still.

I was curled up on the living room couch under a thin blanket, legs tucked beneath me, but my mind kept replaying every single word Tristan had said this morning.

“You’re not going anywhere without my permission.”

“I’m not keeping an eye on you for your parents… but for myself.”