DASHIELL
Sunday morning.
I slowly made my way downstairs, bare feet quiet on the cool hardwood. The house was blissfully silent, no fluorescent buzzing, no overlapping voices, or urgent pages. Just the low hum of the refrigerator and the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. My body still felt heavy from the long week, but the weighted blanket and twelve hours of sleep had taken the edge off the worst of the overstimulation.
I'd been thinking about it since yesterday. The idea wouldn't leave my head.
I stopped in front of Alexander's study door, hesitating for a few seconds. My toes lifted slightly off the floor out of habit before I forced them back down. I adjusted the hem of my soft oversized hoodie, my fingers tapping a quick rhythm against my thigh before I caught myself and stopped. Then I knocked twice, even though the door was open.
"Come in."
I opened the door.
Alexander was sitting behind his large desk, dressed casually in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing those thick, veined forearms. He looked relaxed but still commanding, one leg crossed over the other as he read something on his laptop. The moment I stepped inside, his black eyes lifted and locked onto me.
He didn't say anything. He just watched me with that calm, predatory focus that always made my stomach flip.
I closed the door behind me and stood a few feet away, fingers still tapping lightly against my leg.
"Dashiell."
"I… wanted to ask you something," I said directly, skipping any small talk because it felt pointless right now.
Alexander leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly. "Ask."
I swallowed, then spoke plainly. "I want an aquarium. A proper one, not too small. With live plants, good filtration, and enough space for a few angelfish and maybe some rasboras. I'll take care of everything myself. The maintenance, the water changes, all of it. It won't interfere with work or… anything else."
Alexander leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow lifting.
"You want fish," he repeated flatly, but there was amusement flickering behind the ice.
"I want a controlled ecosystem," I corrected, folding my arms. "It's not the same as having a dog that barks or a cat that knocks things over. Fish don't make sudden noises. They have routines. Feeding schedules. I could monitor the parameters every day. It would be… nice."
I shifted on my feet, cheeks warming under his unrelenting stare. "And before you say it's childish, it's scientifically proven that watching fish lowers cortisol levels. I could show you the studies."
He stared at me for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then he slowly stood up, unfolding his tall, powerful frame. He stalked toward me, each step purposeful, until he was towering over my smaller body.
I had to tilt my head back to look at him.
Alexander reached out and brushed a thumb along my jaw, his touch firm but not rough.
"What do I get," he murmured, voice low and dark, "if I allow you to have that?"
My cheeks heated instantly. I tried to hold his gaze but ended up looking at his chest instead. "I… I'll take full responsibility. You won't even notice it's there. It's just… it helps me. The sound of the filter, watching them swim, the routine of maintaining the tank. It's calming…..Predictable."
He hummed, stepping even closer until I had to take a small step back, my back almost touching the door. He caged me in with one arm braced beside my head.
"Calming," he repeated, sounding amused. "You want something calm and predictable in this house… while married to me?"
I flushed deeper but nodded stubbornly. "Yes. Exactly."
Alexander chuckled, sounding entertained. He leaned down, lips brushing my ear.
"You're cute when you're direct," he murmured. "But you still haven't answered my question. What do I get, little anomaly?"
I shivered at the nickname and the way his much larger body loomed over mine.
I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady even as my fingers started tapping again against my side.
"You get a husband who is less overstimulated after work," I said bluntly. "You get me calmer. Which means…" I hesitated, then pushed through, cheeks burning, "I'll probably be more willing to let you do that thing with my mouth that you like."
Alexander's eyes darkened. He reached out and hooked two fingers into the waistband of my sleep shorts, tugging me flush against him. His other hand came up to cradle my jaw, thumb brushing over the spot where the bruise had finally disappeared.
"More willing?" he echoed. "That sounds like negotiation, little anomaly. I don't negotiate."
I tilted my chin stubbornly, even as arousal pooled hot and heavy between us. "Then I'll set it up myself. I already picked out the model I want. Seventy gallons and I can carry the boxes."
A dangerous chuckle rumbled in his chest. He leaned down until his lips brushed my ear.
"You'll do no such thing. If you want a tank, I'll have it installed exactly where you want it. Professional setup and the best equipment money can buy." His grip on my jaw tightened just enough to make me shiver. "But I still want payment."
I let out a shaky breath, stubbornness warring with the part of me that wanted to melt against him.
"What kind of payment?" I asked.
Alexander's smile was slow and lustfilled. He walked me backwards until my back hit the wall beside the door, caging me in with his much larger body. One thigh pressed between mine.
"You're going to ride my cock right here in this study," he said calmly, like he was discussing a surgery schedule. "Slowly with your pretty eyes on me the whole time. I want to watch every little expression while you fall apart. And when you come, you're going to thank me for your fish tank like the polite little husband you are."
My face flamed. I was already half-hard against his thigh, breath coming faster.
"That's… extortion," I muttered, but there was no real protest in it. My hands fisted in his t-shirt anyway, pulling him closer.
Alexander's laugh was dark and pleased. He dipped his head and bit my lower lip gently, mindful of the spot that had only recently healed.
"Call it a mutually beneficial arrangement." His hand slid down to squeeze my ass possessively. "So, Dr. Harper-Astor… do we have a deal?"
I looked up at him, heart racing, a small stubborn smile tugging at my mouth despite the flush spreading down my neck.
"…Fine. But I get to name them after neurologists and syndromes. And you're not allowed to scare them."
Alexander's eyes gleamed with something feral and fond all at once.
"Deal."
Then his mouth crashed down on mine, hungry and claiming, and I stopped caring about anything except the heat of him, the solid wall of his body, and the terrifying, wonderful knowledge that I was completely his.
Even if I was going to argue about tank maintenance schedules later.