Summary:

"I wanted you to be there in the bar and tell this guy to fuck off. I wanted you to put your arm around me, to kiss my cheek or my hair or my jaw, or… I don't know, grab my ass like a freak. I wanted to say I was taken. I know we can't do any of that, in public, really. Of course I know that."

Shane tipped his head back. "But I want… I want you to want to claim me. Maybe it's weird for me to want this? I know it's nice to say that you don't own someone, because we're people, not objects. But I've always—"

Cutting himself off, he took a shaky breath. Why was this so hard to say?

"Is not weird to want," Ilya said quietly.

Or, Shane wants to be owned.