“Ellie,” she whispered, my name low and rough, the sound curling around my restraint.
I kissed her again, harder this time, letting the moment swallow every rational thought.
My hand shifted higher, deliberate. I parted her knees just enough with the pressure of my thumb, then slid two fingers across her slit, slow enough she felt every inch of it. Wet. Too wet for someone who claimed she was in control. I held my fingers up, slick with proof.
“This is the mess you made sneaking around. Humiliating yourself on the stairs wasn’t enough? Your body gave you away too.”
Her moan vibrated against my mouth, proof she was already giving me more than she wanted to admit. Proof that control was mine. She kissed me harder, her fingers curling at the back of my neck, urging me on.
I wanted to give in, but the thought of where that would lead tightened my grip on reality. I pulled my hand away. I wrapped an arm tight around her, not to soothe but to hold her still until she stopped squirming. Then I let her go, because I was finished, not because she was.
“We should get you back to bed,” I whispered, my voice lower than I intended.
She didn’t argue. She knew better. The brush of her cheek wasn’t affection, it was surrender. I shifted, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Her nightgown brushed against my forearms, and I caught the faint scent of her hair as I started up the stairs.
Each step felt longer than it was, every muscle aware of her in my arms. I kept my focus on the hallway ahead, refusing to look down at her face, afraid I’d see something that would tempt me to stop before we reached her door.
In her bedroom, I lowered her onto the bed, careful not to jar her ankle. She was beautiful there, nightgown shifting around her thighs as she settled back against the pillows.
Her fingers closed lightly around mine before I could step away. The touch was soft, almost questioning, and heat rolled through me again before I could stop it. For a moment, the image of leaning back down and taking her mouth again flashed bright in my mind.
I shook my head once, forcing the air from my lungs. “You need to rest,” I told her, pulling the blanket up and tucking it in, a reminder that it wasn’t her decision to go to bed. “And you need to remember whose rules you follow here. I decide when you get up, when you walk, when you come. Don’t confuse my restraint for mercy. It’s control. Mine.”
Her hand loosened, though her eyes stayed on me. I stepped back, breaking the pull between us, and reached for the light switch by the door. Shadows moved in as the bulb clicked off, the shape of her barely visible in the dim spill from the hallway.
“Sweet dreams, Sabine,” I told her.
I closed the door softly and started down the hall, my thoughts a mix of warning and frustration. This could not happen again. Not with her. Not with anyone under my protection. I told myself to get my head straight, told my body to calm the hell down, but the lingering throb in my pussy made the command feel useless.
As I passed the top of the stairs, movement caught my eye. Alex stood in the open doorway of the command center, one shoulder leaning against the frame. Her expression was unreadable in the low light, but she dipped her chin in a slow nod. I gave her the same in return, then kept walking, my jaw tight and my stride steady, even if nothing inside me was.
12
Sabine
I woke to thethrobbing staccato of my ankle. It was deep and steady, like the pulse of a bruise that refused to ease. I blinked against the morning light, the curtains drawn but not completely blocking the sun. I resisted the urge to unwrap the bandage, see for myself what the damage looked like, maybe even risk the shower I had been craving since last night. The urge to pull the gauze away tugged at me harder than the ache in my ankle.
I shifted and saw a pair of crutches leaned against the nightstand. I pulled the blanket higher and tried to breathe through the tension coiled in my chest. Being here was supposed to mean safety, but all I felt was the press of invisible walls. The weight of last night sat heavy, Ellie’s warning still etched into me.Don’t confuse my restraint for mercy.I had gone to bed angry and restless, and waking did nothing to shake it off.
I glanced at the crutches again and closed my eyes, listening. The distant murmur of voices drifted up through the floor, punctuated once by the solid click of a door somewhere below. Morning in this house felt like a ritual I had not been invited into.
A knock at the door pulled me out of the spiral in my head. Before I could answer, the door opened and Cam stepped in. She crossed the room, balancing a tray in one hand. Her long black hair loose around her face. She set it on the small table near the bed without a word.
The smell of coffee reached me first. Eggs and toast. Nothing indulgent, nothing wasted. Practical food for a body that needed fuel. I should havethanked her, but the words stuck. The neatness of it all made me feel like a child being managed.
“Where are the others?” I asked instead. My voice came out too sharp, testing.
“Perimeter,” she said. Nothing more. Her tone was even and quiet. She gave away nothing of who she was underneath the stone veneer.
I picked at the corner of the toast and tried again. “Perimeter, doing what?”
“Work.”
I almost laughed, but it would have been bitter. “Well, that clears it up.”
She didn’t rise to the bait. Her eyes flicked over me, checking without asking, then returned to the tray. The silence pressed between us. I reached for the coffee just to have something to do with my hands. It was hot and strong, not sweetened the way I usually took it.
“This isn’t necessary,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I can get my own breakfast.”
