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Her eyes flash with defiance, but there’s something deeper there – a shimmer of desire that’s been there from the beginning. I can see it in the way her eyes darken, in the way her lips part slightly.
“Take me,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of our breathing.
With a grin that’s mutual, I grasp the pen and gently trace it down the side of her neck, making her skin tingle. She lets out a soft, ragged breath as my touch sends shivers down her spine and the fine hairs on her neck stand to attention.
“You don’t have to ask, princess,” I murmur, my voice laden with promise and threat. She knows that I’ve wanted this from the very beginning, and she wants it just as much as I do. This game we play is one that we both know we can’t lose.
I press the cold metal of the pen against her skin, just above her collarbone, and apply gentle pressure. She gasps and her eyes fly open, wide with surprise and anticipation. Her heart rate quickens, and I can sense the excitement coursing through her veins, making me feel alive and invincible.
As I guide the pen down her chest, tracing over the delicate curve of her breasts, I almost drown in the desire and trust in her eyes. She’s letting me in, surrendering to me piece by piece. Her body trembles slightly, but the heat radiating from her skin is a testament to her desire.
With a final, firm stroke, I trace the pen down her stomach. Her breath hitches as the sensation sends shivers through her. I pause, my gaze locked with hers. This woman is not a submissive, but she trusts me. Maybe not completely, and definitely not with all the things that matter. But with this? With her body and her pleasure? She trusts me implicitly.
“You’re mine,” I whisper, my breath hot on her face. “I don’t care what my brothers did to you this morning, Odile Kemp. You need a lesson in remembering who you belong to.“
She laughs softly, a dark sound that twists in her throat. Her eyes are still dark, but her smile is different now, filled with humour and something else. “I know,” she says, her voice low and husky. “You’re always looking for an opportunity to remind me.”
“It’s a lesson I need to keep reinforcing, don’t you think?”
“You certainly seem to think so,” she says, her eyes still fixed on mine. “But perhaps it’s time to introduce a new lesson. A lesson that’s been in the works for a while now.”
I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh?”
“Yes,” she says, her voice low and thrilling. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe it’s time for you to be the one who submits.”
My heart skips a beat, my blood pounding painfully in my veins. “Submit? To you?” I ask, the words nearly a growl.
She nods slowly, her eyes still locked on mine. “Yes,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper but her eyes filled with wicked delight. “To me.”
She smiles, still laid out on my desk and making no effort to move.
My heart races as I take a step back. “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice barely more than a hoarse rasp.
She reaches up, twists her fingers in my hair, and drags my face closer to hers. “I mean, it’s time for you to learn what it feels like to be dominated, to surrender control,” she purrs, her voice dripping with promise and threat.
My mind races with the possibilities of this new game, of this new lesson. The thought exhilarates me but I can’t give in so easily.
“I don’t submit to anyone, Odile.”
“Neither do I,” she whispers back. “This isn’t real. I’ll feed into your need for control to a point, Axel, but if you want this marriage to mean something – something more than a power play against your father and some bullshit rule of the games – then you’ll wed me as an equal, not as a possession.”
I swallow hard, my mind focusing on the building desire coursing through my veins that her words have created.I’ve never had an equal before, but I always knew if anyone could match me or even come remotely close, it would be her.
“Alright,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the sound of our ragged breathing. “Let’s see what you have in mind.”
She releases me and sits up, her eyes staying locked on mine. With sure hands, she reaches out, grasps the edges of my shirt and pulls them apart. Buttons fly everywhere and her grin is serpentine; satisfied and seductive. She reaches for the pen, and with a devilish smile, she traces it down my inked chest.
I can’t help but let out a soft groan.
“Kneel,” she commands, her voice sharp and authoritative. My body obeys without hesitation, even as my mind baulks at the edict.
As I kneel before her, she leans down and places the pen on my chest, her fingers grazing my skin as she holds it in place. “If I’m yours, Axel Abbot, you must be mine too.”
I swallow hard, my mind spinning at the thought of surrendering control to her. There’s something undeniably alluring about it.
“I’m yours, Odile. Just like I have been from the very beginning. Just like I know I always will be in this life and the next, and in any reincarnation that follows. I defy the universe to keep me from you. If it tried, I’d rip it apart at the seams.”
Her eyes darken, filled with satisfaction and power. Slowly, she traces the pen across my chest and a jolt of electricity courses through me.I feel free.
