Page 24 of His By Contract
The realization hit harder than any physical blow: Adrian wasn’t just a symbol of control anymore. He was flesh and blood, raw strength and mastery, and her body understood what her mind had fought so hard to deny.
Adrian’s touch burned her skin, his palm a brand against her heated bottom.
Each strike chipped away at the fortress she’d constructed around her heart. His thighs were solid beneath her, his hands sure and steady as they shaped her submission.
Blood rushed in her ears as another strike landed. The resentment she’d nursed like a flame flickered, threatening to die.
Her body betrayed her, arching into each impact. The heat pooled low in her belly, a warmth that had nothing to do with pain. She felt him—really felt him—for the first time. Not as the distant figure who controlled her life, but as flesh and blood, power and purpose.
The realization shattered something inside her. Her careful distance, her practiced indifference crumbled under the weight of his touch. She couldn’t pretend this was just business, not when every nerve ending sang with awareness of him.
Her throat tightened around a sound she refused to release. Tears pricked at her eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming rush of understanding. The resentment that had sustained her wavered, its edges blurring into something more complex, more dangerous.
Georgia’s world narrowed to the points of contact between them: his palm against her back, the solid strength of his thighs beneath her, the heat that radiated through her skin. Each strike built upon the last, creating a symphony of sensation she couldn’t ignore.
This wasn’t like their carefully negotiated contract. This wasn’t about medical bills or social status or keeping her mother safe. The feelings coursing through her defied the neat categories she’d built to contain their relationship.
She inhaled sharply at the next strike, the sting sinking deeper, blurring pain into something dangerously close to pleasure. She couldn’t dismiss this as just another power play, couldn’t file it away with their business arrangements and social obligations.
Her body responded to his touch with an honesty that terrified her. Each strike drove her focus to him. Not as Adrian Adler, the billionaire who owned her life, but as the man whose touch ignited every nerve in her body.
She couldn’t pretend this was just another transaction, not when her skin burned for his touch, not when her heart raced with more than fear. This wasn’t just correction or control; this was connection, visceral and undeniable.
Heat pooled in her core, a warmth that had nothing to do with punishment. Her body arched into his touch, betraying every careful defense she’d constructed. She couldn’t hide from this, couldn’t rationalize away the way she craved more.
The truth hit her like a physical blow: she wanted this. Wanted him. Not the contract, not the arrangement, but the man himself. The revelation shook her to her core, shattering every pretense of detachment she’d clung to.
Adrian’s hand rested against her back, no longer striking but present, real. The silence wrapped around them like a blanket, thick with unspoken understanding. Her body remained draped across his lap, but the position felt different now, intimate rather than disciplinary.
Georgia’s limbs felt heavy, weighted with exhaustion and something else she couldn’t name. The burning across her skin faded to a dull throb, but the heat inside her remained,impossible to ignore. Her breath came in short gasps, each one carrying the weight of revelation.
She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t face the truth that blazed through her veins. Her fingers uncurled from their death grip on the leather chair, leaving behind half-moon indents from her nails. The trembling in her muscles had nothing to do with fear or pain.
His breath stirred the hair at her nape, and Georgia’s heart stuttered. She felt seen, truly seen, for the first time since entering his world. Not as an investment or an obligation, but as a woman whose body betrayed every careful defense she’d constructed.
No words broke the quiet. None were needed.
Adrian’s movements were fluid, purposeful as he shifted away from her, standing her on her feet. His composure never wavered as he stood, straightening his suit jacket with practiced ease. Not a hair out of place, not a crack in his perfect facade. For him, this had been nothing more than a necessary correction, another move in their endless game of power and control.
He walked away, his footsteps echoing across the floor. No final words, no lingering threats. He didn’t need them. His meaning had seeped into her skin with each bruising caress, every sharp blow.
Georgia’s fingers trembled as she reached down, fumbling with the delicate lace. The fabric clung to her thighs, damp with sweat. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every brush of material sending aftershocks through her nerve endings.
She pulled the underwear up with as much dignity as she could muster, fighting the urge to wince as the elastic brushed heatedflesh. The lace pressed against tender skin, a constant reminder of what had just transpired.
Her dress had bunched around her waist, the expensive silk wrinkled from their encounter. Georgia smoothed it down with unsteady hands, the cool fabric a shock against her burning skin. Each movement felt deliberate, weighted with an awareness she couldn’t shake. The emerald silk whispered back into place, but she could still feel the ghost of his touch through the material.
Her legs felt unsteady beneath her, muscles trembling with the aftermath. She focused on breathing, on the simple act of arranging her clothing. The familiar routine of adjusting her dress gave her something to concentrate on besides the heat that still pooled in her core.
Her legs felt unsteady beneath her, but it wasn’t just physical weakness that made her sway. Something fundamental had shifted inside her, leaving her off balance and raw.
His control lingered like electricity beneath her skin. His power thrummed through her bloodstream with each beat of her heart, a steady drumbeat of submission. The warmth refused to fade, spreading through her body in waves that left her breathless.
She should feel triumphant. She’d stood her ground at the gala, claimed her talent as her own. But standing here now, with her body humming from his touch and her mind spinning with unwanted revelations, victory felt hollow.
The truth settled over her like a shroud. She might have won their public battle, might have challenged his authority before their peers. But here, in the privacy of his domain, Adrian had reminded her exactly who held the real power.
And worse—some part of her had welcomed it.
