“Welcome home, angel.”
Xavier’s hands find my waist beneath the water, his touch sending electricity through every nerve. The familiar weight of him between my thighs feels like coming home, but this time, there’s no hesitation and no internal battle.
“One year,” he murmurs against my throat, his mask discarded somewhere on the pool’s edge. “One year of having you, and I still can’t get enough.”
His confession sends heat spiraling through me despite the cool water. The chains hold me exactly where he wants me, but unlike that first night, the restraint feels like safety rather than captivity. I arch into his touch as his fingers explore me with intimate familiarity.
“Xavier,” I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist as much as the ankle restraints allow. “Please.”
He doesn’t make me wait. The thick head of his cockpresses against my entrance, and I gasp as he fills me completely with one powerful thrust. The water amplifies every sensation, every ridge, and vein as he moves inside me.
“You feel perfect,” he groans, his forehead pressed against mine. “Always so perfect for me.”
I want to touch him, to run my hands through his dark hair the way I did this morning in our bed. But the chains force me to simply feel, to experience every stroke without the distraction of my own need to please him in return.
“Harder,” I whisper, surprising myself with the demand.
His answering thrust steals my breath. Water sloshes around us as he drives into me with increasing intensity, his hands gripping my hips to control the angle. The pool that once represented my surrender now feels like our sanctuary.
“Tell me,” he commands between thrusts. “Tell me what you are.”
“Yours,” I gasp, the word torn from me as pleasure builds. “I’m yours, Xavier. Always yours.”
His rhythm changes, becoming more demanding and more possessive. Each stroke pushes me higher as the restraints force me to take everything he gives me.
“Come for me,” he growls against my ear. “Come while these chains hold you where you belong.”
I cry out Xavier’s name, the sound echoing off the chamber walls as my release shatters me.
Xavier follows moments later, his own climaxpowerful as he buries himself deep inside me. The chains keep me positioned perfectly to take everything he gives, our bodies moving together in the intimate dance we’ve perfected over these twelve months.
As the tremors fade, Xavier’s hands become gentle on my skin, stroking softly as we both catch our breath. The water laps quietly around us while he reaches up to release my wrists from the chains. My arms fall to wrap around his neck immediately, finally able to touch him the way I’ve been craving.
“Perfect,” he whispers against my lips before capturing them in a kiss completely opposite of his earlier dominance. This kiss speaks of tenderness, reverence, and something deeper than mere possession. “You’re absolutely perfect for me, Mira.”
His words warm me more than any physical touch could. When he kisses me again, it’s with infinite care, as if I’m precious rather than an object to be conquered. The contrast to our heated passion moments before makes my chest tight with emotion.
“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth, the words coming easily now after months of learning to voice my feelings without fear.
Xavier’s smile transforms his entire face, erasing the calculating mask he shows the world. Here in our sanctuary, with water surrounding us and my legs wrapped around his waist, he’s simply the man who holds my heart.
“I love you, too,” he responds, pressing his forehead to mine. “More than I ever thought possible.”
He gently releases my ankles from the remaining chains, then lifts me effortlessly in his arms. Instead of the urgent fucking from before, his touch now speaks of safety, protection, and cherishing what we’ve built together.
Xavier carries me from the pool to the padded alcove beside the chamber, water still dripping from our bodies. He sets me down gently on the soft cushions, then reaches for one of the plush towels always kept in these rooms. His touch is reverent as he dries my skin, each pass of the fabric a caress rather than a simple necessity.
“You’re trembling,” he observes, wrapping the towel around my shoulders before pulling me against his chest.
“Not from cold,” I admit, melting into his warmth.
His arms tighten around me, and I feel his lips press against the top of my head. “I know. I feel it, too.”
We sit in comfortable silence for several minutes, listening to the distant sounds echoing through the maze. Laughter, moans, the occasional sharp cry of pleasure—our friends and their lovers are enjoying their own reunions in the darkness.
“Do you ever regret it?” Xavier asks quietly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my exposed beck. “What you gave up for this?”
I consider his question seriously. The old Mira would have mourned the loss of her independence, her structured life. But that woman was drowning in loneliness; she didn’t even recognize it until Xavier pulled her under completely.
