“You know what your problem is?” I asked, coming to stop right behind her. My chest brushed her back, heat pooling between us. “You think if you act reckless enough, I won’t notice how scared you are.”
“I’m not scared of you,” she snapped, though the stiffening of her body gave her away.
I slipped my hand to her waist, steadying her. She went taut beneath my grip, but I didn’t squeeze. I just rested there.
"You had every opportunity to fight, scream, run, or cause a scene, but you didn’t. Instead, you put on the necklace because I told you to. From where I stand, that looks nothing likedefiance and more like obedience, whether you care to admit it or not. And that’s what’s got you pissed, right?” I murmured. “Not the chain, the collar, or even me. You’re mad that you don’t hate how much control I have over you.”
I turned her slightly, guiding her by the waist until she was angled toward the mirror. Her reflection stared back, flushed, shaken, and undone in a way she hadn’t planned for. And me, I stood behind her, eager to elicit a punishment she wouldn’t be too proud to beg for. The kind she’d pretend to hate until it made her knees shake and her pride crack wide open.
“You wanna test me? Go ahead. Move. Say something slick. Give me a reason to make this hurt first.” I brushed her hair over one shoulder, exposing the line of her neck, and this time she flinched as she mashed her lips together.
“Hmm. What’s the matter? Don’t get quiet now. I know you feel that,” I said, voice low and steady.
“Feel what?” she asked breathily.
“That tight little knot in your stomach? That’s not fear, baby. That’s anticipation.”
Her jaw locked, lips pressed in a thin, unmoved line, a clear sign that she was losing the last of her resolve. She remained silent, and I let the quiet linger, allowing the gravity of the moment to envelop her, pressing into every inch of her skin that she had desperately tried to numb.
My hand slid higher, fingers teasing just below the band of her top, and she didn’t stop me. She stood there, frozen, furious, and aching, and let me look. Let me touch. Let me own the space between us.
“You want to keep pretending the attraction is one-sided, fine. Lie to yourself if that helps you sleep, but you’re gonna stand right here until I’m done with you.”
Her eyes snapped to mine in the mirror, wide with tension that came before a scream or a moan, and I hadn’t even started yet.
I tightened the chain around my fist.
“Now be a good girl… and don’t move.”
She didn’t answer, just stared at me with those wide, defiant eyes. Fuck, she was beautiful when she was scared. I yanked the leash again, forcing her to arch her back, her ass pressing against my dick. I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of my pants, and it took everything in me not to rip her panties off her right then and there.
“What are you doing? I thought you said you don’t need my body?” she asked, her voice quivering with lust.
“I don’t—but you offered it, now it’s time to pay up,” I replied, calling her bluff.
I didn’t need her body. That much was true. I had no shortage of women willing to please me, and no hunger that couldn’t be satisfied elsewhere. This moment wasn’t about pleasure. It was about control. She had tested boundaries, and I didn’t tolerate being pushed, so it was time for her to learn what obedience looked like under my terms.
“Now, before I slut you out the way you seem to prefer, you’d do well to remember, every inch of you belongs to me, and when you fuck up, I’m the one who decides how you pay for it."
I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back until she was looking up at me. Her lips were trembling, but she didn’t make a sound.
Fuck, I loved how she let me handle her without breaking.
"You won’t get my dick tonight. When I finally fuck you, it’ll be because you earned it," I said, my voice laced with venom. "You’re going to beg for my forgiveness, and for the privilege of being fucked by me." I released her hair and stepped back, the leash still tight in my hand.
"On your knees."
For a second, she didn’t move. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Then—slowly, gracefully—she sank to the floor, her hands gliding down my thighs for balance like a womanchoosingto kneel, not being forced to.
She didn’t speak, but the way she looked up at me—lashes low, lips slightly parted—made my dick twitch with anticipation. Her hands stayed on my thighs, soft and obedient, and when she whispered,"Like this?"with her voice drenched in submission, I believed her.
I fucking believed her.
Chapter 3
Lock Jaw
Khalil
