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“Thank you for standing by me and not intervening today.” My gratitude overflowed. “I can’t express how much that means to me.”

“I trust you completely,” he said. “You’re smart, Laya. You are fearlessly intuitive, and I do not doubt that together, we will make an unstoppable team, no matter our goals.”

“Thank you for saying that,” I replied, my heart swelling with emotion.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the meeting; I was only?—”

“—trying to protect me, I know,” I interjected.

“Yes,” he admitted, like a tender confession.

His lips found mine again, insistent and possessive. He kissed me with intense passion and urgency, and I mirrored his fervor. His hand wove through my hair again, his eyes wild and untamed as they locked onto mine.

He stepped closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the heat of his body radiating off him. His eyes locked onto mine, deep and hypnotic, capturing every ounce of my attention.

“Now that we’re alone, you’re mine, do you understand?” His quiet command wrapped around me and made my heart race.

His possessiveness fed the arousal burning inside me.

I tried to resist them, to deny the emotions they stirred in me. Yet, he was right—when we were alone, I belonged to him. In those private moments, I craved his touch, his control, to be marked as his and his alone.

“You’re no longer in charge, Laya,” he murmured, his lingering kisses tracing along the sensitive skin of my neck.

I leaned back, surrendering to his quiet command as his lips traced a fiery journey across my skin. The heat of his mouth sent shivers through me, awakening every nerve. Light kisses transformed into firm presses as he explored my collarbone, trailing lower and igniting a craving that consumed me and left me breathless.

His fingers traced the edge of my skirt, sliding beneath the fabric with a deft movement. Each inch he bared sent a thrillcoursing through me, making the room seem to shrink and the air to thicken with an undeniable tension.

His breath coasted over my exposed skin, heightening every sensation as he explored.

“Again?” he asked, laden with yearning, authority, and oozing a delightful blend of dominance and raw lust. “You sexy little whore!”

His fingers, both searching and assured, found the slick desire between my thighs, plunging viciously into my aching pussy.

A sharp cry escaped me, equal parts plea for escape and command for more. My knees trembled under the intensity of his whispers and caresses.

“No,” he said abruptly, withdrawing his hand with a calculated gleam.

I whimpered in protest, my body desperate for the pleasure that only he could evoke.

He brought his lips close to my ear and vowed in a tone barely above a whisper yet laden with unyielding authority, “You aren’t going to come. You’re mine, remember? I say where. I say how. I say when.”

I gaped at him, filled with both apprehension and arousal, as his declarations etched themselves into my consciousness. I bit my lip in silent submission.

He reached up once more, grasping my hair and twisting it, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as he pulled me closer. His grip was firm and insistent.

He leaned closer, his eyes heated and radiating dominance. “Do you understand me?”

I nodded, my breath coming in quick, uneven gasps, the air thick with anticipation.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“Y—you say when,” I replied, my lips trembling.

My body hummed with unquenched arousal, and I was so ready to beg for relief.

“That’s right, good girl,” he praised, and I couldn’t help but shiver.

His approval and revealed desire served as a provocative seduction for my senses.