Page 57 of The Rules

His expression shifted subtly, the hardness in his eyes softening into something more complex. Not quite anger anymore, but something that resembled reluctant appreciation. Dangerous still, yet tinged with grudging respect for her audacity.

She lifted both hands in theatrical surrender. "Okay, okay."

Just like that, the jagged precipice between them smoothed. The ice in his hand transformed—not vanishing, but changing state. For one fleeting, precious moment, the world surrounding Katherine felt less brittle. Less merciless.

Chapter 15

Benjamin

Two weeks. That’s how long it’s been since she disappeared from the floor. Since he heard her scream. Since everything changed.

And now—she’s here.

Dressed like sin. Standing like a storm. Acting like none of it ever happened.

Ben stands in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. Blondie, bathed in golden light, silk clinging to every curve.

She shifts her weight to one hip, and his eyes track the movement with sharp focus.

He lets the moment stretch, watching the subtle tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers flex like she’s holding something back.

Then—click. The door shuts behind him. Quiet. Final.

They’re alone.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," she says, voice rich with mock disappointment.

He chuckles under his breath as he methodically rolls up his sleeves. The sound is low, controlled, promising. "That would imply I didn't want to be here."

Blondie's head tilts, one perfect eyebrow arching. A smirk plays at her painted lips. "A man like you? Wanting something? That sounds dangerous."

He moves toward her with measured steps, closing the distance until his presence becomes a tangible force.

Heat radiates between them, her silk dress the only barrier. She holds her ground, chin lifted in silent challenge.

Ben lifts his hand with deliberate slowness, drawing one finger along the inside of her wrist. His gaze catches on thepurple bruise marring her elbow. He catalogs it, files it away, but his expression reveals nothing.

A tiny hitch in her breath gives her away.

He leans in close, voice dropping to a dark whisper near her ear.

"You have no idea how much."

Ben wraps his fingers around her wrist, applying just enough pressure to feel her pulse quicken beneath his touch. Not harsh, not demanding - simply a reminder that tonight, the rules have shifted. He watches as she adjusts her stance, unconsciously responding to his silent claim.

Leaning forward, he lets his breath ghost over the sensitive skin at her neck, his lips hovering close enough that she can feel their heat without contact. "Tonight, you don't get to touch me."

She lets out a quick breath - caught between a laugh and something darker. "That's my rule," she challenges, but her voice wavers slightly, betraying the effect he has on her.

His lips curve into a predatory smile. "Not tonight."

Before she can respond, he strips the tie from his neck with lethal efficiency. She arches a questioning brow, but offers no resistance—not even as he circles behind her, a predator claiming his territory.

His movements unfold with deliberate patience, almost worshipful in their precision. He captures her wrists behind her back, binding them with silk that whispers against her skin—secure enough to command, slack enough to torment. Her breath fractures, and he savors the sudden flutter of her pulse beneath his fingertips.

Only then does he steer her to the couch, positioning her with quiet dominance, her bound hands pressed against the cushions behind her. Restrained. Possessed. Precisely where he's orchestrated her to be.

Ben attacks his shirt buttons with calculated slowness. One release. Two. Three. He notes how her gaze clings to his fingers,catches the unconscious sweep of her tongue wetting her lips. Something primal unfurls inside him at her undisguised hunger.