I sink.
First onto shaky knees, the cheap carpet scraping against my skin, then forward, palms pressing flat as I shuffle toward him. The sound of my breathing fills the entryway—ragged, frantic, loud as sin. The closer I get, the heavier his presence feels, like the air thickens around him, dragging me lower.
When I reach his boots, I freeze. My hands twitch on the floor. My thighs burn from the crawl like I just skated suicides for hours.
I look up.
Fuck.
From here, he’s massive. Towering, shoulders crowding the doorway, shadow cutting down over me. His mismatched eyes look carved from something older than stone—one glacial, one abyssal, both pinning me like prey dumb enough to kneel at a wolf’s feet.
I love that anyone looking in would think I’ve been forced here, think this is a scene of ruin and power and nothing else. They’d never believe the truth—that I’machingfor it, trembling with want, yearning to be exactly where I am: on my knees, looking up at my captain like he’s God.
“Good,” he says at last. His hand lowers, fingers curling into my hair, not yanking this time—just holding. “Exactly where you belong.”
My breath shatters. My eyes flutter. My whole chest caves around the word, heat shooting down my spine until I’m swaying into his grip.
“Yes, sir.” It falls out broken, hoarse, but real.
And the smirk that cuts across his scar tells me he knows it.
His hand tightens firm enough that my breath hitches, my throat straining under the pull as he drags me up off the floor.My knees scrape across the carpet, my legs stumble, and then—suddenly—I’m standing.
Pinned.
And for half a second I think he’s going to make me wait again. Make me crawl more, beg more, shake more.
He doesn’t.
He spins me fast, shoving me back against the wall just inside the door. My spine slams the plaster, my head snaps back, and then his mouth ison mine.
It’s nothing like the SUV kiss yesterday. That was silencing. Controlling. A command to shut the fuck up.
This? This is apromise kept.
His teeth bite my lip until I gasp. His tongue drives past mine, filthy and claiming, drowning me in whiskey heat and the taste of salt on his skin. His hand fists tighter, yanking my head back until I’m open, exposed, moaning shamelessly into him.
“Sir—” I choke, voice cracking, but it breaks apart when his hips slam into mine.
Christ.
The weight of him pins me to the wall, grinding down against me through fabric, his cock hard, heavy, exactly where he said it would be. My legs almost give, but he holds me up with one hand in my hair, the other clamped around my jaw.
“Promised you,” he growls against my mouth, every word vibrating into my bones. “Said I’d fuck you the second we got here. Didn’t I, pup?”
My lungs seize. My whole body trembles. “Y-yes, sir—”
His smirk is cruel and perfect. “And you thought I wouldn’t.”
Then he shoves my legs apart with his knee, crowding closer, his cock grinding harder through the thin fabric between us. My head slams back against the wall, a moan ripping out of me so loud the neighbors could hear—and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except him, the weight, the heat, the way he promised and now he’s making it real.
“Mine,” he snarls, kissing me harder, teeth clashing, spit slicking my chin. “Every inch of you.“
And I let him take it. Every bit.
Because this is the part I love most—when he makes good on his threats, when he doesn’t leave me guessing, when his hands and his mouth and his cock prove that being his is more than a word.
It’s survival.
