I sank down onto the rug beside his chair, my knees pressing into the soft wool, my hands folded in my lap. The position was submissive, degrading, designed to remind me of my place. I hated how much my body responded to it, the warmth pooling in my belly, the slick beginning to gather between my thighs.
"Good girl." His hand came down to rest on my head, his fingers threading through my hair, petting me like I was something small and precious and owned. "You're learning."
The praise made me shiver. Time passed strangely in this new dynamic. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like minutes. Mason read a book while I knelt at his feet, his hand occasionally stroking through my hair, his presence a constant weight pressing down on me. I grew thirsty but didn't dare speak until the need became unbearable.
"May I have some water, Alpha?" The words came out barely above a whisper, my voice rough with disuse, my throat dry and aching.
Mason looked up from his book, his dark eyes studying me for a long moment before he nodded. "You may. There's a glass on the kitchen counter. You have thirty seconds."
I scrambled to my feet, my legs protesting after so long in one position, and hurried to the kitchen. My hands shook as I grabbed the glass, filled it from the tap, and drank deeply. I was back at his side in twenty-two seconds, sinking back onto my knees, my breath coming fast.
"Good girl." The praise again, warm and approving, making my Omega purr with contentment. "You followed the rules. You asked permission. You obeyed promptly."
He set aside his book and leaned forward, his forearms braced on his knees, his face close to mine. His scent surrounded me making my head swim.
"This is what I need you to understand, Ava," he said, his voice low and intense, his breath warm against my face. "When you submit to me, when you follow the rules, when you give up control, that's when you're safe. That's when you're loved. That's when you get everything you need." His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone with surprising tenderness.
"But when you fight. When you run. When you try to take back control that was never yours to begin with—" His grip tightened, just slightly, just enough to make my breath catch. "That's when you get hurt. That's when we all get hurt. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Alpha," I whispered, tears pricking at my eyes despite myself, the truth of his words hitting me somewhere deep and vulnerable. "I understand."
"Good." He released my face and leaned back in his chair, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Now. I need to use the bathroom. You'll wait here, exactly as you are, until I return. You will not move. You will not speak. You will not touch yourself. Understood?"
"Yes, Alpha." He rose and left the room, and I stayed exactly where I was, kneeling on the rug, my hands folded in my lap, my heart pounding in my chest. The position was uncomfortable, my knees aching against the floor, my thighs trembling with the strain. But I didn't move. Didn't even shift my weight.
Because he'd told me not to. Because he was teaching me something important. Because, beneath the humiliation and thediscomfort and the desperate need coiling in my belly, I was starting to understand. This was what it meant to be theirs. Not just the pleasure. Not just the protection. The surrender. The trust. The giving up of everything I thought I needed to hold onto, and finding something deeper in its place. Mason returned after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes. His eyes swept over me, taking in my unchanged position, my trembling thighs, the tears tracking silently down my cheeks.
"Perfect," he said, and the word was like a benediction, like absolution, like everything I'd ever needed to hear. "You stayed. You obeyed. You're learning, little Omega. You're learning so well." He held out his hand, and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. My legs nearly gave out beneath me, but his arm wrapped around my waist, steadying me, holding me against his solid warmth.
"I think," he murmured against my hair, his lips brushing against my temple, "it's time for the next lesson."
He took me to the nest. The room was dim, the curtains drawn against the afternoon light, the bed a sprawling expanse of blankets and pillows that smelled like all of them. Mason guided me to the center and positioned me on my back, my arms at my sides, my legs pressed together.
"Don't move," he commanded, his voice hard as iron, his dark eyes burning into mine. "Don't speak unless I ask you a question. And don't you dare come until I give you permission. Understood?"
"Yes, Alpha." My voice came out breathless, my heart hammering against my ribs, my entire body thrumming with anticipation. He undressed slowly, methodically, his movements deliberate and controlled. First the shirt, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the ridged muscles of his abdomen. Thenhis jeans, pushed down over his hips to reveal black boxer briefs straining against his obvious arousal.
I watched with hungry eyes, my mouth going dry, my core clenching with need. I didn't move. Didn't reach for him. Didn't beg.
"Good girl." He knelt on the bed beside me, his hand coming to rest on my stomach, warm and heavy through the thin fabric of my shirt. "You're learning to wait. To be patient. To take only what I give you." His hand slid up, pushing the shirt with it, exposing inch after inch of my skin to the cool air. He didn't remove it entirely, just pushed it up over my breasts, bunching it beneath my armpits, leaving me exposed and vulnerable and aching for his touch.
"Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over my body with dark appreciation, his hand hovering just above my skin without quite touching. "Do you want me to touch you, Ava?"
"Yes, Alpha." The words came out as a whimper, desperate and needy, all pretense of dignity abandoned.
"Then ask."
I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning with humiliation, my body burning with need. "Please touch me, Alpha. Please."
"Where?" His hand drifted lower, still not touching, tracing the air above my stomach, my hips, the trembling plane of my lower belly. "Be specific."
"My— my breasts, Alpha. Please touch my breasts." His hand moved up, finally — finally — making contact, his palm cupping my breast with firm, possessive pressure. I gasped at the contact, my back arching involuntarily off the bed, my nipple hardening instantly against his palm.
"Don't move," he reminded me, his voice sharp, his hand stilling. "You stay exactly as I put you. You take only what I give you. Understood?"
"Yes, Alpha." I forced my body back down, forced myself to stillness, though every nerve screamed for more. He rewarded my obedience with a slow, deliberate squeeze, his fingers finding my nipple and rolling it between thumb and forefinger. The sensation shot straight to my core, making me clench around nothing, making slick pool between my thighs.
"Good girl." His other hand joined the first, working my other breast with the same methodical attention. "You're so responsive. So desperate for touch. Not including what happened to keep you alive, how long has it been someone touched you Avalon."
