Nathan sets down his fork, his jaw tight. "Out there, you were vulnerable. Being attacked by people like Bryce and Fred."
"And you're different?" I laugh bitterly. "You took everything, Nathan. At least Bryce was honest about wanting to destroy me. You pretend you're doing this for my own good."
He stands abruptly, moving around the table to grip my chair's armrests, caging me in. His face is inches from mine.
"I am doing this for your own good," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Whether you see it yet or not."
My heart is pounding, and I hate that it's not just fear. It's the proximity. The heat of his body. The way his intensity focuses entirely on me.
"Let me go," I whisper, but it comes out breathless.
"Never." His hand cups my face. "You're mine, Eve. And I will keep you safe even if you hate me for it."
Then he kisses me, hard and possessive, and I kiss him back with all the fury and terrible wanting inside me. My hands slide into his hair, and he lifts me from the chair, my legs wrapping around his waist.
He carries me inside, his mouth never leaving mine, and I lose myself in the heat of him. In the way his hands claim every inch of me.
When he finally pulls back, we're both breathing hard, his forehead against mine.
"I hate you," I whisper against his lips.
"I know," he says, and kisses me again.
He puts me down and takes my hand to lead me past the bedroom, down a hallway I didn't notice before.
To another black door. Another biometric lock.
My pulse kicks up as I realize what this is. The villa's version of the Dungeon.
I should say no. Should tell him I need more time. Should maintain some shred of autonomy.
"Show me," I whisper.
The door opens.
This room is different from the one in the penthouse. Larger. More... elaborate. The same black walls, but with more equipment. More restraints. More ways to render me helpless.
My heart pounds as Nathan leads me inside, his hand gentle on my lower back.
"I won't do anything you don't want," he says. "But I need you to understand what I need from you. What this part of our relationship means to me."
I nod, unable to speak.
He guides me to the center of the room, to a leather bench positioned beneath a suspension rig. My breath catches.
"Kneel," he says softly.
I do. My knees hit the padded leather, and I feel the power dynamic shift like gravity pulling me down. Above me. Nathan. In control. Completely in command.
He circles me slowly, and I feel his gaze like a physical touch.
"Your safe word is pineapple," he reminds me. "You remember?"
"Yes," I breathe.
"Say it. I need to hear you say it."
"Pineapple. My safe word is pineapple."
