“Why didn’t you leave after finishing at LWU?” Ariah asks from across the dining room table.
The candlelight highlights the soft glow of her makeup. She looks radiant, and for the umpteenth time this evening, I question my acceptance to have our date here in such an intimate setting.
I know we all agreed to keep our dates with her in as controlled of an environment as possible, but nowhere in my agreement did it dictate what the date should consist of.Ichose this setup. It’s why the deep silver eyes of a girl whose very presence threatens my control stare at me from across the table.
My eyes flit across the room filled with candles and fresh bouquets before taking in the table, I had my staff set for an intimate dinner for two, and my chef prepared shrimp scampi with asparagus tips and a chocolate soufflé.
Ariah’s eyebrow arches, reminding me I have yet to answer her question once my focus returns to her.
“I always knew I would be coming back home. The Selection just sped up my timeline,” I finally say.
She nods, grabbing her glass of sparkling wine, and I smile. Each time she sips, I watch her cute nose scrunches from the bubbles. Then, I watch as she swirls the angel hair pasta onto her fork and places it into her fucking delectable mouth.
The sound she makes has me clear my throat and try to shift my focus.“What made you go along with the Selection process without putting up so much of a fight?” It’s something I’ve been wondering since we found out she was Wyatt’s choice. Ariah doesn’t strike me as the type of person to fall in line.
She finishes chewing, grabbing another sip of her drink before she answers, “It’s simple, really. My siblings. My parents weren’t around, and I needed to take care of them.” She stares me straight in the eyes before she says the next part— all softness and light leaving her features. “When your back is against the wall, you’ll do whatever it takes to survive. Even playing in the weirdo version of pick your bride.”
“We’re pawns in this game of chess,” I reply.
She snorts, “You only remain a pawn when you refuse to fight your way across the board and become a queen.”
That answer piques my interest.
“Are you fighting, Ariah?” I hear the huskiness of my own voice.
Again she meets my eye. “Until my last breath.”
I want so badly to see her fight— see her at my mercy.
Her head tilts, “Are you fighting, Bastian?”
I bite my lip at the breathy sound of my name on her lips. “More than you can imagine,” I respond, no longer sure if we’re talking about the Selection.
“Why?”
My jaw clenches at the challenge in her tone. How can one word hold such power?Why?Why what, I want to ask. Instead, I retort, “Because ceding control is not something I do— taking it, however, is. So, I will fight to keep it.” Then, I grab the glass filled with amber liquid and bring it to my lips.
Ariah gently places her fork on the plate in front of her. “One could say giving over control to the right person is the most powerful show of control.”
Does she even know what she’s implying?
I stare at her over my glass before taking a sip of whiskey. The burn enters my bloodstream, fueling a simmering fire within me. “I don’t think you understand what it means to offer yourself over to someone to control you, and you should be careful because a weaker man would take advantage,” I state. I’m met with her tinkling laughter.
“I think you’re full of shit Sebastian Grant. I think when met with a challenge, you hide behind your veil of perceived control when it’s really just a crutch.”
Placing my glass back on the table, I push out my chair as the dessert is brought out. “Is that right, Little Spitfire?” I grab the blackberry on the side of the dish and bring it to my mouth, biting off a small piece and licking the juices from the corner of my mouth, enjoying the way Ariah’s eyes follow the movement of my tongue. Then I lean into her space, bringing the dark rich fruit to her lips. She opens, and I rub her lips until they’re painted in the blackberry juices. “Do you think I’m afraid to control you, Ariah?” I ask, bringing the berry back to my mouth and eating it. “Do you think I am a man that denies themselves what they truly want to possess for very long?” I growl, then bring my mouth to her and suck on her blackberry-stained bottom lip. She moans, and the sound shoots straight to my dick. Reluctantly, I release her mouth and use my hand to clear everything from the table. “I think it’s time you learn why I was holding back.”
Her shocked gasp gives me enough time to lift her from her seat and lay her on the table. “Sebas-,” she begins to object, but my finger lands on her mouth, silencing her.
“The time for talking is done— from now on, the only time I want to hear you speak is when you’re asked to count and you are to address me as Sir.” My dick throbs at the sight of her eyes bulging with my directives. “Do you understand, Ariah?”
She nods, and I tsk. “That’s one. Let’s try this again, shall we? Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she mumbles, and I lift my finger from her lips. “Oh, I see we have a little brat present. That’s two. Do you know two of what that is?”
She shakes her head. “That’s three.” I smile. “Tonight is going to be such a lovely lesson for you in what it means to relinquish control.” I unbutton my sleeves and roll them to my elbow.
“The only lesson I’m getting so far is that you’re all talk,” she sasses.
