The buildup is different this time. Slower. Building from somewhere deep in my core. I pull against the ropes, not fighting them but needing their anchor as sensation builds and builds.
"You feel that?" His voice is strained now, control slipping. "That's what happens when you let go. When you trust me to take care of you."
His thumb finds my clit, circles it in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation pushes me closer and closer to the edge.
"Come with me," he growls. "Now."
The orgasm hits like a wave, rolling through me in long pulses that seem endless. I feel him follow, his rhythm breaking as he buries himself deep and holds there. The warmth flooding inside me extends the sensation, keeps me suspended in pleasure until I can't tell where one ends and the next begins.
He collapses against me, both of us breathing hard. After a moment, he withdraws carefully and reaches up to remove the blindfold. The light makes me blink. His face comes into focus above me—flushed, eyes dark, hair disheveled.
"Perfect," he murmurs. "You're absolutely perfect."
Words won’t come. My mind has drifted somewhere soft and weightless, everything sharp and demanding stripped away. No board meetings. No Armand. No corporate warfare. Only Luc, anchoring me in the quiet he’s created.
He unties my ankles first, massaging circulation back into my feet and calves. Then my wrists, checking the skin where the rope was, making sure there's no damage. His arms wrap around me and pull me against his chest.
"Good girl," he murmurs into my hair. "You did so well."
I press my face against his chest, feel his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek. The rhythm pulls me back into my body, into this moment.
"Better?" he asks after a while.
"Yes." My voice is hoarse. "Much better."
"Tomorrow you walk in and remind them who you are. Your father's daughter. The CEO he chose to lead that company. NotArmand's niece." His hand strokes down my back. "They'll see your strength. And if they don't, you show them anyway."
"Henry has the evidence."
"Henry has numbers. You have something better. The truth. You've proven it already." He tilts my chin up, makes me look at him. "Armand's already lost. He's just too desperate to see it yet."
I want to believe him. Lying here in his arms, I almost do.
"What if the evidence isn't enough? What if he's already convinced them I'm—" I stop, can't quite finish the sentence.
"Convinced them you're what? Someone who has private consensual experiences?" His voice hardens slightly. "Let him try. You're not ashamed. That's what he doesn't understand."
He's right. But hearing it and believing it—those are two different things.
"I'm scared," I admit. "Not of losing the company. Of having to defend myself for something that should be private. Of having people look at me differently."
"Some will. Some won't. The ones who matter will see past it." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "You're not doing this alone. I'll be there as will Henry."
I've been fighting alone for so long. The idea of having allies—real ones, not just business relationships—feels like breathing room I didn't know I'd lost.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For this. For helping me find calm when I couldn't get there on my own."
His shoulder lifts slightly. "That's what I'm here for."
We lie in silence for a while. He continues stroking my back in slow, soothing patterns. My eyelids grow heavy, my body loose and spent.
"Sleep," he says quietly. "I'll wake you in time."
"What about you?"
