"Safe word?"
"Crimson. Same as always."
He moved around the chair, his hands steady as he secured my wrists and ankles. The leather was cool against my skin, the pressure familiar in a way that should have been terrifying but instead felt like home. When the blindfold settled over my eyes, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"Tell me what you need," he said.
"Intensity. I need to stop thinking. I need to feel something real."
"That's not what I asked." His fingers brushed my temple, feather-light. "What do youneed, Bunny? Beneath the performance. Beneath the conditioning. What is it you're actually looking for?"
The question hit somewhere deep—deeper than I wanted to acknowledge. I'd been playing roles for so long that I'd forgotten how to separate the performance from the reality. Gabriel's perfect girl. Nathan's broken doll. The predator. The prey. The weapon. The victim.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know who I am underneath all of this."
"Then let's find out."
The vibrator came to life with a soft hum, and I felt him press it against my inner thigh—not where I needed it, not yet, just close enough to make my muscles tense with anticipation. His other hand found my throat, not squeezing, just resting there like a promise or a threat.
"I'm going to ask you questions," he said. "And you're going to answer them. Honestly. Not the answers Nathan programmed into you. Not the answers you think I want to hear. The truth."
"And if I don't know the truth?"
"Then we'll find it together." The vibrator moved higher, still not touching where I needed it. "First question: what did Nathan tell you about me?"
"That you were a monster." The words came out breathless. "That you broke me for sport. That you were going to sell me to the highest bidder."
"Lie or truth?"
"I don't know anymore."
The vibrator pressed against my clit, and I gasped. The sensation was electric, overwhelming, exactly what I'd asked for. He held it there for three heartbeats, then pulled it away.
"Second question: what do you believe now?"
"I believe—" I struggled to form words as the vibrator returned, this time lower, teasing. "I believe you broke me. But I also believe you loved me. In your way. A twisted way."
"Lie or truth?"
"Truth. I think." The vibrator pressed harder, and my hips bucked against the restraints. "Please—"
"Not yet. Third question: why did you come back here, knowing what I am? Knowing what I did to you?"
The question cut through the haze of arousal. I'd been asking myself the same thing for days, and I still didn't have a clean answer. "Because you're the only one who's never lied to me about what you are. Because Nathan pretended to save me and you never did. Because—" The vibrator found my clit again, and the words dissolvedinto a moan.
"Because?"
"Because I need to understand. Need to know what really happened. Need to know if any of this is real or if I'm just... just a construct. Just programming wrapped in skin."
The vibrator stopped. Gabriel's hand left my throat. I heard him move around the chair, heard the soft sound of him kneeling beside me.
"You're not a construct," he said quietly. "You're the most real person I've ever known. That's why I fell in love with you. Not because you were perfect—because you were real. Because you fought back. Because you never stopped fighting."
"Then tell me the truth. All of it. Not just about Nathan—about you. About your family. About everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything."
