Page 40 of Take Me Darkly

Disappointment.

My stomach dropped. “What’s wrong?”

“The dress.” His voice was pure, uncompromising granite. “I gave you lingerie, Serena.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “I’m wearing it underneath.”

“That’s not what I intended.” He closed the distance between us in two long strides, towering over me. “This is Club O. You don’t hide your body here.”

“I thought⁠—”

“No, you didn’t.” His fingers cupped my chin, his grip firm and possessive. “When I select something for you to wear, I expect you to wear it. Nothing else.”

My breath hitched at the absolute authority in his tone.

Releasing my chin, he walked into the bedroom, reached into the designer box, and pulled out a sheer, floor-length black silk robe. Delicate floral embroidery traced the hemlines, and a thin silk tie hung at the waist. It was utterly transparent—designed to conceal nothing.

“If you insist on an outer layer,” Anton said, his eyes burning into mine, “you wear this. Understood?”

I swallowed hard. “I understand.”

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand, Anton.”

“Good.” He held out the silk garment. “Take off the dress.”

My hands trembled as I pulled the dress from my shoulders. His gaze never left me as I let it pool in a whisper at my feet. The lingerie he’d chosen clung to my body, leaving very little to the imagination. I stood there, exposed under his scrutiny, feeling the weight of his assessment.

I turned toward the full-length mirror. I looked like a fantasy—a man’s absolute possession.

Anton stepped behind me, his broad hands settling on my hips through the thin silk. His heat branded me. In the reflection, his dark, commanding eyes held mine.

“This is how you appear for me tonight,” he murmured against my ear, his tone absolute. “Unapologetic, breathtaking, and entirely mine. I never want you to hide who and what you are.”

My pulse hammered in my throat. “What if people stare?”

“I’ve secured total privacy for us tonight,” he whispered, his lips grazing my jaw, his hands tightening on my waist. “But when the time comes that they do look, you will let them. Because they will know exactly who you belong to.”

A month ago, that possessiveness would have terrified me. Tonight, the energy between us was different. His unyielding claim sent a thick rush of desire pooling between my thighs.

“Okay,” I breathed.

“Good girl.” His teeth grazed my earlobe, sending a violent shiver down my spine. “Now the robe.”

I took it from him, slipping my arms through the sleeves. The soft material settled around me, simultaneously concealing and revealing.

As he led me toward the door, toward whatever waited in the Obsidian Room, I felt something shift inside me. The grief was still there, as was the fear. But underneath it all, pushing through like spring flowers through winter snow, was something else—something foreign yet familiar in ways only Anton had the ability to make me feel.

It was a feeling I yearned for whenever I was with him—that feeling of complete and utterly shameless surrender.

Chapter Thirteen

Anton

* * *

The Obsidian Room lived up to its name.