The room still smelled like him.
Zara lay on her side, skin damp, muscles sore, chest rising and falling like she'd just run through a battlefield. And maybe she had—except her battlefield was silk sheets, his voice, his rules.
She stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the ache between her legs… and the ache deeper than that. One he had no right to touch. But somehow, he already owned.
> How did I end up here?
He hadn't let her finish. He'd fingered her until her legs shook, then left her panting, needy, begging without saying a word. And then he walked away.
No softness.
No kisses.
Just control.
He was dressed now. Buttoning his shirt like a man preparing for war—neat, effortless, powerful. The sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, veins flexing beneath smooth skin, the muscles taut like he could hold the world together—or tear it apart.
Zara didn't move.
> "You were louder than last time," he finally said, adjusting his cuffs.
"Guess I'll need to train that mouth better."
Her lips parted, but she stayed quiet. If she spoke, the truth would spill out—and she wasn't ready to admit how much she needed him.
> "Why do you do this?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"Punish me, use me… and then look at me like I mean something."
He turned to her, no smirk. Just cold fire in his eyes.
> "Because you're mine," he said simply.
"Even when I don't deserve you. Especially then."
She flinched.
His words didn't feel like affection. They felt like possession.
> "Get dressed," he added, walking to a drawer and pulling out a black velvet box. "We're going out."
Zara pushed herself up, wrapping the blanket around her naked body. "What's in the box?"
He opened it.
Inside, a sleek black leather collar, and beside it, a remote-controlled vibrator—small, discreet, menacing.
> "Your next lesson," he said.
"You'll wear both. For me."
Her breath caught. "In public?"
> "You'll look beautiful. Polished. Controlled."
He snapped the collar open.
"And only I'll know how ruined you really are."
He walked over, slipping the collar around her throat, fingers brushing her skin with the kind of intimacy that left marks deeper than bruises. He didn't kiss her. He didn't ask.
The collar clicked shut. Aiden leaned in close, lips brushing her ear.
> "You like being owned," he whispered.
"And if you say otherwise, you're lying."
She trembled.
Because he was right.
---
Later That Night…
The house was glowing—crystal chandeliers, polished marble, the soft hum of luxury and power woven into every inch.
Zara walked beside Aiden, her steps measured, perfect.
But her body?
Buzzing.
The vibrator inside her was alive. Slow pulses. Deep vibrations. It was maddening. Every step was a test. Every glance was a challenge.
She looked stunning—his words, not hers. Black silk that clung to her like temptation. Lips painted the same shade as sin. The collar hidden beneath her choker. The remote? Tucked inside his pocket.
She was his puppet tonight. And he? The cruel puppeteer.
> "Try not to embarrass yourself," he said as they descended the stairs.
Her spine straightened, chin lifting. "I won't."
> "That wasn't a warning," he said, brushing his fingers down her arm.
"It was a dare."
She was about to respond when she saw her.
Tall. Red lips. Designer heels. Blonde hair swept into a perfect knot.
> "Zara," Aiden said casually, "this is Camille. My ex."
Zara froze.
Camille's eyes sparkled with mischief as she extended a hand. "So this is the new toy?"
> "I'm not a toy," Zara said coolly, shaking her hand.
> "Oh," Camille purred. "Of course not. You're just wearing his collar."
Aiden said nothing.
Her cheeks flushed hot. Zara tried to compose herself, but Camille's smirk deepened.
> "He told me you were… spirited," Camille added, sipping champagne.
"Said he's still breaking you in."
Zara's jaw clenched.
Click.
The vibrator surged to life.
Zara gasped softly, her legs locking together instinctively.
> "Zara?" Camille asked sweetly. "You okay?"
Zara gritted her teeth. "Peachy."
Aiden was watching her.
His fingers were still in his pocket, resting on the remote like a predator holding a leash.
> "She's still learning," he said smoothly.
"But I like a challenge."
Zara swallowed hard, trying to breathe through the waves rolling inside her.
> "Do you enjoy humiliating me?" she whispered when Camille turned to greet another guest.
> "No," Aiden said, leaning close.
"I enjoy reminding you who you belong to."
She hated him.
She wanted him.
And she would burn before she begged.
But the vibrator kept pulsing.
And her control?
It was slipping.
---