Page 42 of Hunted By Valentine

Ruby’s breath hitches, a slight tremor in her voice as she echoes, “Prove my point?”

“Exactly. Let’s say you were given a scenario—one that required you to navigate power, control, and submission. Would you be able to do it?”

Her eyes widen, and she bites down on her bottom lip. Undoubtedly, wrestling with her conditioning, the trauma that’s shaped her responses to men in power. I want to push her, to see how deep the cracks in her armor run.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Professor,” she says, her voice steady but laced with uncertainty.

“Let me clarify,” I say, my tone lowering to a whisper, drawing her in. “Imagine a situation where you have to choose between maintaining your dignity or submitting to authority. What would you choose?”

“I would never submit,” she says, the words rushing out with unexpected fervor.

“Wouldn’t you?” I counter, my breath mingling with hers, intoxicating and heavy. “We all have things that shape us. Things that have taught our bodies and minds to react in certain ways. A form of—”

“Conditioning,” she breathes. “We’re all conditioned to react in certain ways.”

I pat her head. “Exactly,” I say, my tone now warm. “Great answer.”

She beams up at me, her shoulders rolling back. But when her gaze meets mine, her smile turns into a scowl and she deflates. “Right.” A fleeting look of betrayal flicks across her features before she manages to school her expression.

“Let’s test that theory,” I rasp.

With a calculated move, I reach for her wrist, my fingers brushing against her skin—warm and soft. Her breath catches, and for a moment, I see the fear flicker in her eyes, but it’s mingled with something else—curiosity, or perhaps even desire.

“Let’s say you’re in a situation where you need to convince me of your strength. How would you do it?” I ask, maintaining eye contact, not breaking the spell.

Ruby opens her mouth as if to protest, but I tighten my grip just slightly, enough to send a spark of electricity between us.

“What if you had to demonstrate your confidence? Would you show me?” I probe.

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice trembling, a hint of defiance still present.

“Stand,” I command, my voice firm yet coaxing.

She hesitates but ultimately rises to her feet, facing me. I’m close enough to see the pulse at her throat, the way her skin flushes under my gaze. “Now, show me you’re not afraid,” I challenge.

With a rush of adrenaline, she crosses her arms and lifts her chin, but I see the vulnerability beneath her bravado. “I’m not afraid,” she insists, though the slight quaver in her voice tells me otherwise.

“Then prove it,” I say, stepping closer, invading her space once again. “Tell me what you want.”

“Stop playing games with me,” she shoots back. “I want to be taken seriously.”

“Then take a step further. Show me what that looks like,” I urge, leaning in, my breath brushing against her ear.

She takes a deep breath, her chest rising as she gathers her resolve. “I want you to understand that I’m not a victim,” she states, her eyes locked on mine.

“Then act like it,” I reply, challenging her once more.

In a bold move, she reaches out, her fingertips grazing my shirt collar as she pulls me in closer. “What do you want from me, Professor?”

The heat radiating between us, the tension escalating to a fever pitch. “I want to see how far you can go, Ruby. I want to uncover the layers of control and power that exist in every interaction.”

“Why?” she questions, her breath hitching as I take another step closer.

This is the question I was hoping she’d ask. “Because you said you want me,” I say, almost tauntingly. “Now it’s time to prove it.” My voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. Then I let go of her, and remove my suit jacket before leaning against the desk, never taking my eyes off of hers.

She swallows thickly. “Wh-what do you want me to do? How can I prove that I meant it?” she asks, and despite the stutter, she never averts her gaze.

“Unbutton my shirt,” I command softly, watching the way her eyes darkenat the order. “Show me with actions instead of words.”

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