Page 35 of The Chains that Bind
He ignores my demand, his arm a steel band across the backs of my thighs as he strides purposefully back toward the house. My hands press against his back, feeling the muscles bunch and flex with each powerful step. I should be fighting harder, should be outraged at this caveman display.
Instead, I'm fighting a very different response—the liquid heat spreading through me at being so completely overpowered, so thoroughly claimed.
Staff members wisely make themselves scarce as Knox carries me up the stairs and down the hallway to the master suite. The door closes behind us with a decisive click before he finally sets me on my feet, his hands gripping my shoulders to steady me.
"You had your chance," he says, his voice controlled despite the fire in his eyes. "Remember that what happens next is your choice, not mine."
"Nothing about this is my choice," I counter, but the breathlessness in my voice undermines my defiance. "You've orchestrated everything from the moment you crashed my wedding."
"And yet here you are, deliberately pushing me to follow through on a threat you claim to find objectionable." His hands slide down my arms to capture my wrists. "Tell me to stop, Seraphina. Tell me you don't want to discover exactly how far I'll go to keep you safe. Mean it, and I'll release you right now."
The challenge hangs between us, his eyes locked on mine, searching for the truth beneath my defiance. And the truth is, I can't say it. Can't tell him to stop. Can't pretend I don't want toknow precisely what it means to be completely at Knox Vance's mercy.
My silence is answer enough. With a nod that's equal parts acknowledgment and acceptance, he guides me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed. One firm push and I'm sitting, looking up at him as he towers over me.
"Last chance," he offers, his thumbs tracing circles on the sensitive skin of my inner wrists.
Still, I say nothing. Can't bring myself to either explicitly consent to or reject what's coming. Some part of me needs him to make this choice for me, needs to believe I have no choice in what happens next.
Knox understands this about me—has always understood the contradiction at the heart of my nature. My need for independence warring with my desire to surrender control to someone strong enough to handle it.
"Lie down," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Arms above your head."
A shiver runs through me as I comply, stretching out on the bed, raising my arms as instructed. From a drawer in the bedside table, Knox retrieves items I can't see from my position. Only when he returns to the bed do I realize what they are—black silk ties, elegant and expensive, like everything else he owns.
"These won't hurt you," he explains, threading one around my left wrist, securing it to the elaborately carved headboard with knots that look both intricate and very effective. "But they will hold you exactly where I want you."
My breath catches as he repeats the process with my right wrist, testing the bonds to ensure they're secure without cutting off circulation. The silk is cool and smooth against my skin, the restraint both undeniable and somehow luxurious.
"Is this what you wanted?" Knox asks, looking down at me spread across his bed, completely at his mercy. "To understandexactly how far I'll go to keep you safe? To see if there are limits to my control?"
My heart pounds against my ribs, a combination of vulnerability and forbidden excitement making it hard to breathe. "Yes," I admit finally, the truth pulled from me by the intensity of the moment.
He sits beside me on the bed, one hand coming to rest possessively on my stomach where our child grows. "I meant what I said yesterday. I will do whatever it takes to protect you and our baby. If that means keeping you restrained until you understand that your safety is non-negotiable, so be it."
"For how long?" I ask, testing the bonds with a gentle tug. They hold firm, exactly as I knew they would.
"As long as necessary," he answers, his hand sliding up from my stomach to cup my breast through my thin t-shirt. "Hours. Days. However long it takes for you to accept that this isn't a game, Seraphina. That your life—and our child's—are too precious for your reckless defiance."
I should be terrified. Should be outraged. Instead, a moan escapes me as his thumb brushes across my nipple, my body arching into his touch despite my restraints.
"That's it," he murmurs, satisfaction evident in his voice as he reads my response. "Let go of the resistance. Accept what we both know is true."
"And what's that?" I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
His smile is slow, knowing, victorious. "That you need this as much as I do. The control. The submission. The certainty of knowing exactly where you belong."
He bends to claim my mouth in a kiss that's both punishment and reward, his body half-covering mine in a demonstration of dominance that leaves no room for doubt. And despite everything—despite my claims of independence, despite myoutrage at his controlling nature, despite all my protests about autonomy and freedom—I surrender to it completely.
Because he's right. This is exactly what I needed. What I provoked him into giving me. What I've been running from since the day I walked out of his penthouse eighteen months ago.
The knowledge both terrifies and liberates me.
Chapter Twenty
Knox
She wearsexhaustion like a delicate veil, her normally vibrant features softened by sleep as I watch her from the doorway of the bedroom. Three days since her deliberate test of my boundaries, three days of keeping her restrained for increasingly shorter periods, three days of breaking through her resistance one layer at a time. Not through force or fear, but through pleasure, through demonstrating exactly how beautiful surrender can be when given to the right person. Now she sleeps peacefully in our bed, marks from the silk ties still faintly visible on her wrists—badges of honor rather than symbols of captivity. She pushed me to prove how far I'd go to keep her safe, and I obliged. Now it's time for the next phase of reclaiming what's mine, of building the future we both need even if she's not ready to admit it yet. Time to take her home—my home, our home—and show her that I can give her both security and the freedom she craves.
