Page 5 of All's Fair In Love & War

She slid her hands up my chest, slow and deliberate, the silk of her voice curling around my restraint. “So, now is the time to be real with me. You don’t have to pretend. Just admit you want a warm body to use whenever your dick twitches, and we might can come to an agreement that suits the both of us.”

Then she giggled—giggled—and pressed her lips to mine.

“One of those stipulations is that if I have to be your live-in sex toy, I get to walk around in nothing but this goddamn necklace. Would that turn you on, big boy?”

To hear her say that shit was like getting punched in the face with brass knuckles because pussy was never something I lacked, and never something I had to chase. It found me, waited for me, and showed up gift-wrapped in lace and lip gloss with no demands attached. So, for her to stand there, acting like what she had between her legs was a prize I couldn’t resist, that shit was laughable. Insulting, even.

I could tell by her expression that she thought she had me figured out. Felicity assumed I was like those weak men who let pretty faces and tight bodies dictate their moves, but she was dead wrong. If I wanted a body, I had options, hundreds of them. What I wanted in a wifeand marriagewas something real. Something that couldn’t be broken every time emotions ran high or sex got weaponized. Even if it was arranged, I still intended to do it right, but clearly, she wasn’t ready to be treated with respect. It didn’t matter because one way or another, she was gonna learn who the fuck she was dealing with.

Without a word, I turned and walked to the console table behind the couch. Each step was measured, deliberate, and loud enough for her to hear, but not enough to make her flinch, and I didn’t rush because I wanted her to wonder.

My hand curled around the drawer pull, the soft click echoing louder than it should have in the quiet room. I calmly slid it open, and my fingers found exactly what I’d hidden there, tucked beneath folded cloth and untouched paperwork. After pulling it out, I closed the drawer slowly, letting the final thud punctuate the silence between us before I turned around.

Felicity was still standing where I left her. Her arms were crossed, her lips were pursed, and she was utterly clueless as to what was about to happen next. Before she caught on to me, Ilunged, fastened a clasp at the base of her throat, and yanked. Her lips parted, but the surprise had stolen whatever smart remark she was about to make. She reached out instinctively, her palm landing flat against my chest to steady herself.

"You wanna play games, baby?" I asked, my voice calm and veiled with threat. "That’s fine. Just make sure you know who the fuck invented them."

Without another word, I turned around and started walking, the attached leash dragging her behind me. She tripped once, not used to this sort of control, but I kept going, not bothering to give her a second glance. Seeing I wasn’t stopping, she straightened and quickly matched my stride with the stubborn pride of someone who refused, under any circumstances, to look like a victim.

My primary objective this evening was to grab her attention, but not by startling or embarrassing her. She'd endured plenty of that already. I aimed to pierce through the facade so she could glimpse the genuineness of my actions. Yet, the only effective approach to reach a girl like Felicity Veneto was through directness and sheer force. She didn't seem to respond well to kindness.

Felicity didn’t trust softness, especially not when it came from me. To her, my kindness had to be manipulation, and anything that felt good came with a hidden price tag. So I adjusted my approach, not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. If I wanted her to listen, to really hear me, I had to speak a language she understood.

Power. Control. Command.

I never wanted to dominate her. Not completely. All I wanted was balance. However, she needed to know that I could match her blow for blow, meet her fire with my own, and still make space for whatever softness she didn’t believe in yet. Because beneath all that heat, all that attitude, was awoman who had never been protected without strings attached. A woman who had never been claimed without being owned.

Yet, tonight, I wouldn’t strive to own her.

Felicity needed to experience total domination.

As we moved, I could feel her glare between my shoulder blades. It burned like a branding iron on bare skin. She stalled again as I guided her past the coffee table, the heels of her feet digging lightly into the rug, just enough to signal defiance.

I didn’t say a word. Instead, I wrapped the chain twice around my hand and yanked. Not rough enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind her who was in control.

Her body lurched forward with an unexpected gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. One hand shot up instinctively to steady herself against my back. I felt the subtle tremor in her fingers as they made contact with my spine. It was a fleeting shiver that seemed to echo her momentary shock.

“Keep up,” I said, my tone even, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction.

She huffed, straightening immediately, shoulders squared like she hadn’t just nearly lost her balance, but she didn’t fight me, at least not out loud. Instead, she let me lead her past the spread laid out across the table, and I didn’t miss the way she avoided looking at any of it. Her attention was fixed ahead, chin high, curls bouncing against her bare shoulders.

I felt the heat coming off her and saw the way her thighs pressed together when she moved. She attempted to disregard it, to refuse to acknowledge that the pressure, the control, and the restraint she couldn't shake off made her body respond before her pride had a chance to intervene.

“Right now, there’s something we need to get straight,” I said, moving us further along. “You might not like me, but you will respect me. Now keep up, and don’t make me yank that chain again.”

She didn’t answer, but the color in her cheeks deepened, and the way her breath hitched again told me everything I needed to know.

Felicity wanted to be dominated, but her defiance wouldn’t allow her to let go.

She hated that her body liked this.

And I loved that she hated it.

As we arrived at the center of the room, I halted my steps, but Felicity continued onward, shoulder brushing against mine with an unmistakable intention. Afterward, she attempted to swerve to the side out of my way, but I didn’t let her.

One sharp yank of the chain, and she gasped, stumbling back into place behind me, one hand flying to her throat. There wasn’t pain in her eyes, not even fear. It was something else entirely. The flush that spread over her cheeks wasn’t from anger. It was all heat, baby. She knew it, and I knew it too.

"What did I say?" I murmured, not turning around, my tone even but thick with warning. “You think this shit is a game? The nerve of you to walk in here dressed like a hoe, thinking you were calling shots. Nah.” I scoffed, shaking my head at her ignorance. “You fucked with the wrong one tonight.”

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