Chapter 2 The Morning After His Rules

Chapter 2

I couldn't move.

My body ached in places I didn't know could ache. My thighs trembled, sore from where he had gripped them, held them open like they were his to spread. My lips were chapped, bitten. My neck still tingled where his teeth had marked me.

But none of that compared to the heat between my legs.

Or the burning shame crawling up my spine.

I had slept with my best friend's father.

Correction-I had been ruined by him.

Used.

Marked.

Claimed.

And now, as sunlight slipped through the tall windows of Dante Wolfe's penthouse guest room, I stared at the ceiling in stunned silence, still naked under his thick black sheets.

My panties were nowhere to be found.

My phone had seventeen missed calls.

All from Harper.

Her.

His daughter.

My best friend since freshman year.

The girl who had invited me to spend the weekend at her father's mansion, thinking it would be a harmless escape from dorm life and exams.

If only she knew what happened three floors below her last night.

I sat up slowly, the soreness between my legs making me wince. The scent of him clung to my skin-clean, masculine, dominant.

There was a glass of water on the nightstand. A folded note beneath it.

My name written in thick, sharp black ink.

Ava.

Shower. Eat. Be dressed in black before 10 AM. Come downstairs. Sit silently at my right. Obey.

– D.W.

I stared at it, heart hammering, lips parted.

Shower.

Eat.

Dress.

Obey.

Just like that. No apology. No affection. No regret.

And I hated how badly that thrilled me.

Thirty minutes later, I stood in front of a floor-length mirror, wrapped in a towel. A black dress hung on the bed-a sleek, tight bodycon that screamed "owned." There were heels. Panties. Even a fresh bra that somehow fit perfectly.

He'd had it all planned.

He knew.

He'd wanted this.

Or maybe... he'd always known I wanted it too.

I stepped into the dress, ignoring the way my thighs still trembled, and brushed out my damp hair.

When I walked into the dining room, the first thing I saw was him.

Dante Wolfe, in a charcoal-gray suit, standing by the window, speaking on the phone in that low, commanding tone that made men say yes and women drop their panties.

He turned slightly when I entered, eyes grazing me head to toe.

His voice didn't pause. But the heat in his stare was unmistakable.

He ended the call with one word: "Done."

Then he turned to me fully.

"Sit."

I sat in the chair beside his. He didn't look at me again, didn't greet me. Just lifted his cup and drank his black coffee while reading something on his tablet.

I sat stiff, nervous, eyes flickering to the empty seat opposite me.

Harper's seat.

I swallowed thickly.

"She's at yoga," he said without looking up.

I flinched.

"She won't be back for two hours," he added. "That gives us time to talk about what happened last night."

My heart stopped.

My breath hitched.

He set his tablet down and finally looked at me.

The weight of his gaze pinned me in place.

"I gave you a chance to leave," he said. "You stayed."

"I know."

"I asked what you wanted. You answered."

"I know."

He leaned forward slightly, voice lowering.

"And now I need to know-was it just curiosity for you, Ava? A one-night rebellion? Or are you ready to obey me?"

My lips parted. "Obey you?"

"Yes. Not just in bed. Not just when you're wet and desperate. I mean fully. Obedience. No secrets. No lies. You are mine now. But only if you accept it."

I stared at him. He didn't blink.

"You don't do relationships," I whispered. "That's what Harper always says."

"I don't." He leaned closer. "But this isn't a relationship. It's ownership."

My thighs clenched instinctively.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Good."

His hand slid across the table, fingers grazing mine. "Fear keeps you sharp. Lust keeps you obedient."

"What happens now?" I asked.

He smiled.

It wasn't kind.

"There are rules."

Of course there were.

"Rule number one," he said, his voice firm, deep. "You don't come unless I give permission."

My mouth dropped open.

"Number two. You never lie to me. Ever."

I nodded, heart pounding.

"Three. If I call, you answer. If I say strip, you strip. If I tell you to kneel, you get on your fucking knees."

I swallowed hard.

"And rule four?" I asked shakily.

His voice dropped lower. "You do not touch another man. Ever. Even in your thoughts. You belong to me now, Ava. And if you break my rules... I will break you."

I felt the heat rush down my spine, pooling between my thighs all over again.

He stood suddenly and walked around the table. Before I could breathe, he was behind me, his hands sliding into my hair, pulling gently but firmly until my head tilted back to look up at him.

"You're not my girlfriend," he said. "You're my secret."

"Okay."

"My obsession."

"Yes."

"My fucktoy."

The word made me moan.

"Say it."

"I'm your fucktoy," I whispered.

He smiled like a man who had just won a war.

"Good girl."

Then he kissed me.

Hard. Possessive. Like he needed to remind me that my body belonged to him-even here, at his breakfast table, with Harper possibly walking in any second.

He pulled back and whispered against my lips, "Clean up. Pack a bag. You'll be staying here tonight. And the night after. And every night until I say otherwise."

"Harper will notice."

"She won't."

"What if she-?"

He cut me off with a finger to my lips.

"Obey me, Ava. That's all you need to do now."

I nodded.

And just like that, my fate was sealed.

Hours later, I stood in front of his room again.

This time, I didn't hesitate.

I entered without knocking, fully dressed, lips painted, pulse racing.

He was on the balcony, smoking a cigar, shirtless, his chest hard and scarred with a single burn over his left pec-just above the heart.

He looked at me.

Said nothing.

I stepped inside and dropped my bag. Slowly, I unzipped my dress and let it fall.

I wore nothing underneath.

He watched me like I was a piece of art.

Then he said, "Get on the bed. All fours. Head down."

My knees wobbled, but I obeyed.

The sheets were cold against my skin.

Then I felt the warmth of him behind me.

He slid a hand between my legs.

"So wet again already," he murmured. "You're addicted."

"No," I whispered.

He spanked me once, hard. "Liar."

I moaned.

He leaned over me, pressing the head of his cock against my entrance, not entering yet-just teasing, letting the fear and anticipation burn through my spine.

"I'm going to fuck you until you scream," he promised. "Then I'm going to do it again. And again. Until your voice is mine. Your body is mine. Your soul..."

He pushed in slowly, deliciously.

"...is already mine."