Submission Isn't Weakness

I woke with his scent still clinging to my skin.

Not cologne—no, Caelum wasn’t that cliché. It was something colder, sharper. Power wrapped in restraint. The memory of his mouth between my legs and the unbearable ache he left behind simmered under my skin like a bruise I couldn’t stop pressing.

I’d begged.

He hadn’t relented.

I hated him for it. And I wanted him more than I wanted air.

When I stepped into the hallway that morning, I felt different—like something had shifted in me. Like my body didn’t fully belong to me anymore. He hadn’t taken me, but he had claimed me.

That was the difference with a man like Caelum. He didn’t need to fuck you to own you.

Eda handed me my cleaning assignments like nothing had changed.

The ballroom. The hallway mirrors. Fresh flowers in the drawing room.

I barely heard her.

He was somewhere inside this house, sipping coffee, maybe reading the paper with that same calm detachment—and I couldn’t stop picturing him watching me come apart again. Silent. Smirking. Unmoved.

When I entered the drawing room, he was already there.

Leaning back in a leather armchair. Shirt open at the collar. One long leg crossed over the other.

He didn’t speak.

Just watched me walk in with a vase of lilies and a trembling hand.

“Put it down,” he said softly.

I placed the flowers on the table. My pulse pounded in my ears.

“Now bend over the table.”

I froze. The room was full of sunlight. The curtains were wide open. Anyone could walk past.

His voice didn’t rise. “Ardyn.”

I obeyed.

My palms touched the cold mahogany surface, and I bent forward slowly, face hot, heart hammering. My dress lifted with the motion, exposing my thighs.

“You’re not wearing panties.” He sounded pleased. “Good girl.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

His fingers trailed up the back of my thigh, slow, lazy, knowing.

“You want to be touched again, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” My voice broke.

“I bet your cunt is already wet.”

It was. It always was around him.

“I could take you here,” he murmured, voice like silk sliding across skin. “Stuff my cock inside you and make you come with the windows wide open. Let the whole estate hear the noises you make when I break you.”

I moaned softly, humiliated by how much I wanted that.

But of course—he didn’t.

He stepped away again. Just like before.

I straightened, dizzy with need and shame.

He smirked. “You’ll earn it when you’re ready. Not before.”

That night, I tossed in my bed, burning with frustration. The space between my legs throbbed with emptiness. I tried not to touch myself, but I was crawling with need, desperate for any release.

I slipped a hand under the blanket.

The door creaked open.

I froze.

“Don’t stop.”

His voice—dark and calm.

Caelum stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

My breath caught.

“Touch yourself. Right here. In front of me.”

I swallowed hard, trembling. “You said—”

“I’m allowing it. This once.”

I obeyed, hand sliding between my thighs.

His eyes darkened as I rubbed slow circles, slick and shamefully wet, my legs spread open for him.

“You’ve wanted this all day, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

“You wanted me to fuck you over the table.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you’ll come. But only when I say.”

He stepped closer, standing over me. His hand didn’t touch me—but his words did.

“Faster.”

My fingers moved in frantic circles.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

“So close—”

“Don’t come yet.”

I whimpered.

He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re mine, Ardyn. Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Good girl. Now come.”

I shattered.

It wasn’t just an orgasm—it was a flood. A breaking. A surrender.

I moaned his name, body arching, thighs clenching.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

The next morning, I wore the dress he’d left out for me.

Short. Tight. No underwear.

I served brunch to his guests with flushed cheeks and trembling hands, knowing he could see everything.

And loving the way he didn’t hide his amusement.

Every time he spoke, I felt it between my legs. Every time his fingers brushed mine, my skin lit up.

He owned me now. And worse?

I was starting to want that more than anything else.