Chapter Twenty-Four: The Surrender

Her breath lodged in her throat.

The shadows gave way as her eyes adjusted, and suddenly the figure standing just beyond the golden lamplight stepped forward.

Liam.

But not the Liam she had seen in tailored suits, commanding boardrooms, or stealing whispers on glittering balconies. This was Liam stripped bare of his armor, every inch of him unapologetically male, sculpted to perfection, a dangerous temptation made flesh.

Her gaze dragged down his body against her will. Broad shoulders that seemed built to carry empires. A chest carved in hard planes, smooth skin gleaming faintly in the low light. Each ridge of muscle caught her like a trap, defined abs stacked like bricks of sin, narrowing to that impossibly deep V that disappeared beneath the waistband of the only thing he wore.

A single, black brief.

The fabric clung indecently to him, leaving nothing to the imagination. The outline was so bold, so brazen, she felt heat rise to her cheeks. Her mouth went dry, yet her body pulsed with a hunger she couldn’t deny.

Her heart hammered. Oh God. I shouldn’t be seeing this.

But she couldn’t look away.

Every drop of blood in her body seemed to surge south, her thighs pressing together as she tried and failed to control herself. Memories of the OR table returned with merciless clarity: the feel of his hands pinning her down, his tongue branding her, the way he had taken control until she forgot her own name.

And here he was now. More dangerous than ever.

He tilted his head, a slow, predatory smile curving his mouth. “Curious little doctor,” he murmured, voice low and rough, like velvet dragged over stone.

Sarah swallowed hard, unable to move, unable to speak. The air between them crackled with a forbidden energy, thick with everything unsaid, everything undone.

Her body screamed to run. Her soul screamed to stay.

And then he stepped closer. Just one step, but it was enough for the tension to snap like lightning inside her.

Her knees nearly buckled.

The door behind her was gone, the world outside forgotten.

All that existed was Liam.

And he was almost naked.

Sarah’s pulse thundered in her ears as Liam’s smile darkened into something almost feral. Without a word he turned, the low light sliding across the hard planes of his back, and walked toward the chair she had noticed earlier, the one with dark leather and polished steel buckles built into the arms and legs.

He lowered himself into it with slow, deliberate grace. The black brief clung to him as he sat, every line of his thighs taut with restrained power. His eyes never left hers.

Then, to her shock, he reached down and fastened the leather straps around his own ankles, one, then the other, the sound of each buckle clicking echoing through the room.

Sarah’s breath caught. He’s… restraining himself?

Liam lifted his arms next, sliding the straps through the polished loops at the chair’s arms and pulling them tight across his wrists. With a final click, the last buckle locked. He leaned back, muscles flexing under his skin, a god chained by his own will.

His voice was a low, velvet growl.

“Sarah…” His eyes burned like dark fire, “I am all yours. Do whatever you want to me.”

The words slammed into her like a physical touch.

Heat rushed through her body, shame, desire, power, and disbelief colliding all at once. Yesterday she had been the one strapped down under his command. Now he was offering himself up to her.

Her knees felt weak. What is he doing? Why does this make me feel… like this?

Liam tilted his head back against the leather, exposing the long line of his throat. “Show me,” he whispered, “how it feels to have me at your mercy.”

Sarah’s fingers twitched, torn between running and reaching out. She had never seen him like this, beautiful, dangerous, completely vulnerable.

Her hands trembled as she lifted them, hovering in the air, afraid to touch him, desperate to touch him. Heat surged through her, shame warring with hunger.

God, what’s wrong with me? she thought. Why does this make me feel alive?

Her gaze raked over him, the muscles shifting under taut skin, the black brief stretched indecently, his thighs parted just enough to make her legs clench in reflex. He was power incarnate, yet bound, willingly shackled for her.

Sarah’s lips parted on a shaky breath. She hated how her body betrayed her, how much she wanted him, how the sight of him undone like this filled her with a dangerous, intoxicating thrill.

Liam’s eyes locked on hers, dark and endless, his voice a vow.

“Tonight, there are no rules between us. Only what you want.”

The words wrapped around her like silk, pulling her closer. Her pulse screamed in her veins as her fingers finally brushed his chest, hot, solid, alive.

He exhaled sharply at her touch, a sound so raw it shot straight through her.

Sarah’s entire body trembled. She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She wanted to tear herself apart for feeling this way and at the same time, she wanted to devour him.

Her lips hovered inches above his skin, her breath mingling with his.

And then she realized, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

She was hungry.