My Body, His Game

Chapter Two: My Body, His Game

(Rated 18)

The morning sun slipped past the house blackout curtains in thin golden slits, dust motes dancing lazily in the glow. Serena woke up wrapped in fine silk sheets, her body sore and humming with the memory of the night before. She turned her head slowly and there he was Lucian, shirtless, leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window like sin in human form. One hand held a crystal glass of something dark and expensive. The other was tucked in his pocket.

“You’re awake.” His voice was smooth but cool, like smoke rolling over ice.

I blinked, momentarily disoriented, trying to place myself. “What time is it?”

“Time doesn’t matter here.”

I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. My body ached in all the right places. I could still feel his mouth, the press of his fingers, the bruising rhythm of his possession. But with morning came clarity and questions.

“I should go,” I murmured.

He didn’t move. Just watched me with eyes too dark to be anything but dangerous. “You think it’s over?”

I frowned. “It was a one-night contract. Right.”

Lucian walked toward me with slow, deliberate steps. He placed the glass down on the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. He retrieved a crisp folder and tossed it onto the bed.

“Read the fine print.”

With shaking hands, I opened the folder. My heart sank. Beneath the bold letters of the offer was a page I hadn’t fully read last night. Subsection 8: Participant agrees to a thirty-day term of engagement unless otherwise released by the Dominant.

I looked up, fury blooming in my chest. “You tricked me.”

“I didn't, you stole the invitation, wore a mask which wasn't yours and you didn't say anything when I bought you. You were eager to sign. Didn’t even read it.” He leaned closer, his voice a growl against her ear. “You begged me with your eyes,Serena.”

My spine stiffened. “Let me go.”

“I’m not keeping you against your will,” he said, backing off. “You can leave. But not now. You’ll stay, and by the end, you’ll crawl and beg to stay longer.”

My pulse thudded in my throat. “You’re arrogant.”

“No,” he said simply. “I’m right.”

I swung my legs out of bed and stood, trying to keep my knees from buckling under the weight of his gaze. Lucian moved to block my path. Not touching. Just standing there like a locked gate.

“I won’t stay,” I hissed.

His smile was slow and devastating. “That’s what they all say.”

He reached out not to grab me, but to brush a knuckle under my chin. “This isn’t just about sex, Serena. It’s about surrender. You gave me your body last night. You’ll give me your soul before this is over.”

I slapped his hand away. “I don’t belong to you.”

“Not yet.”

The tension between us grew sharp. I stormed past him, naked but uncaring, hunting for my clothes. They were nowhere to be found. My red dress from the club, my heels, even my purse, gone.

“You can scream,” Lucian said from behind her. “You can fight. Or you can accept the rules.”

I spun around. “Tell me what you want, then.”

Lucian stepped into the space between us again, this time with no intention of retreating. “I want everything. Your obedience. Your pleasure. Your limits. I want to break the parts of you you’ve hidden from the world and remake them in my name.”

I stared up at him. “You want to own me.”

“No,” he said softly. “I want you to want to be owned.”

I laughed, a brittle, disbelieving sound. “That’ll never happen.”

His hand found my jaw, not harsh, but commanding. “It has already started. Last night, when you moaned my name. When you begged for more.”

I trembled but didn’t back down. “You’re a monster.”

He smiled again, slower this time. “You’ll like it here in Hell.”

He stepped back and motioned toward the luxurious suite. “There’s a closet. Clothes in your size. Jewelry. Shoes. If you’re staying, you’ll dress accordingly.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll stay naked. Your choice.”

I held his gaze, jaw tight. “This is a game to you.”

Lucian’s eyes darkened. “No. This is war. And you’ve already lost the first battle.”

The door clicked behind him as he walked out, leaving me alone, breathless, and burning with fury I didn’t fully understand.

I Told myself I hated him. Told myself that I would find a way out.

But as I opened the closet and saw the rows of silk and lace, the softest leather, and lingerie that whispered surrender, a part of me, the dark part, was too already leaning in.

I stood in front of the massive walk-in closet, staring at a world that didn’t belong to her. Silk gowns shimmered on gold hangers, designer labels stitched into every seam. There were diamonds, rubies, sapphires,each necklace resting in velvet boxes like promises she never thought she'd hear whispered in her direction. It was too much. Too beautiful. Too tempting.

This wasn’t my life. And yet, I couldn’t look away.

Last night I’d been a stranger in a glittering club, being auctioned like a product, but I stood there hoping to be free after one night. Now, I was thirty days deep into a game I didn’t understand, being toyed with by a man who made danger look like seduction.

Lucian Devlin had purchased my time. My body. Maybe even more. He'd told me so with his eyes locked on mine and his voice heavy with certainty: You’ll crawl before you leave me.

I gripped the edge of the closet doorway, knuckles white.

No. I couldn’t give in. I wouldn’t.

I turned from the glittering closet and crossed the suite barefoot, heart thundering in my chest. My eyes darted around for anything that belonged to me, my phone, my purse, but it was all gone. Even my dress from the night before had vanished like smoke.

Still, I made for the door. My fingers hovered over the keypad lock, heart pounding. I keyed in random combinations, nothing worked. The door wouldn’t budge. A sleek black panel blinked at me, unyielding.

“I wouldn’t bother,” came Lucian’s voice, cool and calm.

I spun around. He stood in the shadows of the hallway, dressed in black slacks and a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Calm. Dangerous. Beautiful.

“I’m not your prisoner,” I snapped.

“No,” he said, approaching slowly. “But the world out there is colder than my hands. And you know it.”

“I want to go,” I said, chin high.

He nodded once. “Then go.”

I blinked.

“Take the service elevator. No guards. No threats. No locked doors.”

My chest rose and fell. “That easy?”

Lucian smiled faintly. “You’ll be back.”

I left.

The wind outside hit like a slap. I wasn’t dressed for the cold, wearing only a silk robe I’d found folded on the bed. My bare feet slapped against the concrete as I stepped into a world that moved too fast, too cruel.

By the time i reached the corner of the block, I was shivering so hard my teeth clicked. No purse. No ID. No phone. I couldn’t even call my mother.

Mom.

Just the thought of her triggered the memory I tried so hard to bury.

Two weeks earlier.

“Mom needs another round of treatment,” the doctor had said, voice grave. “And we need the payment upfront this time.”

I had nodded, throat tight. “I’ll get it.”

I’d left the hospital with a prescription slip and two letters from billing reminding me we were behind again. Rent was due next week, and Mr. Keller had already knocked twice to ‘remind’ me we were two months behind.

My little brother Ethan had come home from school that day with a crumpled pink slip in his hand and tears in his eyes. “They said we can’t come back until Mom pays something. Anything.”

Three siblings. One mother with stage four cancer. Zero money.

I’d begged the universe for help. A miracle. Anything.

And last night, the Devil had answered.

Now.

I turned around slowly. The street was busy. My skin numb. I could go to a shelter, but what would happen after one night? Even if I made it to the hospital, they wouldn’t treat my mother without payment.

No food. No warmth. No plan.

Lucian had said I could go. And he hadn’t lied. But I wasn’t walking into freedom, I was walking into another kind of cage. One with less silk and more suffering.

I stood on the icy sidewalk a full five minutes before turning around.

I returned with frozen fingers, shame in my bones, and fury in my veins.

When the elevator doors slid open, Lucian was already waiting.

No smug smile. No I-told-you-so.

Just that same unreadable expression.

“Told you the world was colder,” he murmured.

“I didn’t come back because of you,” I snapped.

“Of course not.”

He stepped aside and let me pass.

I stopped halfway across the suite. “What do you want from me?”

“I told you. Obedience. Honesty. Surrender.”

“You’re not God.”

“No. I’m worse.”

That night, I didn’t sleep. I lay awake in his bed, curled beneath layers of silk, eyes wide open. The room was dark, lit only by the city beyond the windows.

I thought about my mother’s frail hands. My sister’s hollow eyes. The way my little brother had clung to my waist and cried, asking when life would be normal again.

Thirty days. Thirty nights. If I played it right, my family could be saved.

All it would cost was my body.

And maybe my soul.

Lucian slipped into bed sometime after midnight, fully clothed, but his presence filled the room like a shadow made of heat.

“You’re still awake,” he said quietly.

I turned my head toward him. “Do I have to sleep with you every night?”

“No,” he said. “But you’ll want to.”

I scoffed. “You think you’re irresistible?”

“No,” he said again, “I think I’m your addiction now.”

His hand slid beneath the sheet, brushing the inside of my thigh with deliberate patience. I sucked in a sharp breath, every nerve in my body sparking awake.

“You can say no,” he whispered. “You always can.”

“I hate you,” I said, but my legs parted anyway.

His fingers dipped lower, teasing, then stopping just before giving me what I craved.

“Then why are you still here?” he asked.

I didn't reply.

His mouth crashed into mine before I could think, before I could breathe. One second, I was glaring up at him, furious and shaking with all the things I hadn’t said. The next, I was pinned against the door, Lucian’s body pressed tight against mine, every inch of him demanding.

His kiss was brutal. Hungry. Like he wanted to devour me from the inside out.

I moaned against his lips, and that was all the permission he needed. His hands slid down my sides, rough and possessive, bunching up my dress until I felt the cool air hit my thighs. Then his fingers were there, sliding under the lace, teasing me like he already knew just how wet I was for him.

“Lucian,” I gasped, arching into his hand, but he didn’t slow down. He dragged his mouth to my throat, biting the sensitive spot just below my ear.

He lifted me without warning, like I weighed nothing, and slammed me down onto the bed. My dress hit the floor. His belt followed. Then his mouth was on me again,on my V spot, his tongue working in sinful, slow circles until I was writhing, begging.

I came hard, too fast, and he didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow. He drove into me with one deep, punishing thrust that had me crying out, my body stretching to take him. Every movement was rough, desperate, like we were trying to tear each other apart and hold each other together at the same time.

His name was a broken prayer on my lips. And when I came again, clawing at his back, he finally let go too, burying his face in my neck as he shuddered against me.

For a long second, there was nothing but our breathing. Then his hand slid up to cup my face, thumb brushing my lips.

“Next time,” he said softly, still inside me, “I’ll make it slow.

God help me, I wanted there to be a next time

But when i came, I realized something terrifying: I did want to stay.

But not because I trusted him.

Because I was starting to crave the burn.