MasukGone was the patient man who had spent the evening watching her every reaction. This Andrew was cold. Alert. Dangerous. Anita became completely still. Everyone in the house knew Andrew had a guest. More importantly, everyone had apparently been instructed not to disturb him unless something serious happened. So whoever had just thrown open his bedroom door had either lost their mind... Or something was very wrong. Andrew's expression darkened when he recognized the intruder. “Samantha.” The single word contained enough warning to make Anita instinctively pull the blanket closer around herself. Samantha stood in the doorway. Her usual composed appearance was gone. She looked flustered. Almost breathless. But Anita caught something else. Only for a second. Samantha's eyes moved through the room, taking in far more than she needed to. Then her gaze landed on Anita. Something ugly flashed across her face. Gone almost immediately. Jealousy. Ani
Andrew began carefully undoing what remained of their earlier play, checking Anita as he worked. His attention had changed again. The commanding edge receded. Not completely. But enough. Anita noticed. “You have a lot of personalities.” Andrew glanced at her. “I could say the same about you.” “I have one personality.” “That is objectively false.” Anita gasped. “Rude.” “You've insulted me approximately twelve times since entering my house.” “Those were observations.” “Of course.” Anita smiled. The joking felt good. Normal. Grounding. Andrew continued checking her carefully. For once, Anita allowed someone else to fuss over her without immediately insisting she could handle everything herself. That might have been the strangest development of the entire evening. Eventually, Andrew sat beside her. Anita stared at the ceiling. “So.” “So?” “I learned something.” Andrew waited. Anita turned her head. “I don't think submission means
“Tell me something,” he said.Anita blinked.“What?”His eyebrow rose.She corrected herself automatically.“Sir.”“Better.”He studied her.“This is your opportunity to leave.”Anita became still.Andrew continued before she could misunderstand him.“Not because you've done anything wrong.”His voice was calm.“But because I want you making the next decision with a clear head.”Anita swallowed.“I thought we already decided.”“We decided you wanted to begin.”His gaze remained fixed on hers.“I'm asking whether you want to continue.”That distinction mattered.Anita stared at him.The easy answer would have been yes.Automatic.Impulsive.But Andrew wasn't asking for an automatic answer.So Anita actually thought about it.She was exhausted.Overwhelmed.Her emotions felt strangely close to the surface.Yet underneath all of that was something she had not expected.Relief.For the first time in years, Anita wasn't responsible for fixing anything.She wasn't Doctor Anita.She wasn't t
“Relax.”Andrew’s voice cut cleanly through the storm inside Anita’s head.“Take a slow breath.”She obeyed.Or tried to.Breathing should have been simple.In.Out.Something she had done without thinking for thirty-three years.Yet nothing about this moment felt simple.Every nerve in Anita’s body seemed awake at once, leaving her caught somewhere between wanting to retreat and wanting to discover exactly how far this unfamiliar experience could carry her.Andrew watched her carefully.The teasing man from dinner was gone.This Andrew was quieter.Focused.Completely in control of himself even while Anita felt as though control had become something distant and abstract.“We don’t need to rush,” he said.Anita opened her eyes.He was studying her face.Not simply looking.Studying.Reading.She had spent years doing something similar with patients.A tightened jaw.A change in breathing.The subtle twitch of fingers.Tiny signs that revealed what words sometimes concealed.Apparently
“Good.”Then Andrew asked the question Anita had been expecting.“How much do you want me to challenge you tonight?”Her stomach fluttered.She swallowed.This was real now.Not a novel.Not messages exchanged through a screen.Not something imagined while lying awake in her bedroom wondering what surrendering control might actually feel like.She was standing in front of Andrew.She could stay.She could leave.And, perhaps most importantly, she knew Andrew would allow either choice.That knowledge changed everything.“I don't want you treating me like I'm fragile.”Andrew waited.Anita gathered herself.“I want to understand what I've been curious about all week.”“Anita.”His voice softened just enough to make her stop.“You don't have to prove anything tonight.”That landed harder than she expected.She looked at him.Andrew continued.“You don't earn anything by enduring something you dislike.”For once, Anita had no joke ready.She nodded.“I know.”“Good.”His posture shifted.S
I feel like crying right now, since the storm our internet has been in and out. It has been out since sometime last week but was finally fixed today, overall lack of Internet made it impossible for me to upload any new updates, I couldn't even view my documents, no TV, no social media, couldn't even make phone calls out because I live in a rural area so it's impossible to use my mobile data and if I'm able to use it I can only use it for little little things. Even texting took forever to be sent, so my phone was just a hunk of plastic on my bedside table. so I plan on updating tomorrow and again thank you for having patience with me. Also one thing I can say for a fact is that I personally cannot go back to the stone ages where there was no internet, electricity, etc I can't do it I'm not built for that and I have accepted that I am not built to live in hardship like this, so again everybody who is still dealing with the aftermath of hurricane Helen, etc I feel for you because mother
I'm not sure if my readers are aware but Georgia the state where I live, experienced a hurricane that completely destroyed and shut down a lot of businesses. I have been without water, electricity, and until today internet because of hurricane Helen. I'm writing this chapter just to let my readers k
"Andrew there is no more foreign object in Blake's wound, so focus and pass me the sterilized water I need to flush out as much blood as I can before sewing him up," she spoke. Listening to Anita's order, Andrew passed Anita the sterilized water, watching as she flushed out the now comatose Blake's
"Miss. Wilson here are the supplies that you ask for," spoke Samantha who breathlessly emphasized her tiredness in her every action. Her arms at this time were loaded with supplies and instead of presenting them to Anita, she presented them instead to Andrew waiting for him to praise her. Andrew col
Anita, who was paying attention to their conversation, vaguely connected the dots, knowing that the only help she could provide would be her ability to handle a knife plus she felt that such a man like Andrew should have also noticed by now the malice Samantha kept poorly hidden directed towards her







