Chapter 6: Submissive

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, each beat a deafening drum in my ears, as the tension between Thorne and me crackles in the air like static before a storm. His words weigh on me, sharp and pointed, cutting through the defenses I’ve worked so hard to build. I’m walking a razor’s edge now, and there’s no turning back. I know he’s not just testing me anymore—he’s pulling me in. And as much as I hate to admit it, there’s a part of me that wants to let him.

I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to break. His eyes are dark, intense, filled with that raw power he thinks he controls. But right now, it’s my turn to be the one pulling the strings. I offer him a slow, deliberate smile, letting him see that I’m not backing down.

“You don’t take no for an answer?” I ask, my voice low and teasing. I step closer, close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off me, but not enough to give in just yet. Not enough to let him claim victory.

“Then maybe it’s time you learned what happens when someone like me does say yes.”

For a moment, everything else fades away—the noise of the crowd, the hum of the music. It’s just me and him, the space between us thick with tension. I’m not playing for control anymore. That ship has sailed. Now, I’m playing for something else. His trust. The kind of trust he doesn’t even know I’m forcing him to give. I need him to believe I’m a willing participant, to believe in the game he thinks we’re playing.

His hand brushes over my arm, a fleeting touch, but it sends a jolt through me. I remind myself to stay focused. He’s trying to remind me of his power, his dominance, but it’s not enough to stop me. Not now.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp, almost a warning. I can see the battle in his eyes—he’s trying to figure me out. Is this just another conquest? Or is there something else here? Something dangerous?

“I know exactly what I’m getting into,” I whisper back, my fingers trailing up his neck, just grazing the skin. I feel his breath hitch, the subtle change in his posture telling me I’ve got him exactly where I want him.

“And I know you want me, Thorne Crimson,” I add, my voice smooth, seductive. Every word is a calculated move. “The question is—how much?”

Before he can respond, I close the distance between us, my lips meeting his. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle press of lips, but it deepens quickly, the tension snapping like a taut wire between us.

I taste whiskey on his tongue and feel the heat of his body pressing against mine, but what really hits me is the intensity of the kiss. It’s not just passion. It’s something deeper, more urgent. Need. Raw, primal need. And it sends a tremor through me.

I allow myself to fall into it, just for a moment, just enough to throw him off balance. Thorne Crimson, the man who thinks he controls everything, is starting to lose his grip—and I’m the one making it happen.

But even as the kiss deepens, I know this isn’t just physical. It’s part of something bigger, a plan that’s been years in the making. I remind myself of that as his hands begin to roam over my body, exploring, claiming, while his lips stay locked on mine.

I know this wasn’t part of the plan. Not exactly. But if I’m going to gain his trust, I have to show him I’m willing to do whatever it takes—even if that means losing myself in the game for just a moment.

His hands slide down my back, pulling me closer, and I feel a rush of heat flood through me. His grip is strong, possessive, and I can’t help the way my breath catches in my chest. There’s an intensity in his movements that leaves me breathless.

“Say it,” Thorne growls against my lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me you want this.”

I pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. The hunger I see there only strengthens my resolve. This is the moment of truth—the moment I choose: back down and risk everything, or step deeper into the fire.

“I want you,” I whisper, the words slipping from my lips before I can stop them.

And just like that, I’m beneath him. His weight presses me into the cool, unforgiving floor, and I can feel the heat between us building, igniting every nerve in my body. I knew it was coming, but nothing could have prepared me for the intensity of what’s happening.

Thorne is determined to take everything from me. To strip away my control, my composure, everything I’ve carefully constructed—and I let him. I have to. This is the only way to make him trust me completely.

But as he moves, a sharp jolt of pain shoots through me, and I bite down on my lip to stop myself from gasping. The position, the force, the intensity—this isn’t what I expected. I should stop him. I should pull away. But I don’t. Something inside me refuses. This is part of the act, part of the game. He needs to believe I’m submitting. He needs to believe that he can break me.

Thorne’s eyes lock onto mine, and for a split second, I see hesitation. But then he sees it—the challenge in my gaze, the flicker of trust in my voice. His grip tightens, and the pain fades. He doesn’t want me to stop. He can’t.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he moaned.

I slide my hand down the front of his shirt, letting my fingers linger against the hard planes of his chest. Every inch of him is like fire, every muscle taut under my touch. His breath hitches just a little, and I know that I’ve got him where I want him.

“You think you own me, Thorne?” I murmur, my voice soft but dripping with intent. My lips are inches from his, my body pressed against his, feeling the heat radiating off him. “Claim me now,”