Author's pov
Tiara's heart raced as she processed his words. The tension in the room felt palpable, an electric current coursing between them. She had never experienced anything like this before—this blend of fear and thrill. His grip on her wrist had been firm but not painful, a reminder of the power dynamic at play.
"What I want," he said slowly, his fingers tightening around her wrist, "is for you to submit."
"Submit?" she repeated, incredulous, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll never submit to you, sir."
He smirked, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips that sent shivers down her spine. "We'll see about that, too."
Before she could muster a response, he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against her earlobe. The sensation was unexpected, sending waves of discomfort mixed with exhilaration through her body. She gasped, feeling both pain and an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach. It was wrong, yet so intensely right.
