[Mature Content]
Cass swallowed hard, her pulse thundering in her ears as Uriel's fingers squeezed her neck, his fingers pressing into the sides of her throat slowly, deliberately— enough to remind her of the power he now held over her.
This was insane.
She'd made the decision to submit, to give herself over to him, but sitting here, feeling the weight of his hand, it all felt surreal. As if it wasn't really her—Cassandra Pratt, the woman who'd lived for herself, controlled her own life—but some other person entirely. Someone reckless. Some sex crazed vixen she'd never met. Someone who wanted this.
This was insane. She'd lost her marbles.
And yet, as her gaze flicked up to Uriel's face, her breath caught in her throat. His eye—red, piercing, hungry—was trained on her with a visceral intensity that made everything else fade into the background. His focus, the sheer hunger in his gaze, made her feel like she was the most delectable feast he'd ever set his eyes on. Like he was seconds away from devouring her. It sent a thrill of something hot and electric running through her veins.
In that moment, she understood why she was here, why she'd agreed to this. Why she'd let him bind her in a contract, why she was ready to let go of everything that had been hers alone.
He looked like he wanted to devour her. And, God help her, she was ready to tell him to enjoy the meal.
Uriel leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear, his voice like silk draped over steel. "Have you decided on a safeword?"
Cass blinked, her mind catching up to the words. Right. The contract. The traffic light system they'd established was simple enough; yellow meant slow down and red meant stop. But Uriel made it clear that she was to come up with her own word—a personal safeword. Something she could remember even in the heat of an intense scene, something that would tether her to the moment, to the limits they had set.
"Yes," she murmured, her voice catching slightly in her throat.
His fingers loosened ever so slightly on her neck, just enough for her to reel in the shreds of her wits. "Say it out loud."
"Lotus."
Her voice was stronger this time, the word rolling off her tongue like a quiet declaration. The flower represented so much—a blooming into this new part of herself, the slow, careful process of giving up control. It was symbolic of the sheer mind-bending chaos her life had become, caught between her duty to Havenfield, her identity as a werewolf, and the man who stood before her. The deep red of his eye, like a blood moon rising, only reminded her of why she'd chosen it.
Uriel's eye gleamed as the word rolled off her tongue, as if he were tasting it, savoring it. "Lotus," he murmured under his breath, his fingers brushing lightly down the side of her neck. His voice dipped lower, almost as if he were tasting the word. Letting it settle into the space between them, memorizing it. "A beautiful choice."
His hand slowly released its grip on her neck, the absence of his touch leaving a strange hollowness in its wake. He stepped back, his one eye never leaving hers, and when he spoke again, his voice was firm, commanding. "Come with me."
Cass followed without hesitation, her body already attuned to his. He led her out of the den and back into the adjoining playroom—the one she'd barely had time to process before. The dark blue walls, the hooks and restraints, the racks of whips and floggers, the intricate, intimidating structures meant to bind and suspend… Uriel had promised her that she would get the chance to be familiar with the items in the room and thinking about the possibilities made her head spin.
He stopped in the middle of the room, and Cass walked a few more steps towards him before he commanded softly, "Stop."
Cass halted, unsure of what was coming next. She was hyper-aware of every breath, every faint noise. But then, nothing.
Uriel stepped back, surveying her with an intensity that made her shiver. His gaze was almost clinical, a predator sizing up its prey before the pounce. Then, in a voice as sharp as a blade, he gave his next command.
"Kneel."
The word dropped like a stone between them, and it was as if her body responded before her mind could catch up. Like a puppet with its strings cut, Cass dropped to her knees, the cool floor pressing against her skin through the fabric of her dress. It was instinctual—she didn't hesitate, didn't question it—but the very act of kneeling felt foreign, strange. She was so used to holding herself upright, so used to standing her ground. And now, here she was, on her knees for the same man she'd called the devil.
He began to circle her, slowly, deliberately, like a lion stalking a cornered gazelle. His steps were silent, his gaze never wavering. The air between them was thick with tension, an unspoken promise of what was to come. She kept her eyes forward, her eyes focused on the wall as he moved, the heat of his presence brushing against her from different angles.
"Sit back on your heels," he ordered, his voice firm, clear. "Point your toes. Hands behind your back."
Cass obeyed, moving with careful precision, folding her body into the position he wanted. The vulnerability of the pose hit her immediately. Her hands clasped behind her back, her chest open and exposed. She could feel her pulse thudding in her throat, her heart racing as she waited for his next move.
She heard his footsteps stop behind her, felt the shift in the air as his hand pressed down on her head, gently but firmly pushing it down until her eyes were locked to the ground.
"This is Position 1," Uriel explained, his voice a smooth blend of command and reassurance. "Waiting. When you enter this room, this is how I want you."
Cass closed her eyes, her breath coming in shallow waves. She could feel the tension pulling at her body, the instinct to rise, to challenge him—but that was the old part of her, the part that resisted control.
It occurred to her just how much of this was fantasy. BDSM. The intricate choreography of roles, the suspension of reality to live within a scene. It was a world that required complete immersion, a space where dominance and submission existed in delicate balance. Every command was a well practiced line. Uriel was an actor. He had always been domineering, but this… this was something more. His commanding voice, the intensity of the moment—it felt both intimate and performative. She could sense him slipping into the role of Dominant, wearing it like a second skin, and while it stirred something deep within her, another part of her wanted to bite his nose and ask who the hell he thought he was talking to like that.
Maybe kinksters were just sex-positive theater brats. The thought was so ridiculous that she had to bite her lip to stop the laugh bubbling up in her throat. But it slipped out anyway—a half-choked chortle that echoed softly through the room.
Uriel paused. "Is something funny, sub?" His voice was cool, sharp, and the intentional use of 'sub' instead of her name sent an unexpected jolt of electricity through her.
She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "No."
He leaned in closer. "I didn't hear you."
Cass's pulse quickened. She bit her lip, the word heavy on her tongue as she forced herself to respond. "No, Master."
Uriel hummed in satisfaction, the sound like silk sliding over steel. "Good girl. Now stand."
Cass rose to her feet, the movement slow and deliberate. Her legs were a little shaky from kneeling but, once she was, Uriel gently kicked her legs apart, positioning her feet until her stance was wide enough to feel off-balance but not absurd. Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin heating under his touch.
"Hands behind your back," he commanded, his voice still soft but firm.
She did as commanded, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as her arms rested just above her ass. Her body stiffened as he adjusted her posture, tilting her head downward, her eyes focused on the floor. It reminded her of how a suspect stood for a pat down, and the absurdity of the thought almost made her laugh again.
"This is Position 2. Standing for inspection. This is how you will stand when I command you to prepare for me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master," Cass replied, her voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside her.
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. For a long moment, Uriel said nothing, and the weight of his attention made her skin prickle. Only the faint sound of music drifting from downstairs reminded Cass that there was a whole world beyond these walls. But in here, in this space, time seemed to stretch. Cass could feel herself growing warm under her dress, her skin prickling with anticipation and the beginnings of impatience. She'd imagined they would've been tangled in sheets by now, their clothes discarded, lost in the heat of each other's bodies. But Uriel was in no rush. He was taking his time with her, guiding her slowly, methodically. Ensuring she was properly trained.
The stillness was unnerving. Cass couldn't hear him, couldn't see him. She briefly considered using her heightened senses to listen for him, but what would she hear? Uriel was a vampire—there would be no heartbeat, no breath to follow. She was painfully aware of how vulnerable she was, her legs already aching from standing in the rigid stance he'd placed her in.
Her thoughts began to spiral. What if he'd grown bored of her? What if she wasn't standing in position properly? What if he had left the room, and she was standing here like a fool, waiting for something that wasn't going to happen?
The thought made her twitch, and she risked glancing up—just a quick peek to see where he was.
A sharp slap landed across her ass, making her cry out in surprise. The sting was immediate, hot and shocking.
"Where is your head supposed to be, sub?" Uriel's voice was calm, controlled, but there was a warning in it.
"Bowed." Her answer came out breathless, her cheeks flushing red.
Two more slaps followed in quick succession, the sharp sting making her moan softly, her body reacting to the sensation even as her mind reeled.
"I'm sorry," Uriel said, his voice low and teasing, "I didn't quite hear you."
"Bowed, Master," Cass repeated, her voice stronger this time, her pulse pounding in her ears.
His hand gripped her ass, squeezing the tender flesh where he had just struck, making her wince in a mixture of pain and pleasure. His breath was hot against her ear. "Good girl. Do not forget my title again."
The threat was clear, but so was the promise of more punishment if she did. Cass shuddered, heat pooling low in her belly as her body betrayed her once again. She wanted to be good. She wanted to please him, but her mind... her mind still buzzed with thoughts of rebellion. Uriel was in his element and now he had full control of her body but her mind? Her mind was filled with the temptation to push back at him, to see what he'd do if she stepped out of line.
Silence fell once more, and she forced herself to remain still, to obey. Her breath hitched as she felt Uriel's presence behind her, his fingers trailing up her legs, the light touch sending sparks shooting through her nerves. His hands moved with excruciating slowness, fingers teasing the soft skin of her thighs, stopping just short of where she needed him most.
Cass shivered, her body reacting to him long before her mind could catch up. Her head was still bowed, her eyes focused on the floor, but every sense was attuned to his proximity, to the heat radiating from him.
He leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. "Have I told you how delectable you look tonight?" His voice was a low, dangerous murmur, each word wrapped in silk but laced with steel.
Cass's lips parted, her breath coming in shallow pants. "No, Master," she whispered, barely able to form the words.
"Well," Uriel's fingers continued their slow ascent, ghosting just along the edges of her inner thighs, "you look absolutely ravishing."
"Thank you, Master," she replied, her voice breathy, on the verge of desperation. Her heart raced in her chest, the anticipation almost unbearable. His fingers were so close, grazing her skin, but not quite touching where she craved him most.
Uriel's voice dropped lower, darker. "No panties?" His breath fanned against her ear, the words dripping with mock surprise. "Fucking slut."
The degradation sent a shockwave of heat through her, and Cass's knees nearly buckled. She had considered wearing panties, but she'd decided against it at the last minute, just to see his reaction. Judging by his tone, she'd made the right choice.
His fingers crawled upward, painfully slow, until they finally reached the slick heat between her legs. She moaned softly as he traced a single finger through her wetness, the sensation maddening in its lightness. He barely applied any pressure, his touch so featherlight it was almost unbearable—like a ghost of pleasure that never quite reached its peak.
Her body burned, every inch of her hyper-aware of his proximity, of how easily he could push her over the edge if he wanted to, and yet he held back. Cruelly, delightfully. He didn't push inside, didn't do more than barely graze her clit, and the deprivation was driving her insane. She wanted to scream, to push herself into his hand, but she didn't dare move. What if he pulled away entirely? What if he left her like this—aching, needy, and unsatisfied?
The thought was unbearable, but then again… so was the anticipation.
"Just look at you," Uriel said, his voice low and amused, fingers still lazily circling her entrance. "So eager. So responsive. So fucking wet. Who would've guessed you'd be such a needy little thing?"
Cass whimpered, her body aching for more, still she didn't move. She was trembling now, her legs shaky as she resisted the urge to push back against him, to grind herself into his hand. She wanted—no, needed him to do more. Surely, he was going to fuck her soon, right? He had to.
But Uriel wasn't in any hurry. His finger circled her entrance again, brushing her clit only briefly before retreating, as if he were content to simply luxuriate in the feeling of her wetness on his fingers, reveling in the power he had over her.
Cass's breath came out in shallow pants, her body on fire, and still, he didn't give her what she so desperately needed.
God, this was so embarrassing. Standing in his playroom, her legs spread with his fingers between them, it was humiliating and that in turn only fed into her arousal. How had she not realized sooner that she was such a masochist? That embarrassment, degradation and pain would only make her pussy throb? She was learning just as much about herself as Uriel was— which was nice but, fuck, he needed to stop with the teasing.
She didn't know if she could take it for much longer. His slow, fleeting touches, the careful dragging of his fingers over her clit. Every nerve ending in her body was buzzing with the need for release, beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and slid down her face which was now red from exertion and pleasure. He was enjoying her unraveling and Cass couldn't take it.
Finally, she broke. Her voice was low, desperate. "Please, Master."
Uriel paused. "What was that, sub?"
There it was again. 'Sub'. Not her name. Not his repertoire of nicknames for her. Just one word that entirely stripped of her identity and made her his object. She shivered.
"Please, Master. Fuck me," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with need.
Uriel pressed the tip of his finger into her, just enough for her to feel it, and Cass gasped, her body clenching around him instinctively. His lips were suddenly at her ear again, his voice a dark, dangerous purr. "I know you can beg better than that, sub."
Cass bit her bottom lip, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. The slow, languid pace at which Uriel teased her, pushing just the tip of his finger in and out of her, was maddening. She was on fire, every nerve ending alight, her body screaming for more.
So she cast away the last vestiges of her pride, her voice trembling as she pleaded, "Please, Master. Please. Please, fuck me. I need you. I need you to fuck me."
Uriel pushed his finger in deeper, down to the first knuckle and Cass almost rejoiced, glad she was finally getting what she'd pleaded for. Then, all too soon, he withdrew his finger entirely, and she whined at the sudden loss of contact, the ache between her legs unbearable. Before she could voice her frustration, he stepped in front of her, his boots coming into view.
"Raise your head, Cassandra," he commanded softly.
She obeyed, lifting her head, and the raw lust burning in his crimson eye made her breath catch. He looked… ravenous. Dangerous. And impossibly, it made her want him even more.
Uriel raised his hand, his middle and index fingers glistening with her wetness. His tone was casual, almost mocking as he held his fingers up before her face. "Clean these for me, will you?"
Cass's breath stuttered. Slowly, she leaned forward and took his fingers into her mouth, tasting the sharp, salty tang of her own desire on his skin. The flavor mingled with something that was unmistakably Uriel, a heady, intoxicating mix that made her head spin. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as his fingers slid deeper, pressing down on her tongue, moving gently in and out of her mouth like a promise of what was to come.
She sucked obediently, her mouth working over his fingers, her eyes rolling back as she lost herself in the act, in the taste of him.
Uriel watched her, his gaze unrelenting, his smirk small but undeniably proud and self-satisfied. "Good girl."
When he pulled his fingers from her mouth, he traced the outline of her lips with his thumb, a teasing caress that sent another wave of heat pulsing through her.
Cass resisted the sudden, wild urge to bite the thumb resting on her lip. Instead, she stared up at him like the good sub she was supposed to be, waiting for his next command.
Uriel's grin widened, just a fraction. "I believe," he said, his voice dripping with amusement and dark promise, "we have a party to attend."
Cass blinked, her body still humming with the tension between them, her skin warm from the touch of his fingers and the weight of his commands. The abrupt shift threw her off-balance for a moment, and the tension left behind was like a cord stretched too tight, ready to snap.
The party. Right. There was still a party.
For a moment, she had forgotten that the world outside this room even existed. That was it? Two positions and a whole lot of teasing? That was all he was going to give her before thrusting her back into the outside world? She would have cursed at him if only her lust-fogged brain could find the words.
He stepped back, and Cass felt the absence of his presence like a physical ache, the distance between them a yawning chasm that only seemed to amplify the heat that still thrummed through her.
Uriel held out his hand. "Come, Sladosti."
For a moment, Cass could only blink. Come? Now? Her entire body was still alight with unspent desire, her muscles tight from holding herself in position, her mind buzzing with the promise of pleasure. But instead of pushing her further, Uriel was… ending the scene? Or at least pausing it. Her frustration surged, hot and unexpected, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from letting out a disappointed whine.
She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to cool the fire still burning in her belly. With a reluctant nod, she placed her hand in his, though her mind was still racing, her body screaming for the release he'd denied her.
That was the wrong command, she thought bitterly. She would not be coming—at least, not yet.