chapter two

Chapter Two

Winne woke to the hum of the city outside her window, the distant honking of horns and the murmur of life below. The sunlight filtered through her curtains, painting golden streaks across her bare skin. For a moment, she lingered in that in-between state, half-dreaming of the night before. The memories of Adam's presence, his commanding tone, and the quiet electricity of his touch were fresh in her mind, leaving a deep ache she couldn't quite shake.

She stretched, feeling a pull in her muscles from the tension of the previous evening. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a sigh, she reached for it, already knowing who it was.

Adam: _"Good morning, Winne. Meet me at the penthouse at 8 p.m. tonight. Don't be late. Wear the dress I sent over. And remember… no questions."

A rush of nervous excitement coursed through her as she read his message. It wasn't just the words but the precision, the way he left no room for negotiation. Adam Sly wasn't a man who asked for things; he demanded them. And somehow, she found herself unable to resist.

She placed her phone down and padded to the kitchen, her thoughts tangled in anticipation. The delivery arrived later that afternoon: a sleek black box tied with crimson ribbon. Winne hesitated for a moment before unwrapping it. Inside was a deep emerald-green dress, its fabric impossibly soft. It clung to her curves perfectly when she tried it on, the slit up the thigh adding a touch of daring elegance. Alongside the dress was a delicate velvet choker, adorned with a single silver charm—a subtle but undeniable mark of possession.

She swallowed hard, her reflection staring back at her in the mirror. Was she ready for this? For him? Her heart said yes, even if her head screamed warnings she couldn't quite articulate.

By the time the elevator doors slid open to Adam's penthouse, Winne's nerves were buzzing. She stepped into the dimly lit space, a world of polished marble floors, high ceilings, and understated luxury. The faint scent of cedarwood and leather lingered in the air—Adam's scent.

He was waiting for her in the center of the room, a glass of whiskey in hand. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, he looked every bit the man who could command a room with a glance. His eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail of her appearance. The air grew thick with unspoken tension.

"You're on time. Good," he said, his voice low and smooth.

Winne nodded, unsure of what to say. She'd been replaying every scenario in her head during the cab ride over, but now, standing before him, her thoughts scattered like autumn leaves in the wind.

Adam placed his glass on a nearby table and walked toward her. "You look stunning. The dress suits you," he murmured, his fingertips brushing against the velvet choker at her throat. "And this… This means you're mine tonight. Are you ready for that?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Winne met his gaze, her pulse racing. "Yes," she whispered.

"Good," he said, a small, satisfied smile playing at his lips. "Then follow me."

He led her to a room she hadn't seen before. It was smaller than the rest of the penthouse but just as meticulously designed. The walls were adorned with abstract art in deep, moody tones, and a low leather chaise sat in the center. The air felt different here—charged and intimate.

Adam turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Take off the dress," he instructed, his tone firm but not unkind.

Winne hesitated for the briefest moment before reaching for the zipper at her side. She let the fabric pool at her feet, standing before him in nothing but the choker and her black heels. The vulnerability of the moment hit her like a wave, but she stood her ground, refusing to shrink beneath his gaze.

"Beautiful," he said, his voice softer now. He stepped closer, his fingers trailing down her arm. "I want you to trust me tonight, Winne. Completely."

"I do," she replied, and she meant it.

Adam's hand moved to the small of her back, guiding her to the chaise. "Sit," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. She obeyed, her breath hitching as she felt the cool leather against her skin.

He knelt before her, his hands firm yet gentle as they wrapped around her ankles. Slowly, deliberately, he removed her heels, his touch sending shivers up her spine. "Tonight is about control," he began, his gaze locking with hers. "Mine over you, and your surrender to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Good," he said again, his lips curving into that same enigmatic smile. "Then let's begin."

The hours that followed were a blur of sensation and emotion. Adam pushed her limits, but never past what she could handle. He was patient, attentive, and utterly commanding. Every touch, every word, every movement was calculated to draw her deeper into his world, into him.

There were moments of intensity that left her breathless, her body trembling. But there were also moments of tenderness that caught her off guard—the way his hand lingered on her cheek, the way he whispered her name as if it were a secret only he knew. It was a dance, a delicate balance of power and trust that left her feeling both vulnerable and empowered.

By the time he finally released her, she was spent in every sense of the word. Adam wrapped her in a soft blanket and carried her to the sofa, cradling her as if she were something precious.

"You did well tonight," he said, his voice warm and reassuring.

Winne looked up at him, her heart full. "Thank you," she said, though she wasn't sure what she was thanking him for. For pushing her? For holding her? For seeing her in a way no one else ever had?

Adam brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes softer now. "Get some rest, Winne. There's more to come."

She nodded, her body relaxing against him. For the first time in a long time, she felt completely at peace. And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them.

Whatever it was, she was ready.