CHAPTER 4: A LESSON IN SUBMISSION

Seraphina's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps.

The air between them was thick, oppressive, charged with something dangerous. Something that sank its claws into her, refusing to let go. A raw, animalistic energy that made her skin prickle.

Kier still had her pinned beneath him, his weight pressing her into the cold stone floor, his fingers curled around her throat—not choking, just reminding her.

Reminding her who was stronger. Who was in control.

His golden eyes gleamed as he took in the rise and fall of her chest, the defiance burning in her glare, the way her body trembled—not from fear, but from something darker. Something he fucking knew she was trying to fight.

"You hate this, don't you?" Kier's voice was a taunt, low and rough, laced with amusement. "The way I have you like this."

Seraphina bared her teeth, her nails digging into his wrist where he held her down. "Get. The fuck. Off me."

Kier laughed, a low, cruel sound that vibrated through her body. It wasn't a light sound, but a dark, indulgent rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

"And if I don't?" His fingers flexed slightly, just enough to make her aware of how easily he could take all the air from her lungs if he wanted to. A subtle reminder of his power.

"What will you do, little queen?" He leaned in closer, his lips just brushing the shell of her ear. His voice was pure sin. "Scratch me? Bite me?"

His grip on her tightened just enough to make her feel it. His voice dropped to something even filthier, something knowing.

"Or will you moan for me instead?"

Heat scorched through her, fury and something shameful tangling in her stomach.

She thrashed beneath him, twisting, arching, but it was fucking useless.

Kier was unmovable. A wall of muscle. A force of nature.

His body pressed against hers in a way that made her stomach tighten with something shameful, something wicked. A dark, forbidden heat that made her want to scream and surrender all at once.

Because she could feel him. Hard. Hot. Unyielding. So fucking confident that he had already won.

"Fuck you," she spat.

Kier hummed. "That's the plan, little queen."

He pressed his hips down, and Seraphina sucked in a sharp breath.

Shit.

He felt it. Felt her reaction. His smirk widened. "You're trembling." His lips were too close now, his scent wrapping around her, thick and inescapable. "Is it rage, little queen? Or is it something else?"

She refused to answer.

She refused to answer. But her body betrayed her. A traitorous heat spreading through her veins. A rush of heat pooled low, her thighs clenching before she could stop herself. The scent of him—smoky, wild, wrong—wrapped around her like a noose.

And when he shifted against her, the heavy, solid length of him dragging against the sensitive space between her legs, a soft, involuntary gasp slipped past her lips, a sound that echoed in the charged silence of the chamber.

Kier froze. His golden eyes darkening, a predatory gleam in their depths. "Oh," he murmured, dangerously slow, his voice a low growl that vibrated against her skin. "There it is."

Heat surged through Seraphina, shame and fury tangled together as her thighs clench involuntarily, a desperate, primal response that she couldn't control.

Kier felt it. He fucking knew, and it made his smirk sharpen, a flash of white teeth in the dim light.

"Still want me to stop?" He asked, his voice a low, seductive taunt.

He rolled his hips against her, the friction slow, deliberate, cruel, a teasing torment that made her want to scream and beg all at once.

Seraphina bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, a desperate attempt to regain control, to silence the traitorous sounds that threatened to escape her.

"No answer?" Kier teased. "That's interesting. Because your body—" another slow, deliberate roll of his hips, the hard length of him pressing against the heat of her—"—seems to be answering just fine."

Bastard.

She fucking hated him. Hated him for being right.

for making her feel like this, like she wanted more, like she was losing control.

"You're sick," she snarled.

Kier tilted his head, golden eyes glowing with dark amusement. His smirk only widened, a predatory grin that sent a shiver down her spine.

"And yet," he whispered, dragging his lips along her jaw, his breath hot against her skin, his voice a dark promise,

"You're the one getting wet for me."

Seraphina went rigid. Heat flooded her cheeks—and something else, something even worse, coiled low in her stomach.

Kier felt it.

And his smirk sharpened into something predatory.

"Nothing to say, little queen?" His fingers slid lower, tracing the curve of her waist, burning through the thin layer of fabric like a brand.

Seraphina's chest rose and fell too fast. Fury and desire waged war inside her, tangled so tightly she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"Go to hell," she seethed.

"Darling, I am hell." Kier dragged his lips lower, his tongue just barely flicking over the skin of her throat. "And you're burning for me."

She hissed, jerking beneath him, but he didn't move. Didn't budge an inch. He was playing with her.

Toying with her like she was some helpless little thing beneath him.

This wasn't happening.

She wasn't—

Fucking hell. She was.

Her nails dug into his wrist, but she wasn't pulling him away—just holding on.

Kier noticed. And that smug, sinful smirk of his deepened.

"You can fight it," he murmured, his voice dark velvet, smooth and rich as he let his fingers brush her thigh.

Seraphina sucked in a sharp breath.

"But we both know," Kier whispered, lips grazing her ear, "I can make you beg."

Something inside her snapped.

Oh, you arrogant prick. She moved on pure instinct. A sharp, vicious twist of her hips, a blur of motion—

And suddenly, she had him on his back. Straddling him.

Kier's smirk flickered into something else. Something darker. Something hungry.

Seraphina's hands slammed down on his chest, pinning him to the stone floor, her legs bracketing his hips.

Kier let out a low, wicked laugh.

"Oh," he drawled, his fingers skimming the bare skin of her thighs, making her shiver. "Look at you, little queen."

Seraphina dug her nails into his skin.

"Shut up."

Kier's hands flexed on her thighs, gripping, kneading. "Make me."

Her breath caught. The air between them pulsed.

This. This was a different kind of battle. A fight for dominance. For control.

Seraphina leaned down, her face a breath from his, her lips so fucking close to his mouth she could feel his exhale.

"You think I'm going to break," she whispered, her fingers dragging down his chest, slow and deliberate.

Kier's breath hitched. Just a little. But she felt it. Saw it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his golden eyes darkened.

"You want me weak," she murmured, "so you can win."

Kier's smirk was slow, dangerous. "I don't need you weak," he said, voice like a low growl.

He sat up so fast, so fluid, Seraphina barely had time to react before his hands were on her hips, pulling her flush against him.

His mouth brushed her ear. "I just need you to give in." Her pulse slammed. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders.

For a split second, she felt it—felt herself sinking. And that was when she remembered who the fuck she was. She bared her teeth.

"You want submission?" she whispered, curling her fingers into his hair—And yanked his head back.

Kier's golden eyes burned into hers. His smirk sharpened.

And with a voice dripping with wicked delight, he whispered—

"Now we're getting somewhere."

But Seraphina was not weak. She was not his.

And if Kier thought she would let him win, he was about to learn the hard way…

Because this time, she was taking control.

END OF CHAPTER 4