HIS PET, HIS RULES

The Contract

The pen was still on the table.

Daisy hadn’t signed it last night, but she hadn’t slept either. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the ghost of his lips against her wrist, heard his low voice promising escape in exchange for obedience.

She told herself she hated Xander Reed, arrogant and ruthless. But hate didn’t explain why her pulse raced when she thought of him, why the memory of his gray eyes lingered like a touch she couldn’t shake.

By morning, the eviction notice had slipped under her door. It was final. She had three days left.

That was how she found herself back at the tower that evening, heart in her throat, contract trembling in her bag.

Xander was waiting for her. Of course he was.

He stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone. He didn’t look like a man accustomed to waiting but the way his mouth curved when she stepped inside told her he had known she would come.

“Miss Carter,” he drawled, eyes dropping to the papers clutched in her hand. “Have you decided?”

Her throat was dry. “I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he corrected, stepping closer. “This one just happens to be the better one.”

She tried to breathe steadily as she placed the contract on the desk. He slid the pen toward her, his fingers brushing hers deliberately, and watched as she bent to sign.

Each stroke of ink felt like shackles closing around her wrists. When she set the pen down, Xander leaned in, his gaze locking on her lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured. The praise was soft, but it struck her like lightning. Hot, humiliating, and strangely intoxicating.

The moment the contract was sealed, something in the air shifted. He wasn’t offering anymore. He was claiming.

Xander circled her slowly, as though assessing his new possession. His hand brushed over her shoulder, down the length of her arm, pausing at her wrist as though reminding her of the place he’d kissed the night before.

“You belong to me now,” he said softly. “Every hour of your day. Every part of your body. Every thought in your pretty head. Do you understand?”

Daisy’s lips parted. The words caught in her throat. She wanted to say no. She wanted to protest. Instead, all that came out was a shaky whisper.

“Yes.”

He smiled, satisfied, and tilted her chin up with two fingers. His touch was firm, not rough, but commanding enough to make her knees threaten to buckle.

“I don’t expect obedience to come easily,” he said, his thumb brushing along her lower lip. “But I will have it. And you’ll learn that submission isn’t weakness… it’s freedom.”

Her breath caught when he leaned closer, so close his lips hovered a whisper away. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t give her what she unconsciously leaned toward. Instead, he let the tension coil tighter, pulling back with deliberate slowness.

Daisy’s body ached with the denial, heat pooling low in her belly.

“Patience,” he murmured, watching her eyes darken with want. “I won’t take you tonight. Not yet. Tonight, I’ll teach you how it feels to want without having.”

His hand slid into her hair, tugging lightly not enough to hurt, but enough to command. Her breath shivered out of her chest as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

“Close your eyes.”

She obeyed, though every nerve screamed with anticipation. His lips brushed the curve of her neck, featherlight, then trailed lower to her collarbone. Each touch was restrained, devastatingly slow, like fire licking across her skin.

When his tongue flicked briefly against her pulse, she gasped, her hands clenching at her sides. He chuckled against her skin, the sound deep and knowing.

“Already trembling,” he whispered. “And I’ve barely begun.”

His hand slid down her waist, stopping just at the curve of her hip. Not lower. Never enough. He kept her suspended between desperation and denial, teaching her body to ache for his command.

“You’ll learn,” Xander said, his breath hot against her throat. “That pleasure is mine to give and mine to take away.”

Daisy’s knees nearly buckled, but his grip in her hair held her upright, forcing her to feel every second of the torment.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were parted, her chest rising and falling too quickly. His eyes were dark with satisfaction.

“Go home,” he ordered softly. “Dream of me. And when you wake tomorrow, you’ll know exactly who owns you.”

The elevator doors closed around her minutes later, but Daisy barely felt the descent. Her body still burned from touches that weren’t quite touches, kisses that never landed.

And as much as she hated herself for it, one truth pulsed hot and undeniable through her veins.

She already wanted more.