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He shoves his hands into his pockets and strolls towards the poll. There are no hurried movements. I’m sure you can hear the thundering of my heart in this room that suddenly feels too small. He steps up onto the low platform and leans against the pole.

This is it. He’s going to tell me to get out and never show my face here again. I’ll be back to my old life and on the run from Luke. Just when I finally had hope that this nightmare was going to end soon.

“Quite the show, Angel,” he comments, his voice a low growl, but his posture is anything but tense.

Somehow, his nonchalant tone slows my heart rate, bringing the familiarity of him back. But I don’t know if I’m in the clear yet.

I clear my throat. “I’m sor—”

“Do you remember what I told you about watching you dance in front of all those people?” he asks.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He hums, his head dropping against the pole. “Fucking. Delightful.”

My chest drops on a short exhale. “What?”

“You.”

That one simple word is all it takes for me to get my thoughts and plan back on track.

Such a simple word that shouldn’t mean shit. But when it comes from Xander, it’s everything and more.

A gradual grin grows on my lips. He pushes off the pole, but I stand immediately, my platform heels adding a bit of height and confidence. He halts.

He’s not in control yet.

I let the chains dangle from my hands, and drag along the floor as I make my way over to him. His face becomes more visible as I approach. I take his hand, placing the chain in his palm. He watches me intensely as I do the same to his other hand. Looking up at him again, his eyes flick between the lengthy chains before landing on me.

“You did so well out there,” I coo, running my finger over the buttons of his half-open shirt.

“Oh, fuck,” he laughs, dropping his head forward, and the sound of that lands straight in my core, causing heat to gather.

As much as I would love control, Xander has given me a sanctuary to submit fully. To be controlled in a loving way. This job has given me back what was once missing from me, but now I want to give it over to him.

“You want to control me?” I start. “Fine. This is me giving you the control you need.” I breathe out shakily.

His eyes hold an element of surprise for a second—then chains clatter on the laminate platform, and he’s on me, hand wrapped around my neck, leading me backwards towards the bed. The back of my knees hits the bed, and I fall on my back before I lift myself up to my elbows. He stands in front of me, hair messy and shirt open, the outline of his gun in his pocket. Pride swells within me that he was able to control himself, despite what his mind was telling him to do.

“Do your worst, Xander,” I taunt—that depraved side of me showing its face again. The side that only Xander can make me feel safe exposing.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he murmurs, leaning his fists either side of me, face so close that I can feel stubble around his lips scratching at mine. There’s slight hesitation in his voice. As if I still have yet to see the worst of him.

“I do,” I breathe, my tongue darting out to lick along his bottom lip. “There’s nothing you could do that would scare me off.” I repeat the words he once said to me because it’s the truth.

What he did in the past is the worst he could’ve done. Yet, I’m still here.

His mouth meets mine in a kiss of possession, tongue entangling with mine.

“I’m giving myself over to you,” I whisper through interrupted kisses.

He growls, hand wrapping around my neck and pressing the pressure points, causing an immediate woozy feeling in my head.

I moan into his mouth, my hips moving on their own accord, seeking friction from the buttons of my bodysuit.

“You feel that?”

I moan again, my heels finding purchase in a small gap between the bedframe and the mattress.