Chapter 032

Chapter 032
Killian’s breath hitched suddenly, sharp and uncontrollable.
“—ah—”
A low sound tore out of him, rough and unguarded, followed by a broken exhale. “Fuck—”
His teeth caught her shoulder in a quick, instinctive bite, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to ground himself. Then he pulled away, rolling onto his back with a strained laugh that had no humor in it at all.
He lay there staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling hard, muscles still taut as if he hadn’t quite come back to himself yet. The room felt too quiet afterward, the air heavy and close.
Sophia shifted beside him, catching her breath too. After a moment, she moved closer, draping herself over his chest like she’d done a hundred times before. Her cheek settled against his skin, her fingers idly tracing the line of his ribs.
Killian’s hand came up automatically, threading through her hair. He stroked it slowly, rhythmically, eyes still fixed on the ceiling as if it might give him answers.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Sophia lifted her head slightly, resting her chin on his chest. “You’ve been distant,” she said, not accusing, but not joking either. “Last few days. You disappear, you don’t text. I thought maybe…”
He glanced down at her. “Maybe what?”
She shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter. “Maybe you were seeing someone else.”
Killian let out a quiet breath through his nose. “Soph,” he said, smooth, easy, already slipping back into the version of himself she knew. “You know I don’t do that.”
She studied his face for a second longer than usual, searching. “Then what is it?”
He brushed her hair back from her face, thumb grazing her temple. “Family shit. Things I don’t feel like getting into.”
It was close enough to the truth to pass.
Sophia huffed softly, rolling her eyes. “You always say that.”
“And you always believe me,” he replied, lips quirking.
She smiled despite herself and settled back down, listening to his heartbeat. “Just don’t disappear on me, okay?”
Killian stared back up at the ceiling.
“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “Okay.”
His hand kept moving through her hair, slow and steady.
Sophia shifted again, restless now, tracing idle patterns across his chest that weren’t quite absent-minded anymore.
“Oh,” she said suddenly, like she’d just remembered something important. “By the way—did I tell you about Lara?”
Killian hummed noncommittally.
“My colleague,” Sophia added. “From marketing. Tall, brunette, thinks she’s mysterious.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s throwing a birthday thing this weekend. One of those rooftop parties where everyone pretends they’re not checking who shows up with who.”
Killian’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“And?” he asked.
“And she invited me,” Sophia said, lifting her head again, eyes bright now in that expectant way. “Which means she invited us.”
Us.
The word settled heavier than it should have.
Killian stared at the ceiling again. The Annex. The contract. Theodore’s stillness across a café table. The way tomorrow had started to feel like a deadline instead of a day.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly before he could stop himself.
Sophia’s expression shifted immediately. “You never know,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Every time it’s something. You’re busy, you’re tired, you’re ‘not in the mood.’”
“That’s not—”
She cut him off with a scoff. “It’s just one night. You show up, look good, drink something overpriced, leave early. You’re great at that.”
Killian exhaled slowly.
She watched him, waiting. Pushing.
“Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll go.”
Sophia’s face lit up instantly, irritation evaporating like it had never existed. She leaned back into him, satisfied. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Killian didn’t respond.
He wrapped an arm around her anyway, reflexive, practiced—his body going through motions his head had already left behind.
That was when the phone chimed.
Soft. Clean. Unforgiving.
Killian ignored it at first, eyes still on the ceiling, Sophia warm and heavy against his chest. Another vibration followed—longer this time.
His jaw tightened.
“Don’t,” Sophia murmured, curling closer, fingers brushing his ribs. “Stay.”
He hesitated. Then the thought hit him—sharp and unwelcome.
The Annex.
He shifted, starting to sit up. “One second.”
She caught his arm. “Killian—”
He leaned down and kissed her, slow and reassuring, like a promise he didn’t intend to keep. “It might be important.”
She sighed but let go, rolling onto her side.
Killian reached down, grabbed his trousers from the floor, and fished his phone from the pocket. He climbed back onto the bed. Sophia settled against him again, chin on his chest, watching the screen with mild curiosity.
The email loaded.
She glanced up. “Was it important?”
Killian didn’t answer.
The header alone made his stomach drop.
From: Blackthorn Program Coordination
Subject: Contract Review — Amendments & Schedule
He swallowed and scrolled.

We confirm receipt of the submitted Dominant/Submissive contract.
Following internal review, the contract has been accepted with amendments.
The dynamic will remain basic-level instruction only.
No sexual activity is required.
All instruction will be conducted under module-based guidance provided by the team.

Schedule Protocol:
Day 1: Module delivered to the Dominant.
Days 2–3: Preparation period.
Teaching session must occur within 48 hours.
Preparation days do not count toward the 25-day contract.
Only completed teaching sessions will be counted.
This structure will repeat for subsequent modules.

Reward Clause:
The one-day session skip has been approved.
Skipped days do not reduce the total contract length.

Audit Notice:
The Dominant’s performance will be monitored and evaluated.
Failure to meet instructional outcomes will result in corrective measures.
You will be notified when the first module is released.

Killian’s vision blurred slightly.
Two days to prepare.
Then teach.
Then repeat.
Watched.
His stomach rolled, slow and nauseating.
Sophia shifted, frowning. “What is it?”
He locked the phone and dropped it face-down onto the bedside table. “Nothing,” he said too quickly. “College nonsense.”
She studied him. “You sure? You went pale.”
Killian forced a smile, cupping her face with both hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks. “Hey,” he said softly. “We didn’t come here to talk.”
Her protest died under his touch.
He leaned down, voice low, controlled. “Round two.”
Sophia smiled despite herself, fingers curling into his shoulders as he pulled her close again.
But even as he kissed her, even as he pushed the world back into something simple and physical—
All Killian could see was the word audit.
Waiting.