Chapter 66 You are my submissive
Veronica's POV:
The cabin looked like it had been swallowed by the forest, with trees around.
No one seemed to be around... as if the world had simply ended here. The only noise I heard was the leaves ruffling.
For a moment, I stood at the entrance, my breath fogging slightly in the cold air, feeling like I’d stepped into some secret world that didn’t belong to reality.
Max pushed the door open behind me, and I walked inside.
And instantly… my assumptions shattered.
The interior wasn’t dark or creepy like the outside suggested. It was warm. Almost… cozy.
A fireplace waited, logs stacked invitingly beside it, making the place warm with couch, and bookshelves.
It looked lived in. Like a home.
Like Max had been here enough times to make it his own.
I turned around slowly, eyes scanning the room with disbelief. “You’re telling me you own a cabin in the middle of nowhere?” I asked, curiously.
Max shut the door behind us with a calm click and leaned casually against it, arms folded across his chest, his expression unreadable… except for that familiar smirk that always made me feel weak everywhere in my body. Tighten.
“Well,” he drawled, “it’s not like I stole it.” I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t act cute. I’m serious.”
He pushed off the door and walked toward me with slow, unhurried steps, as if he had all the time in the world. Like nothing about this situation was strange.
But to me, it was. This entire thing felt like a setup. A trap. A thrill.
And I hated how much the thrill was winning me over... I wanted to jump into this unknown.
I folded my arms, raising my chin. “Don’t tell me you used to come here with girls.” Max’s smirk deepened.
“Would you feel better if I said no?” he asked. I stared at him for a second.
Then I let out a long, exhausted sigh. Of course. It was still Max, after all.
Why was I even surprised? He was the king of flings, the master of temporary connections that burned bright and fizzled out just as quickly.
This cabin had probably seen dozens of women, each one thinking they were special until they realized they were just another notch on his bedpost.
However, despite all that—despite knowing his reputation... it still wasn't enough to stop me from doing this. It's not that I knew Max deep enough or that he wouldn't hurt me... it's my sense of adventure which I never realized I had.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said.
“Maybe I should,” I shot back, though my voice didn’t sound as sharp as I wanted it to. God, I was long gone...
Max chuckled softly, then turned his head toward a hallway leading deeper into the cabin. “You can go to that room,” he said calmly. “You’ll find the clothes you’re supposed to wear.”
I froze. “What?” I asked slowly, blinking. “Clothes I’m supposed to wear?”
Max didn’t answer immediately. He only smiled, mischievously... with that look in his blue eyes that said he was always three steps ahead, always orchestrating something, always in control even when he pretended not to be.
He had planned this already! I understood then how he worked. How he operated... this man just had too many layers.
It should have annoyed me. Should have made me feel manipulated.
Instead, it made my pulse quicken with lust and anticipation. And I hated myself for it!
"Fine," I said, matching his smirk with one of my own. "But whatever you have planned better be worth the mystery."
Inside the room, everything was in shades of pink and black.
The walls were a soft blush pink, but the furniture... the bed frame, the dresser, the curtains... were all deep, midnight black.
It was an interesting contrast, almost gothic in its aesthetic, but the pink made it look all feminine... yet dark.
And on the bed was a black dress.
I approached it slowly, my fingers reaching out to touch the fabric.
It was silk, or something similar... smooth and cool against my skin.
Black was my color. I could pull this off.
I'd worn black dresses to countless events, felt confident and powerful in them.
But then I noticed the note on the side table.
My hand trembled slightly as I picked it up, recognizing that it was Max's bold handwriting.
"You are my sub... you will do everything that I ask you to do tonight..."
I completely stiffened.
Sub. As in submissive. As in BDSM dynamics and power exchange and things I'd only read about in books or seen referenced in movies with dark leather and handcuffs.
"It's just a kink," I reminded myself out loud... "I knew it was just kinky stuff... Max had scared me as it involved something deeply psychologically damaging... he was just exaggerating things..."
Right. This was just role-play. People do this all the time.
It was just Max being Max...
I picked up the dress and held it against myself, then realized with a jolt that I needed to see the full picture. With shaking hands, I pulled off my clothes and slipped the black dress over my head.
The dress looked like it had been artfully ripped to reveal my body completely... The fabric was paper-thin, almost sheer clinging to every curve of my body.
Everything that was me... every line, every shape... was visible through the delicate material.
It would have been better if I had just not worn anything at all. At least then I wouldn't have this illusion of coverage... this dress was just putting my body on display, making me feel like a doll to be devoured.
I felt shy, exposed, vulnerable in a way I'd never experienced before. My cheeks burned as I stared at my reflection... at the girl in the torn black dress.
But still, it wasn't enough to make me scream and run away.
I would do this.
Whatever Max had planned, whatever game he wanted to play, I would meet him head-on.