16: A Test of Submission
16: A Test of Submission
POV – Ava
“If I remember… I’ll die?” I whispered.
Dante didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t have to.
I staggered back, my heart racing.
I had chosen Dante.
I had tied myself to him.
And now, I might have just sealed my own fate.
\---------------------
I couldn’t sleep.
Dante’s words played on a loop in my mind.
"If you remember who you were… you may not survive it."
I lay in the massive bed, tangled in silk sheets that felt too cold, too empty without him.
Because tonight, for the first time in weeks, he hadn’t touched me.
He hadn’t claimed me, hadn’t whispered dirty promises against my skin.
Instead, he had left me alone with my thoughts.
And I was drowning in them.
I threw off the covers, pacing barefoot across the room, my mind racing.
I needed something real.
Something that reminded me that I was here, now—not some ghost of a woman from another lifetime.
I needed Dante.
Dante pov
I heard her before I saw her.
The soft rustle of fabric. The hesitant shuffle of bare feet against the floor.
And then, she was there—standing in the doorway, wrapped in nothing but my black silk robe.
Her eyes burned with something wild.
I knew that look.
A woman desperate to reclaim control.
To forget.
To be unmade.
I stayed where I was, sitting in the leather chair by the window, watching her in the dim moonlight.
She took a slow, steady breath. “I need you.”
My grip on the armrest tightened.
I knew what she was asking.
And I knew she didn’t truly understand what she was inviting.
But if she wanted to forget?
Then I would make damn sure she had nothing left to remember.
\-------------
The Test Begins
POV – Ava
Dante stood, moving with that predatory grace that made my knees go weak.
“You need me?” he murmured. “Or do you just need an escape?”
My throat tightened.
I didn’t know the answer.
But I didn’t care.
I reached for him, but he caught my wrist midair, twisting it gently behind my back.
I gasped, my pulse slamming against my ribs.
Dante tut-tutted, his lips grazing my temple.
“No touching tonight, little one.”
My stomach clenched. “Dante—”
He spun me around, pressing me against the cool glass window.
The city lights stretched below us, a world away.
Here, I was his.
Here, there was only him.
A silk blindfold slid over my eyes, casting me into darkness.
And then—the first touch.
A featherlight brush along my spine.
A soft kiss against my shoulder.
I shivered.
“Do you trust me?” His voice was a sinful whisper.
I nodded.
“Words.”
“Yes,” I breathed.
The click of metal.
Then, cool leather circled my wrists, binding them behind my back.
And my body thrummed with anticipation.
Dante pov
I had never denied her before.
Never teased her to the edge without giving her what she craved.
But tonight?
Tonight, she would learn patience.
She would learn that her pleasure belonged to me.
I dragged my hands down her arms, my nails grazing her sensitive skin.
Ava squirmed, her breath hitching.
I smirked.
Good.
I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear.
“You don’t get to come unless I say so.”
She let out a soft, frustrated sound, tugging against the restraints.
I chuckled darkly.
“Oh, little one… we’re just getting started.”
\--------------
A Game of Control
POV – Ava
Every touch was a torment.
Dante’s hands were everywhere and nowhere.
A brush of his fingers against my inner thigh.
A kiss along my hipbone.
A slow, excruciating glide of his tongue across my pulse.
But he never gave me what I needed.
I whimpered, arching toward him, desperate for more.
“Please,” I gasped.
Dante hummed in approval, his lips curving against my skin.
“But you don’t even know what you’re asking for,” he murmured.
He pressed his knee between my legs, spreading them wider.
And then—nothing.
The loss of contact was infuriating.
I let out a frustrated cry.
Dante chuckled, smug.
“Do you know what I love about this?” he mused.
I swallowed. “What?”
He gripped my chin, tilting my head back.
“That no matter how strong you think you are—” his lips brushed mine, but didn’t kiss me— “you’ll always break for me.”
I trembled.
Because he was right.
I was breaking.
And he had only just begun.
\---------------
The Edge of Submission
Dante trailed one hand down my stomach, lower, lower—
I gasped, twisting against the restraints, needing more.
But just as I thought he would finally touch me where I needed him most—
He pulled away.
I let out a cry of frustration.
Dante laughed, brushing my hair back from my flushed face.
“Not yet.”
I was shaking, panting, utterly at his mercy.
Dante lifted my blindfold, his blue eyes blazing with wicked satisfaction.
“You did well,” he murmured.
I blinked, dazed. “What?”
He smirked, releasing my wrists.
“You lasted longer than I thought.”
I stared at him, breathless, undone.
That was it?
That was all I got?
I opened my mouth to curse him, to beg, to demand he finish what he started.
But before I could—
A soft knock echoed from the door.
I tensed.
Dante frowned. “What the—”
He moved toward the door, opening it just enough to snatch the envelope that had been slipped underneath.
His eyes darkened as he scanned the note.
I forced my legs to work, stepping beside him, my heart racing.
Because I recognized the elegant, dangerous script.
Lucien.
"I can give you the answers he won’t."
Dante’s fingers crushed the letter in his fist.
His jaw ticked.
And beside him, I couldn’t stop shaking.
Because I wasn’t sure who I feared more anymore.
Dante.
Or Lucien.