Page 162 of Bound By Her

“Golden boy, I didn’t sell you to Jonathan and I’m not going to. Just go back to your brothers. I’ll make sure you guys find a safe home. I just…Don’t have the energy for this.”

Bryson’s mind raced. Adria didn’t want to admit it, but she had protected them.

Guilt crept into his gut.

“Hey, did I fucking stutter? Get out.” Adria’s voice was sharp, cutting through the charged air. She pointed at the door, her stance rigid with defiance.

Bryson didn’t spare the door a glance. He only had eyes for her.

He told Seth he was doing this for her. Elena had suggested they be trained.

No, not suggested. She had point blank reprimanded him for his behavior at the preview and reiterated any further sabotage would put Adria directly in the Triune’s cross hairs. But that wasn’t the only reason he was here.

Bryson always understood people.

Knew what made them tick. How to take them apart and put them back together with his eyes closed.

But Adria?

She had been the one todisassembleandreassemblehim.

His body craved her. A need that only grew with each passing day without her. He needed to see her, feel her, to quench that fire.

“At Club Shale, I felt something. I know you felt it, too. It was like we were one.”

He inwardly rolled his eyes. Fuck, he sounded pathetic. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

He tried again. “I’ll do anything you say, be anything you want. Just try. Please.”

“Great. Get out.”

He didn’t move. “Anything but that,Mistress.”

The word was foreign on his tongue, as necessary as it was uncomfortable.

“Do not call me that. I’m not your Mistress.”

She was angry, and he would take that over the despondency she’d been carrying for weeks.

So, he pushed. Just a little.

“Yes, you are. You are Mistress Adria, one of the most renowned male slave trainers on the East Coast. Buyers come from all over the world for your expertise.”

Her jaw tightened. Good. Better than empty silence.

He pressed forward. “And despite your reputation—and my previously held assumptions—you don’t force anyone.”

Working with Eric had proved it. Most of her business dealings were legit.

Down to the line of men who willingly signed up for this shit.

Bryson and his brothers were the first unwilling participants she had ever housed.

And that changed everything.

No drugs. Minimal gambling.

The smuggling was soft stuff—art, cars, high-end luxuries.

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