Page 30 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

He chuckles, low and knowing, his thumb drifting lower, tracing the line of my jaw. “I like darker things,” he whispers, his voice laced with wicked promise. “Things we’ll explore later… if you’re interested.”

My breath catches. Not from embarrassment. Not from uncertainty. From something else entirely.

Recognition.

I’ve dabbled before. Tried. But the so-called Doms had been boys playing at control, their dominance surface-level, their commands rehearsed, their touch more about performance than power.

I meet his gaze, my pulse hammering, my body already responding in ways I don’t bother to hide. “I’m… interested indarker things,” I admit softly, surprised by my candor. “And I might be interested in exploring that with you.”

His eyes flare, approval and hunger woven together. “Might be?”

I lick my lips, breath unsteady. “Yes.”

Something dangerous flashes behind his gaze—satisfaction. Anticipation. Like he’s been waiting for that confirmation.

“Sometimes Hank has to talk me down.”

“I’m not afraid.” A shiver rolls through me, sharp and electric, not fear but excitement.

“Come on, you two.” Hank’s voice slides in, smooth but edged with amusement. “Plenty of time for that.” He moves past, his fingers brushing my wrist in a way that’s both grounding and possessive—a silent reminder of who’s in charge here.

Then Hank levels a look at Gabe, one brow arching, lips curving in that slow, knowing way.

“Let’s establish trust and boundaries before you scare her off with whips and chains.” A smirk tugs at his lips, teasing, but an unmistakable thread of authority is beneath it.

“I have a feeling she’s more interested than scared.”

“Back down, Gabe.”

It’s not an order, not exactly. More of a well-worn game between them, a push-and-pull that feels like second nature.

Gabe huffs a laugh, lifting his hands in mock surrender, but the wicked gleam in his eyes doesn’t dim.

“Are you scared, sweetheart?”

“Not even a little.” I swallow, heat curling low in my stomach.

Hank chuckles, shaking his head like he saw that coming a mile away.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, amused. “You’re going to be trouble.” His gaze flicks to me, assessing, teasing. “Word of warning, luv—don’t need to encourage him. Gabe’s got enough bad ideas rattling around in his head without you adding fuel to the fire.”

Gabe grins, unrepentant.

Hank sighs, but there’s no real exasperation behind it—just amusement, threaded with something else, something warmer. He watches me for a second longer, eyes unreadable, then jerks his chin toward the door.

“Come on, before Gabe decides to put you through your paces with a full demonstration.”

Gabe smirks. “Don’t tempt me.”

Hank nudges my chin with a knuckle, his touch brief, but his meaning clear. “Let’s show her outside first.”

For the first time in days, my body thrums with something more than fear, more than anxiety.

Anticipation.

I don’t plan on pretending otherwise.

“Unapologetic,” Gabe mouths with a slight smirk, referencing his earlier words.

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