Page 63 of Influence

Slowly, I peeled off my slacks, each movement deliberate as our gazes remained locked. In that moment, she lay there, vulnerable yet defiant, a blend of softness and stubborn strength.

“What room are we in, Laya?” I asked, half-teasing, half-urgent.

“What?” she answered, panting.

“No, I mean, which room is this?” I pressed further.

With an exasperated eye roll, she replied, “The bedroom.”

“Good girl,” I praised, knowing it would prickle at her temper.

She lifted her chin, refusing to back down. “I’m not a girl anymore.”

“Oh, right,” I nodded slowly. “Because I made you a woman, didn’t I?”

She scoffed, and I reached down, letting my fingertips trace the sensitive skin of her throat possessively.

“Tell me, darling, how did I do that?” I asked, my grip gentle yet firm.

Her annoyance very evident, she shot back, “With your cock.”

“Where exactly?” I urged.

“In my pussy,” she admitted, offering the exact confession I craved, even though I knew her defiance only fueled the fire between us.

A smirk danced on my lips as I released her neck and regained my dominant position.

“That’s right,” I murmured. “And what did I remind you about our bedroom? When we’re in here, to whom do you belong?”

“Niko, is this necessary?” she exclaimed, revealing emotions that were a blend of exasperation and desperate yearning. “Do we need to play these games?”

I let my slacks drop away, stepping out purposefully as every part of me responded to the moment. Her gaze dropped, filled with heated anticipation as she took in every detail of my exposed desire.

Closing the gap between us, I positioned myself above her, our bodies aligned as I leaned in closely, a sultry whisper tinged with authority.

“So I need to remind you of your place in this relationship, Laya? From this position, it appears I do,” I said with an underlying threat. “Judging by your behavior, you’ve lost sight of who holds the power around here.”

“You’re absurd!” she shot back, pressing against my chest in vigorous protest.

But I remained unmoved.

“Must I keep reminding you who holds the reins in this room?” I pressed, challenging, and unyielding.

Before she could answer, I captured her mouth once again, silencing her protest as my tongue plunged in, hot, wet, and unapologetically fierce, in a passionate dance.

A whimper and the urgency of her kiss only fueled the flames within me.

Then suddenly, in a moment of raw rebellion, she bit down on my tongue, drawing a thin ribbon of blood that mingled with our passion. I recoiled slightly as shock and the sharp, metallic taste of blood momentarily halted my advance.

She gazed upward, her jeweled irises flared with outrage, ready to scorch me alive. “You don’t own me, Niko. You never will.”

“You little vixen,” I hissed, touching my now-bloodstained mouth, and could only marvel at her challenge.

A flicker of amusement danced over her features, adding to my determination to tame and worship her.

I allowed my gaze to wander slowly over her face and body, absorbing every seductive detail with a hunger so ravenous, I knew it would never be quenched.

Sitting on her hips, I slowly shook my head and warned, “You’re going to regret that, Laya.”

---