Page 36 of Stranded with the Resort Owner

"You made it feel natural. Like breathing. Like giving myself to you was the most instinctive thing I've ever done."

My voice thins to a whisper.

"You made me feel whole, and that terrified me. I wanted it too much."

He exhales, barely.

I step forward. "If punishment is what you need to layer on top of that—if hurting me made it easier to swallow what happened—I wouldn't have stopped you. I won't."

"Don't say that." His voice cuts like steel.

I blink, stunned by the sharpness.

"Why not?" I whisper. "Why can't I say it?"

He doesn't answer right away. His jaw clenches. Shoulders tense. Like he's holding something back with both hands.

"You know why."

"No." I say, stepping toward him. "I don't."

His gaze lifts to mine—and it's fierce. Not angry. Not cold.

But feral.

"Because power without control—isn't control at all."

His voice echoes in the quiet, and the words hit like a warning and a wound all at once.

I don't breathe. I just stare at him, waiting—dreading—what comes next.

"I punished you in that elevator." He says, voice flat. His eyes meet mine, and there's no shame in them—only honesty. Brutal, raw honesty. "I meant for it to hurt."

My stomach twists.

"I wanted you to feel it." He goes on, steady now. "Not just the sex. The shame. The consequences. I wanted you to regret what you said. And I used your body to deliver that message."

I can't look away.

"But the mistake wasn't the act." He says. "It was that I didn't have the right to punish you."

His throat works like the words are clawing on their way out.

"You hadn't given me that yet. That trust. That surrender. The kind where punishment means something more than pain." He steps closer, eyes locked on mine. "I claimed something I hadn't earned. I crossed a line, not because you didn't consent—but because I hadn't been given authority to correct. And I took it anyway. It doesn't matter that you gave it after the fact."

My chest tightens—my pulse hammers in my throat.

"And that." He finishes softly. "Is what I can't return from."

The breath whooshes from my lungs.

He looks at me then. No armor. No masks.

Just him.

"That's not control." He says. "That's cruelty wearing the same skin."

I open my mouth, but the words catch. Stumble.

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