Page 67 of Bad Girl Dilemma

Just two people on the edge of war—choosing to fighttogether.

CHAPTER 16

Dahlia

Before I understood its true meaning, before I ventured onto The Club app, I thought surrender meant weakness. That giving in meant giving up control. And I’ve fought my whole life to keep control—over my body, my choices, my mind. But with Dante, tonight, finally… Iwantto give it away.All the way. Not because I’ve lost a fight. But because I’ve earned my surrender. He told me I would. I scoffed.

Now I want to weep with the weight of how right he was. Because surrendering to him doesn’t feel like defeat—it feels like coming home.

He leans against the frame of the bedroom door, arms crossed, black shirt rolled to his forearms. Watching me. Assessing. Waiting to see if I’ll back out. I don't. I drop to my knees on the hardwood floor without a word.

The moment I do, I feel him move. Boots silent on the mat. The click of the lock as he seals the door. A low exhale—almostlike relief—as he circles me like a wolf claiming his prey. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice a rumble against the walls. “So fucking beautiful like this. Humbled. Open. Ready.” My breath shudders. I’m naked except for the collar. It’s become a part of me. Not a leash. Not a prison. A promise.

His fingers tangle in my hair. I don’t look up. I’m the obedient, treasured little pet, eager to earn my reward. “Why are you kneeling, little thief?”

“Because I want to give you everything,” I whisper. He tilts my head back. “Look at me.”

I reward myself with his beautiful eyes, sharp but unreadable. “Not because you’re afraid of what I’ll do if you don’t?”

“No, Sir.”

“Not because it’s part of the plan?”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“I’m kneeling because I trust you. I’m kneeling because you’ve earned it. I’m kneeling because I need to know I’ve earned it.”

The world holds its breath.

And then he drops to his haunches in front of me. “You have no idea what that does to me.” I lick my lips. Craving his. Craving everything. “Maybe… I think I do.”

His hands are warm as he unfastens the collar.

“No! Wait…”

“Shhh, hush, little thief.”

I hush. Heart racing. And it’s just for a second. And several lifetimes. Just long enough to replace it with something heavier. A chain. Attached to his thick wrist. Oh… God. The sound of the lock echoes like thunder.

He kisses my mouth—slow and filthy, tongue stroking mine. When he pulls back, I’m dizzy. Bliss-filled. He stands and points to the padded bench.

“Crawl.”

I do. And his eyes track me every inch of the way until I reach him.

“On your back. Arms over your head.”

The restraints click into place—tight but careful. Then he ties my ankles apart. Exposed. Vulnerable.His.

“You’re so wet I can smell it,” he growls, running his hand up my thigh, over my center. I arch. He doesn't touch me where I need him most. Not yet.

“I’m going to mark you,” he says. “Not with ink. Not with bruises. But withmemory. So you never forget who made you come like this.”

I don’t realize I’m whimpering until he smirks.

He starts with his mouth.

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