Page 56 of The Sterling Acquisition
“Remember that feeling,” Dante said, adopting his professional demeanor again. “Your first kiss. Remember how it felt, how much you wanted more. It’ll give you something to think about while you’re playing compliant for Leo.”
The sound of Leo’s footsteps in the hallway made them both freeze. Orion quickly grabbed his book while Dante settled back into the chair, both of them trying to look like they’d been focused on psychological consultation rather than Dante claiming Orion’s first kiss like a conquering flag.
When Leo knocked and entered, he found them in their respective positions—Dante looking professionally composed despite the triumph singing in his veins, Orion appearing focused on his bookdespite the obvious flush on his cheeks and the way he kept touching his lips.
“How did the session go?” Leo asked hopefully.
“Very productive,” Dante replied, noting how Orion seemed dazed, distracted. “We’re making excellent progress on mapping his psychological responses to new stimuli.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. The improvement in his behavior has been remarkable.”
“I think we’ll see continued progress over the next few days,” Dante said, standing to leave. “The intensive consultation approach seems to be what he needed.”
As he prepared to go, Dante caught Orion’s eye one last time. The defiance was still there, but now it was mixed with confusion, wonder, and unmistakable want.
Good. Let him process that. Let him realize that his first kiss belongs to me now, and wonder what other firsts he might be willing to let me claim.
Two more days until the extraction.
The extraction plan depended on clear heads and perfect timing. But Dante had just claimed Orion’s first kiss, awakening needs that would make both increasingly scarce. As he left the apartment, the taste of Orion still on his lips, Dante wondered which would prove more dangerous to their survival—Morrison’s project or the hunger they’d just unleashed in each other. Either way, the clock was ticking.
Chapter eighteen
Unraveling
Orion
Orionclosedthepre-Adjustmenteconomics textbook with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through Leo’s living room like a gunshot. The harsh corporate lighting emphasized the institutional beige walls and mass-produced furniture that defined SVI’s idea of “luxury” housing. The kitchen still smelled faintly of burned sauce and disappointment.
“Good book?” Leo asked from his position at the dining table, not looking up from the papers he’d been reviewing for the past hour. His words carried the careful pronunciation of someone who’d been drinking steadily since coming home from work. The wine bottle beside him went from full to half-empty, the level dropping with each passing hour.
“Educational,” Orion replied, setting the book aside and reaching for another from the stack Leo had begrudgingly provided. Something about corporate law that would probably be just as depressing as theeconomics text. The books’ spines were pristine—clearly for display rather than regular reading. Another prop in Leo’s attempt to create the illusion of normality.
The domesticity of it all made his skin crawl. Him reading quietly while Leo worked, like they were some functional couple instead of captor and captive. The cleaning he’d done earlier left him feeling hollow and strange—a reminder that his contract had originally been for domestic servitude with claiming rights, not full ownership.
A distinction that mattered less and less each day.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt, making sure it covered the mark Dante left on his collarbone. The bruise was fading but still visible, a dark reminder of teeth and surrender that made something twist in his stomach every time he thought about it. His fingers traced the outline through the fabric, the slight tenderness a physical memory of the moment Dante’s control fractured.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about that fucking kiss. About the way Dante looked at him afterward, like he claimed something precious. That was somehow more unsettling than the bite mark—the gentleness more dangerous than the violence. Physical dominance was something Orion understood and could fight against. But the way his heart raced when Dante’s lips touched his, the breathless confusion afterward... that was unfamiliar territory. It was a weakness he couldn’t afford.
The suppressants were wearing off. He could feel it in the energy building beneath his muscles, the way his senses seemed unnaturally sharp. The fabric of his shirt felt too rough against his sensitive skin. The air in the apartment seemed too thick, too warm, despite the climate control keeping everything at a precise 72 degrees.
Every few minutes, Orion could feel Leo’s eyes on him, the weight of those glances growing heavier each time.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” Orion said, closing the corporate law book. He managed maybe ten pages, his mind too restless to focus on dry legal language. He shifted position, acutely aware of how Leo’s attention tracked the movement.
“Already?” Leo looked up, his expression unfocused. The wine had left a flush across his cheeks and a glassy quality to his eyes. “It’s not that late.”
“Long day.” Orion stood, noting the way Leo’s gaze tracked his movement with uncomfortable intensity. “All that cleaning.”
Leo’s smile was loose, pleased. “You did a good job today. Very... thorough.”
The praise made Orion’s teeth clench, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. His jaw ached with the effort of maintaining the mask of compliance. “Thank you.”
“And the cooking attempt was sweet, even if it didn’t work out.” Leo’s voice carried genuine warmth, the kind that made Orion feel worse than outright cruelty would have. The sincerity in his tone made the situation more twisted—Leo believed they were making progress toward some warped version of domestic harmony. “It’s nice, having you take an interest in... domestic things.”
Domestic things. Like he was a pet learning new tricks. Like his participation in his own captivity was something to be celebrated.
