Deviant Obsession

Chapter 9

Dean

My boots scuff against the concrete outside the club as I light a cigarette, trying to shake off this unfamiliar weight in my chest. The way I dismissed her... fuck . Not my smoothest move. The memory of her face—that flash of hurt before she masked it—keeps replaying behind my eyes.

I take a long drag, watching the smoke curl into the night air. Usually, I prefer clean breaks. I get them hooked, get them off, and then get them gone. But Rhea... The thought of not tasting her submission again makes something dark and possessive twist in my gut.

‘ Just a taste, ’ I'd told myself. What absolute bullshit. One taste isn't going to be nearly enough, not when I can still feel the ghost of her pulse racing beneath my fingers. Not when I know exactly how much deeper her submission could go with the right pushing.

I crush the cigarette under my heel, already plotting. She'll be resistant after the way I ended things, of course. That righteous anger of hers will flare back up. But I saw the truth in her eyes when she surrendered. She needs this just as much as I need to give it to her.

Maybe more.

I'll have to play it carefully, though. I can't come on too strong or she'll bolt like a spooked deer. I need to make her think it's her idea to come back, to submit again. I’ll plant the seed and let it grow until she's desperate for more.

A smile curves my lips as I head for the back entrance. By the time I'm done with her, she'll be begging for everything I have to give her. And this time, I won't make the mistake of pretending it's just a one-time thing.

The back stairs creak beneath my boots as I take them two at a time, still riding the high of conquest. The polished banister feels cool under my palm, grounding me back to reality, though reality has never felt quite this intoxicating before.

I push through the office door to find Ethan hunched over his desk, drowning in paperwork as usual. I offer him a quick “Sup, bro?” before dropping into the plush seat across from him. The city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows paint shadows across his knowing smirk.

"You look pleased with yourself," he says, glancing up from his work. "More than usual, I mean."

I stretch out my legs, unable to contain the predatory grin spreading across my face. The scent of her still clings to my skin. It’s something of flowers, fear, and desperate need all mixed together. "Just had the most interesting encounter downstairs."

That gets his attention. Ethan's pen stills, and he raises his eyes to study me properly. "Do tell," he drawls, leaning back in his chair. "Must have been something special to put that look on your face."

I run my thumb across my bottom lip, still remembering the way Rhea whimpered as I ate her sweet cunt. "Oh, she is. Wandered right into my trap like a perfect little sacrifice. You should have seen her, bro. All wide-eyed innocence consumed by righteous anger until I got my hands on her."

"Sounds dangerous." There's a warning in his tone that I choose to ignore.

"Dangerous is exactly what I'm looking for." I tap my fingers against the arm of the chair, counting out the rhythm of the thumping music below. "She looked terrified when I took her through the main floor. I thought she might bolt any second. But she came round, of course."

Ethan's eyebrows shoot up. "Terrified? And you didn't shut that down immediately?"

"Where's the fun in that?" The office feels too small suddenly, too confined to contain the energy coursing through me. I push to my feet, pacing toward the windows. The city sprawls out below, a maze of lights and shadows. "Besides, the way she asked me for it. Shit , I felt like she was handing me the keys to the city."

The reflection of my brother's face in the glass shows his growing concern. "You're not usually this worked up over a sub."

He's right, and that should probably worry me more than it does. Instead, I press my forehead against the cool glass, watching my breath fog the surface. "There's something about her. The way she fought it, like she was battling herself more than me. And when she finally gave in..." I trail off, remembering the exact moment her resistance crumbled.

"You sound invested," Ethan observes carefully.

I turn back to face him. "Maybe I am. Maybe I want to see just how far I can push her, how completely I can break down those pristine walls she's built."

The overhead lights cast harsh shadows across Ethan's hard features as he studies me. I can see him choosing his next words carefully, weighing them against my volatile mood. The clock on the wall ticks away the seconds of silence between us.

"Just remember," he finally says, "not everyone is built for the kind of games you like to play."

I bare my teeth in what might generously be called a smile. "Trust me, bro. This one is perfect for exactly what I have in mind."

The distant bass thrums louder, as if the club itself is endorsing my plans. I can already picture Rhea bound and begging in some new helpless pose, that stubborn pride shattered beneath my hands. The thought alone is enough to make my blood sing.

"So, tell me more about this perfect prey of yours," Ethan prompts, pulling me from my dark fantasies. "What makes her so special?"

I drop back into the chair, the leather squeaking beneath my sudden weight. "You should have seen the hatred in her eyes when we first met. Like she wanted to set me on fire with her mind." The memory draws a low chuckle from my chest. "But tonight… Well, I still wasn’t sure I could get there at first. And then something switched in her… Like she was bored of fighting. Or too damn curious, I guess. I’m just lucky I was the one in front of her at the time."

"Plenty of subs start out resistant."

"Not like this." I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees. "She's got this...immaculate quality about her. Like fresh snow just waiting for footprints. But underneath..." The image of her biting her lip to hold back a moan flashes through my mind. "There's this darkness inside of her that she's terrified to acknowledge. And I want to drag it into the light."

Ethan's expression shifts, something knowing flickering behind his eyes. "You've never been this caught up in someone's psychological landscape before. Usually, it's just about the playtime for you."

"Usually, it is." I run a hand through my hair, still slightly damp with sweat from earlier. "But watching her fight herself, watching that pristine exterior crack open to reveal all that raw need underneath..." I trail off, suddenly nervous that Ethan will catch on to just how obsessed I am. "It was fucking beautiful." I mutter, almost to myself.

"Beautiful enough to hook up more than once?" There's genuine surprise in his voice now. "That's not like you at all."

The dig hits closer to home than I'd like to admit. "Maybe I'm evolving," I deflect with a smirk, but we both know there's more to it than that.

"Or maybe she's gotten under your skin."

I shift restlessly, uncomfortable with how easily my brother can read me. "There's just something about her, dude. The way she tried to maintain that holier-than-thou attitude even while her body was betraying her." My voice drops lower, rougher. "The little sounds she made when she finally gave in?—"

"You're doing it again," Ethan interrupts.

"Doing what?"

"Getting that look. Like you're already planning how to devour her whole."

I can't exactly deny it. The need to possess her completely, to break down every barrier she's ever built, burns through my veins like wildfire. "Maybe I am. Maybe I want to see just how deep that darkness of hers really goes."

"And what happens when you find out?"

The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with accusation. Ethan’s not one to let me forget my past… carelessness when it comes to playthings.

"Then I'll push her further," I say finally, growling through clenched teeth. "Until I’m satisfied. Until I’m done playing."

Ethan sighs, pinching his nose between his fingers. "You're playing with fire."

"Good thing I've always liked getting burned." The grin I flash him is all teeth and predatory intent. "Besides, you didn't see the way she responded. It was like she's been waiting her whole life for someone to show her exactly how sweet submission can taste. You’d feel exactly the same if she’d been in your hands."

"Dean." Ethan's tone shifts, taking on that familiar edge of authority that usually makes me want to roll my eyes. "We need to talk about boundaries. Responsibility."

"Christ, not this again." I sprawl deeper into the chair, but there's no escaping the weight of his icy stare. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" He leans forward, hands clasped on the desk between us. "Because it sounds like you're getting carried away with the power rush and forgetting everything Dad taught us."

The mention of our ex-stepdad has me averting my gaze, a cold sliver of guilt sluicing down my spine. Memories surface unbidden—hours spent in this very office, Dad drilling the finer points of power exchange into our thick skulls.

"A Dom's first responsibility is to his submissive's wellbeing," I recite mockingly. "Both physical and emotional. I remember the lectures."

"Then start acting like it." Ethan's voice carries the same stern power Dad used to wield, and still does when he thinks we need it. "Especially with an inexperienced sub. You can't just?—"

"Push her straight into the deep end?" I interrupt. "Watch her struggle until she either swims or drowns?"

"This isn't a joke, Dean."

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" The cold edge in my voice surprises even me. "I know what I'm doing. I can read her responses, gauge her limits."

"It's not just about physical limits." Ethan runs a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "The mental impact of intense scenes?—"

"Can forge deeper connections than vanilla play ever could," I finish. "Dad's words, not mine. Or did you forget that part of the lectures?"

The silence stretches between us again. Finally, Ethan sighs. "Just...be careful with her. A bad experience can break more than just trust."

Something tightens in my chest at his words. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't remember everything he taught us about safe, sane, and consensual?"

"I think you get caught up in the chase sometimes," he says, a cautious edge in voice. "In the thrill of breaking down resistance. And from what you've told me about this girl?—"

"Rhea," I supply, the name falling from my lips before I can stop it.

"Rhea," he echoes, giving me a pointed look. "She needs a guided introduction to this world, not a full immersion baptism by fire."

I close my eyes, remembering the heat of her flushed skin under my touch. Not just from fear or arousal, but from the overwhelming rush of discovering parts of herself she'd never dared acknowledge.

"Yeah, okay," I mutter, waving off his concern. "I remember the responsibility speech just as well as you do. 'A true Dom finds satisfaction in his sub's pleasure, not just his own.'"

"And do you?" Ethan challenges. "Find satisfaction in her pleasure?"

"More than I probably should," I admit quietly. “But you know me, I’ll always get my girl off plenty of times before I even whip my dick out. I’m not exactly what you’d call selfish .”

Ethan studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. "Just remember what Dad always says… It's not about breaking them, it's about helping them break free."

"Jeez, you sound like you wanna be his carbon copy." But there's no real heat in my words. The weight of responsibility settles over my shoulders like a familiar cloak, grounding me even as it chafes.

"Someone has to keep you in line," he grumbles, but there's a hint of smile now. "Especially when you're deep in the game."

"Trust me," I say, cracking my neck. "This is one player I don’t intend to leave high and dry."

"Right… Speaking of playing," Ethan switches gears, pulling a folder from his desk. "The Shibari demonstration next month. Are we confirmed with Jade for the modeling?"

I barely hear him, my mind already drifting back to my new toy. The image of Rhea bound in intricate patterns floods my consciousness… Bright red rope against pale skin.

"Dean?" Ethan snaps his fingers. "Focus for just a second, will you?"

"Yeah, Jade's good to go." I drag my attention back to business, though the fantasy lingers. "Standard demonstration format—basic patterns building to advanced. Full suspension for the finale."

The bass from downstairs has shifted to something deeper now, slower, more primal. It matches the thrumming of my thoughts as I stand to examine the sketches laid out on Ethan's desk. Complex knot work and rope placement diagrams blur together as I imagine different patterns, different positions with her.

"We should showcase the chest harness variations," I say, tracing one pattern with my finger. "The aesthetic appeal draws them in, but it's the psychological element that hooks them."

"The vulnerability of it," Ethan agrees. "The trust required to let someone bind you so completely."

Trust.

The word echoes in my mind as I picture Rhea's defiant eyes. How long would it take to earn that level of surrender from her? To have her willingly offer herself up for my rope work, my knots, my ultimate control?

A Saint Andrew’s Cross is one thing…but full-body Shibari? Suspension even? That might take some convincing.

Then again, she was so eager…

"The lecture should cover the emotional impact too," I hear myself saying. "How the rope becomes an extension of the Dom's touch. Each knot a point of connection, each pattern a silent claim of ownership."

Ethan's knowing look tells me he sees right through my professional facade. "Thinking about a private demonstration already?"

"Maybe." I don't bother denying it. The image is too potent to ignore—Rhea suspended in my ropes, completely at my mercy. "The contrast would be... striking ."

"You're getting that look again."

I ignore him, lost in the fantasy. I'd start slow, of course. Simple chest harness first, watching her breath quicken as each rope pulls tight. Then moving lower, binding her arms behind her back, leaving her completely exposed to my touch. The hemp would bite into her flesh just enough to leave marks, temporary brands of possession that she'd feel for days.

"Earth to Dean," Ethan interrupts my thoughts. "Should we discuss safety protocols for the demonstration?"

"I know you’ve got it covered for the Doms," I reply absently, still seeing Rhea in my mind's eye. "Jade will lay it all out for the subs before they let themselves get caught up in any dangerous knots."

"You're impossible when you're like this," Ethan sighs, but I barely hear him.

I move to the window again, staring out at the city lights while darker visions play in my mind. I'd take my time with her, savoring each small surrender. Every gasp, every tremor, every reluctant moan would be a victory. And when I finally suspended her completely, she’d be a work of art.

For my eyes only.

"I'm heading down to check on the club," Ethan announces, gathering his papers in manic frustration. "Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find my own unicorn sub while you’re up here floating in cuckoo land. Doesn’t seem fair to let you have all the fun."

I don’t care that he’s bitter. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with my fantasies. The window’s glass is cool against my forehead as I close my eyes, letting the full force of desire wash over me. Soon enough, I'll have her bound and begging, those walls crumbling all over again under the weight of her own dark needs.

Soon enough, she'll learn to crave it just as much as I crave her submission.

Once I convince her to come back, that is.