Chapter 29 Vince #2

This. This right here was the part that made me dangerous. Not the way she came for me or the way she whispered Daddy. That was ours, private and holy.

It was this softness the rest of the world didn’t see. This ridiculous, pure joy over shoes and reality TV and matching hair bows. The way she got worked up over someone else’s heartbreak, because her own was still so raw she had to pour it somewhere else.

She realised I was quiet and paused mid-sentence, suspicious.

“You’re staring again.”

“I’m in love. There’s overlap.” I hesitated, fuck crow, she is about to see just how possessive you are. “I got you something.”

I reached beside the couch and pulled out the slim black case. Matte leather, no logo, just a small silver Crow pressed into the corner. Luxury, but quiet. Exactly how I wanted this part of us to live.

Her gaze caught on it. “What’s that?”

“A travel kit. For when you insist on leaving my city.”

She didn’t take it at first, just looked between my face and the case like it might bite.

“What kind of travel kit.”

“The kind that makes it marginally less unbearable that you’re in Harlan and I’m not.” I flipped the clasp and opened it between us.

Inside, nestled in dark foam, were three pieces. Smooth, high-end, discreet. No neon plastic, no cheap chrome. Soft matte curves, subtle metal accents, the sort of tech you could mistake for art if you didn’t know better.

“Vince…” Her breath hitched.

“The small one is for warming up. Gentle. You use that when I tell you to. The centre one…” My jaw flexed. “Is custom moulded. My dick. If something’s going inside you when I’m not there, it’s going to be the closest thing to me we can build.”

Colour flooded her face, all the way to her ears. “You—you did that?”

“Yeah, baby. Went to a very expensive, very discreet man with very steady hands. You gave me your first time. No one else gets to take my place while you’re away. Not fingers, toys. If you need more than your hand when you’re out of my bed, you use mine. Understood?”

She swallowed hard, nodding before she remembered I wanted words. “Yes, Daddy.”

Good girl.

“And this one,” I tapped the last piece, the sleekest of the set, “is smart tech. Link-coded to your phone and mine. I control it. Levels, patterns, timer. You don’t touch a single setting unless I give you permission.”

She stared like she was trying to decide whether to climb into my lap or the nearest safe room.

“You’re serious.”

“Completely. Rules are simple. One, you don’t use anything in this case without me, or without explicit written orders from me.

Two, you don’t let anyone else see it, touch it, or even know it exists.

This is ours. Three, if you’re struggling, sleep, stress, missing me, your first move is to tell me.

Not to reach for this without my voice.”

“I thought this was supposed to make being apart easier,” she whispered.

“It does. Because I know exactly what’s touching you. Me. Because you know I’m there, even if it’s just a vibration on your skin and my voice in your ear. And every time you open this case, you remember you belong to someone who is thinking three moves ahead about your body.”

“What if I break a rule.”

“Then we address it. With conversation first. Consequences if you need the reminder.”

A startled laugh broke out of her. “Only you could turn sex toys into a hostile takeover lecture.”

“Not toys,” I corrected. “Tools. For my girl. Designed by me. Shaped by my cock. Paid for by me. Used when and how I say. Because I’m possessive and a little crazy about you, and I’m not pretending otherwise.”

Her fingers lifted, hovering over the edge of the case. She didn’t quite touch anything.

“You like it?” I asked.

“I… love it. I don’t even have language for how much this is doing to me.”

“Good.” I shut the case gently and pressed it into her hands. “You keep that in your luggage. Not under your bed where some Thorne housekeeper can gossip. And when I message you case, now, you listen. Clear?”

“Yes, Daddy,” her voice was softer this time.

My Crow gloated. My girl. My sub. Mine even when she was halfway across a continent with men I wanted to disappear.

“Now,” I caught her hand and kissing her knuckles. “You still owe me something.”

She blinked, playing innocent. “Do I.”

“You skipped your morning check-in. That’s a serious offence in this dynamic.” My fingers found the back of her knee. “You promised I could see in person what I missed on my phone.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “That.”

“Yes, that.”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip. Her gaze flicked toward the bedroom, then back to me.

“You want to eat first. Or talk more. Or—”

“Madeline.”

Her spine straightened at the sound of her name in that tone. She met my gaze properly, breath a little faster.

“What did you promise me.”

“That you could… see. When you took my dress off.”

“What kind of dom would I be if I didn’t hold you to your word.”

Her cheeks flushed. “An understanding one.”

“I’m very understanding that my sub has been sending me photos that have ruined me for two weeks, then climbed on a jet with another man instead of letting Daddy see her this morning.

I understand that Veil has had more angles of you this week than I have.

And I understand that I have forty-eight hours to remind you who you belong to. ”

Her lips parted.

I leaned in, my mouth brushing her ear. “So no, baby. We are not eating first.” I brushed her hair back. “You’re going to stand up, walk into my bedroom in those ridiculous heels, and let me take my time unwrapping what’s mine.”

Her head tipped back against the cushion, eyes falling shut for one second.

When she opened them, they were darker. I kissed her once, slow and deep, letting her feel all of my love, the kind of possessiveness that wasn’t about cages but about keeping her alive and adored in a world that wanted to eat her.

Then I stood and held out my hand.

“Up, baby. Show Daddy what Atticus didn’t get to see.”

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