Chapter 13 #2
His expression makes my breath catch.
"Eden," he breathes.
"Is it okay?"
"You're perfect. Absolutely perfect. They're going to see you walk in wearing that and know exactly what I'm giving up. Know exactly how much you're worth."
"I don't want them to see me as an acquisition."
"They won't. They'll see you as the woman who was worth more than their entire world. The woman who made me realize power means nothing without someone to share it with."
He crosses to me, cups my face and kisses me with a tenderness that makes my chest ache.
"I love you," he says against my lips.
"I love you too."
"Are you scared? About what's coming?"
"Terrified. But also—" I stop.
"Also what?"
"Also ready. Ready to face them. Ready to burn it down. Ready to start something new with you."
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his hands sliding into my hair, and I realize something.
We've done everything else. Commands and training and oral sex and his fingers inside me.
But we haven't done this.
Haven't made love.
Haven't had actual penetrative sex.
Because that was supposed to be saved.
For after the showcase.
After I'd proven myself, after he'd joined the inner circle.
But the showcase isn't happening. Not the way it was supposed to.
So maybe—
"Vaughn," I whisper against his mouth.
"Yes?"
"I want you. Actually want you. Not because I'm trained or because you're commanding me. But because I want to feel you inside me. Want to be with you completely before we face the Consortium. Want—"
"Are you sure?" He pulls back to look at me. "You don't have to. We can wait. We can—"
"I'm sure. I want this. Want you. Please."
Something shifts in his expression. Heat and love and possession all mixed together.
"Then let's take off this dress," he says. "Before I ruin it."
He undresses me slowly, reverently.
The silk dress pools at my feet.
My bra is unhooked with careful fingers.
My panties slide down my legs with deliberate patience.
Until I'm standing naked in front of him, shivering despite the warmth of the room.
Not from the cold.
From what’s about to happen.
"You're sure?" he asks again.
"Yes. I'm sure. I want this. Want you."
He strips off his own clothes with less patience. And then we're both naked. Both vulnerable. Both standing at the edge of something that will change everything.
He picks me up and carries me to the bed.
Lays me down on the sheets with a gentleness that makes tears prick my eyes.
"I've been preparing you for this," he says, settling beside me. "My fingers inside you all those times—that was to make sure you could take me without too much pain. But it's still going to hurt a little. Your first time always does."
"I know."
"If it's too much, if you need me to stop—"
"I'll tell you. I trust you."
The words seem to affect him deeply. "You trust me."
"Yes. Completely."
He kisses me then.
Deep and slow and thorough.
His hands map my body like he's memorizing every curve, every response.
Finding all the places that make me gasp.
All the touches that make me arch into him.
Building heat. Building need.
Building arousal until I'm wet and desperate and begging without words.
"Please," I finally whisper. "Please, Vaughn, I need—"
"I know what you need." He settles between my thighs. "But first I need to make sure you're ready. Really ready."
His fingers slide inside me.
Two, then three.
Stretching me. Preparing me. Making sure my body can accommodate him.
I'm gasping. Moving against his hand. So close to the edge already.
"That's it," he encourages. "Let yourself feel it. Let yourself want it. You're so beautiful like this, Eden. So perfect."
"Please," I beg. "Please, I'm ready, I need you inside me, need to feel you—"
"Soon." He withdraws his fingers and positions himself at my entrance. "Look at me."
I meet his eyes.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you too."
"This is going to change everything."
"I know."
"We can't go back after this."
"I don't want to go back. I want to move forward. I want you."
He pushes inside slowly. Just the tip. Letting me adjust to the stretch.
It burns. It's more than his fingers. Bigger. Fuller. Almost too much.
But not quite.
"Breathe," he instructs. "Just breathe through it. Your body knows what to do."
I breathe. Force myself to relax. Let my body adjust to the intrusion.
He pushes deeper. Inch by careful inch. Watching my face. Reading every reaction.
"Okay?" he asks when he's halfway in.
"Yes. Keep going. Don't stop."
He pushes the rest of the way in one smooth motion. Fills me completely.
Seats himself so deep I can feel him everywhere.
I cry out. From the burn and the stretch and the overwhelming fullness.
"Shh," he soothes. "I know. I know it's a lot. Just breathe. Just let your body adjust."
He stays completely still.
Lets me get used to him.
Lets the burn fade to something else.
Something that feels almost good.
No—something that feels incredible.
"Okay," I finally say. "Okay, you can move."
He pulls back slowly, pushes back in just as carefully and sets a gentle rhythm that lets me feel every inch of him.
And oh God.
This is nothing like his fingers.
Nothing like the vibrator.
Nothing like anything I've ever felt.
This is fullness and connection and intimacy so complete it makes my chest ache.
This is making love.
"Eden," he groans against my neck. "You feel—you feel incredible. So tight. So perfect. Like you were made for me."
"Maybe I was," I gasp. "Maybe everything—the Sanctuary, the auction, all of it—maybe it was all leading to this. To you. To us."
"I don't deserve you."
"Yes, you do. We deserve each other."
He moves faster, deeper.
Finding a rhythm that makes me arch and gasp and cling to him.
One hand slides between us and finds my clit.
He circles it in time with his thrusts.
Building pressure. Building pleasure. Building toward something I can feel approaching like a tidal wave.
"I'm close," I gasp. "Vaughn, I'm so close—"
"Come for me. Let me feel you come around me. Let me feel you fall apart."
His thumb presses harder against my clit.
His cock hits something deep inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
And I shatter.
The orgasm tears through me with an intensity that makes me scream.
Makes my body convulse around him.
Makes everything disappear except the pleasure and him and us.
"Fuck," he groans. "Eden, I'm—"
"Come inside me," I beg. "Please, I want to feel it, want all of you—"
So when he comes—when he buries himself deep and spills inside me with a groan that sounds like my name—there's nothing between us.
Nothing separating us.
Just two people completely joined.
Completely connected.
Completely in love.
Afterward, we lie tangled together in sheets that smell like sex and us.
I'm crying.
I don't know when I started.
Don't know if it's from the intensity or the emotion or the sheer overwhelming reality of what just happened.
"Hey," he says softly, wiping my tears. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
"No. I'm perfect. That was—" I can't find words. "I didn't know it could be like that."
"Like what?"
"Beautiful."
"That's what it's supposed to be. When it's with the right person."
"Have you—" I stop. Not sure I want to know.
"Have I what?"
"Have you felt that with other people? Or was this—"
"This was different. I've had sex before, Eden. But I've never made love until you."
The words make fresh tears spill over.
"I love you so much," I whisper.
"I love you too. More than I thought I could love anyone. More than power or money or the Consortium's approval. You're everything to me. I hope you know that."
We stay like that for a long time.
Just holding each other, being together.
Eventually, he speaks again. "Tomorrow is the showcase."
Reality crashes back.
"I know."
"Last chance to back out. We could just not go. We could disappear tonight. Pack up and leave before they have a chance to retaliate."
"No."
"No?"
"No. We face them. We tell them you're choosing me. We burn it down on our terms."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. Are you?"
He's quiet for a moment. "I have a moment of doubt."
"Tell me."
"I'm giving up everything I've worked for.
Everything I've built toward for five years.
Everything I thought I needed to be safe.
And I'm giving it up for—for what? For a woman I bought at an auction two months ago?
For someone who might wake up one day and realize she never really loved me, just trauma-bonded to her captor? "
The admission hangs between us.
"You think I might not really love you," I say quietly.
"I think it's possible. I think Stockholm syndrome is real. I think trauma bonding is real. And I think it's possible that what we feel right now might not survive once you're actually free. Once you have real choices instead of just the illusion of choice."
"So, you're scared."
"Terrified."
I roll over to face him. "You want to know how I know this is real? How I know I really love you?"
"How?"
"Because I had a choice. When you offered to run away with me—to reject the Consortium and choose me instead—that was a choice.
I could have said no. Could have told you to go through with the showcase, to take me there and perform, to join the inner circle and keep me as your acquisition.
That would have been easier. Safer. Less complicated. "
"But you didn't."
"No. Because I don't want you to have the inner circle.
I want you to have me. Just me. And I want you to choose me over power.
Because that's the only way I know this is real—if you give up everything for me.
And I'm willing to face the consequences with you.
That's not Stockholm syndrome. That's love. "
He stares at me. "You're willing to face danger with me. Willing to fight the Consortium. Willing to risk everything—just to prove this is real?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I spent twenty-three years at the Sanctuary being told what to want, what to feel, what to be.
And then I spent two weeks with you being trained to respond, to submit, to perform.
And now—finally—I get to choose. Really choose.
And I choose you. Not because I'm conditioned or traumatized or too broken to know better.
But because I actually, genuinely love you. And I want to fight for us."
He kisses me then. Deep and fierce and full of something that feels like hope.
The morning of the showcase arrives too quickly and not quickly enough.
I wake up with Vaughn's arms around me and the knowledge that tonight, everything changes.
Tonight, we walk into the Consortium's spring showcase.
Tonight, Vaughn tells them he's choosing me over the inner circle.
Tonight, we find out if love is worth more than power.
I'm terrified. But also—strangely calm.
Like I've been preparing for this my whole life.
Like everything—the Sanctuary, the escape, the auction, the training, falling in love—has been leading to this moment.
"How do you feel?" Vaughn asks.
"Ready. Scared. Both."
"Me too."
"Any regrets?"
"None. You?"
"Not one."
He kisses my forehead. "Get up. We have a lot to prepare."
The day passes in a strange blur.
I shower, then do my hair and makeup with more care than I've ever taken.
Mrs. Silva helps, her face lined with worry even though Vaughn hasn't told her the whole plan.
"You look beautiful, dear," she says. "Like a princess going to a ball."
"Thank you, Mrs. Silva."
"Mr. Sutherland—he cares about you very much. I hope you know that."
"I do."
"Whatever happens tonight—you'll be all right. Both of you."
I hug her then.
This woman who's shown me kindness in this house.
Who's never treated me like property.
"Thank you. For everything."
She pats my back. "Go on now. Get dressed. He's waiting for you."
I go back to the bedroom.
Find the black silk dress laid out on the bed.
Put it on slowly, carefully, like armor, and look at myself in the mirror.
The woman staring back looks confident.
Elegant. Strong.
Like someone who knows exactly who she is and what she wants.
Like someone who's about to walk into a room full of predators and burn their whole world down.
I smile.
I'm ready.
Vaughn appears in the doorway.
He's in a tuxedo that makes him look devastating.
Powerful. Dangerous.
Perfect.
"You look—" He stops. "There are no words."
"You look pretty incredible yourself."
He crosses to me. Takes my hand. "Last chance to back out."
"I'm not backing out. Are you?"
"No. Never."
"Then let's go."
He pulls a small box from his pocket. "Before we do—I want you to have this."
I open it and inside is a necklace.
Simple. Elegant.
A single diamond on a delicate chain.
"It's beautiful."
"It was my mother's. The only thing I have left of her. I want you to wear it tonight."
Tears threaten. I blink them back. "Help me put it on?"
He fastens it around my neck.
The diamond settles just above my heart.
Perfect.
"Ready?" he asks.
I take his hand. "Together?"
"Together."
We walk down the stairs, out to the car where Callum is waiting.
He knows something is happening.
Can probably sense it, but he doesn't ask questions, just opens the door.
"Good luck, sir. Miss Eden."
"Thank you, Callum."
We get in.
The door closes and the car starts moving.
Toward the Consortium. Toward the showcase. Toward whatever comes next.
I should be terrified.
Instead, I feel calm.
Because I'm not alone. I'm not running. I'm not hiding.
I'm walking in there with the man I love. The man who chooses me over everything.