Chapter 18 - Nathan
The morning light catches in Eve's hair as she stands at the window, wrapped in one of my silk robes.
She's watching the city wake up, and I'm watching her—the way she holds her coffee cup like it's anchoring her to something real, the slight furrow between her brows that means she's thinking too hard.
I want to smooth that line away with my thumb. Want to pull her back to bed and make her forget everything except the sound of my name on her lips.
But there are things she needs to learn first. Things I need to show her about the world she's chosen to inhabit.
"Get dressed," I say softly, moving behind her. My hands settle on her waist, and she leans back into me—an unconscious gesture of trust that makes something fierce and tender twist in my chest. "There's someone I want you to meet."
She turns in my arms, green eyes searching my face. "Who?"
"The man who will keep you safe when I can't be there." I brush a kiss across her forehead. "Trust me?"
The pause is brief, but I feel it. Then she nods, and I realize I've been holding my breath.
***
The gym is discreet, tucked away in a building I own, accessible only to those who know it exists. Eve's hand is small in mine as I lead her through the lobby, past the front desk where the staff know better than to acknowledge us, and into the private training area.
Bjorn is waiting, standing with that military stillness that makes most people nervous.
He's built like a tank, six-foot-four of muscle and menace, with cold eyes that have seen too much death.
But when I made him my head of security five years ago, I knew he was the only man I'd trust with something truly precious.
Now I'm about to trust him with her.
"Eve," I say, feeling her tense beside me. "This is Bjorn Andersson. He's been with me for years. He's loyal, efficient, and utterly ruthless when it comes to protecting what's mine."
Bjorn's gaze flicks to her, assessing but not threatening. Then he bows his head slightly—a gesture of respect I've never seen him give anyone but me.
"Miss Sinclair," he says, his Swedish accent a faint shadow. "It's an honor."
Eve's fingers tighten around mine. "An honor to meet the man who's going to follow me everywhere?"
The corner of Bjorn's mouth twitches. Almost a smile.
"To protect you everywhere," I correct gently. "Bjorn, from this moment, Eve's safety is your primary concern. Above mine. Above the business. Above everything."
His expression doesn't change, but I see the shift in his posture. The acceptance of a new mission. "Understood, sir."
"If anything happens to her," I continue, my voice dropping to that cold register that makes grown men flinch, "you answer to me personally."
"Nothing will happen to her," Bjorn says quietly. "You have my word."
I nod, satisfied. Then I turn to Eve, cupping her face in my hands. "He's yours now. He'll die before he lets anyone hurt you."
She swallows hard, her eyes wide. "Nathan—"
"This is how I protect you," I murmur. "Not just with money or threats. With people who are absolutely loyal, who understand that you are the most valuable thing in my world."
The gym staff move around us, a discrete distance away, and I watch Eve take in the reality of what I'm offering her. Not just my obsession. But the full weight of my protection, backed by men like Bjorn, who live and breathe loyalty.
We leave Bjorn with instructions to prepare a full security detail, and I drive us back to the penthouse in silence. Eve's quiet, processing, and I let her have that space.
But when we get inside, I don't give her long to think.
"There's one more thing you need to see," I say, taking her hand and leading her down the hall past the bedroom, past the guest rooms, to a door she's probably never noticed.
It's black. Seamless. No handle visible from the outside.
I press my palm to the biometric lock, and it clicks open.
The room beyond is dark until I flip the switch, and then soft, ambient lighting illuminates a space that makes Eve's breath catch.
The Dungeon.
I've furnished it carefully over the years, waiting for her. Black walls. Dark hardwood floors. A custom bed frame with attachment points. Leather restraints hanging from hooks. A cabinet of implements that range from gentle to cruel.
It's a room designed for one purpose: the complete surrender of the woman I desire.
Eve steps inside slowly, her eyes wide, taking in every detail. I watch her throat work as she swallows. Watch her pupils dilate with fear and something darker.
"What is this?" Her voice is barely a whisper.
"This is where I bring you when I need you to surrender completely," I say quietly, following her inside. "When I need to remind us both that you're mine in every way that matters." I circle her slowly, predatory. "But no one else has been here. I built it for you. Only you."
She turns to face me, and I see the war in her eyes. Terror and curiosity. Resistance and desire.
"I've never—" She stops, shakes her head. "I don't know how to do this."
"You don't have to know." I move closer, but I don't touch her. Not yet. "That's what I'm here for. To teach you. To guide you. To push you exactly as far as you can go and no further."
"And if I say no?"
The question hangs between us.
"Then we don't use this room," I say simply. "I won't force you, Eve. I never have. Everything we've done, you've chosen. Even if that choice came from limited options."
She laughs, sharp and bitter. "Limited options. That's one way to put it."
"But you're here," I point out. "You came to my bed. You let me inside you. You cried in my arms and let me hold you through the grief. Those were choices."
She closes her eyes, and when she opens them, something has shifted.
"And if I choose this?"
Heat floods through me, dark and possessive. "Then we establish rules. The most important one is your safe word. One word that stops everything immediately, no questions asked."
She considers this, her gaze drifting to the leather restraints, the attachment points, the carefully curated implements of pleasure and pain.
"What word?" she asks.
"Anything you want. Something you wouldn't say during sex."
"Pineapple," she says after a moment, and there's a hint of defiance in her voice that makes me want to kiss her.
"Pineapple," I repeat, committing it to memory. "You say that word, and I stop. Immediately. No matter what's happening. Do you understand?"
She nods, but I shake my head.
"Say it. I need to hear you say it."
"I understand," she whispers. "If I say pineapple, you stop."
"Good girl." The praise makes her shiver, and I file that response away for later. "This room is about trust, Eve. You trust me with your body, your pleasure, your pain. And I trust you to use that word if you need it."
Her pupils dilate. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
The words unlock something feral in me. I kiss her hard, claiming her mouth with teeth and tongue while my hands strip away my t-shirt. Can't wait another second. Her lips are soft, yielding, and when she gasps in surprise, I take advantage, deepening the kiss.
She tastes like champagne and something sweeter, and the small sound she makes in the back of her throat destroys the last of my control. She's naked underneath her shirt, soft and perfect and mine. I tear it off impatiently, her skirt following a second later.
I back her against the wall, caging her with my body. She arches into me, her hands fisting in my jacket. The kiss turns desperate, hungry, all of my obsession crystallizing into this moment.
When I finally break away, we're both breathing hard.
"Come here," I rasp, taking her hand.
I guide her to the leather bench, positioning her on her hands and knees. Her ass is perfect, curved and full, and I can see how wet she already is.
But her eyes are dilated, her breathing quick. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Everything." I stroke my thumb across her lower lip. "But tonight? Tonight I want you to stop thinking. Stop worrying about your company, your ex, the whole fucking world. I want you to just feel."
"How?"
"By taking away everything except my touch, "I say, running my hand down her spine. "Do you want to be fucked mercilessly?"
"Yes." The word is desperate. "Please."
I’m so fucking hard, but I need to teach her a lesson first. I retrieve soft rope from the wall, the kind that won't damage skin. Working efficiently, I bind her wrists to the bench, then her ankles, spreading her wide and vulnerable.
She whimpers, testing the bonds. They hold.
"Beautiful," I murmur, circling her again. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this. Bound and open and completely at my mercy."
My hand trails between her legs, fingers sliding through her wetness. She gasps, pushing back against my touch.
"So eager." I withdraw my hand, bringing my fingers to her mouth. "Taste yourself. Taste what you do to me."
She opens obediently, sucking my fingers clean. The sight makes my cock throb painfully against my zipper.
I strip quickly, freeing myself, and position behind her. But I don't enter. Not yet.
Instead, I lean down, pressing my tongue against her. She cries out, the sound echoing in the room, and I devour her. Licking, sucking, pushing my tongue inside while she writhes in her bonds.
"Nathan—sir—please—"
"Please what?" I pull back, replacing my tongue with two fingers. "Tell me what you need."
"I need you inside me." She's sobbing now, desperate. "I need to feel owned. Claimed. Please."
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her heat. "You are mine," I say, pushing in slowly. "Every inch of you belongs to me."
She screams as I fill her, the sound pure pleasure. I bottom out, my hips flush against her ass, and pause.
"Who do you belong to?"
"You. God, move. Please move."
I withdraw and slam back in, setting a brutal pace. The bench creaks with each thrust, and Eve's cries fill the room, mixed with my grunts and the obscene sound of skin meeting skin.
"This is what you needed," I growl, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "To be taken. To be used. To forget everything except this."
"Yes." She's crying again, but these are tears of release. "Yes, sir."
I spank her, one, two, three times as she cries out. Her ass is red already. I love it.
I reach around, finding her clit, and she detonates. Her orgasm clenches around me, pulling me deeper, and I follow her over the edge with a roar.
We stay connected, both shaking, while I carefully untie her bonds. Then I lift her, carrying her to the leather sofa, and cradle her against my chest.
"You're perfect," I murmur, stroking her hair. "So fucking perfect."
She sighs, exhausted, and it makes my chest tighten.
"I will give you more soon. But not today," I say, though my body is screaming to take her again already. "Today, you also need to learn something else."
***
The shooting range is underground, private, the kind of place that doesn't officially exist. Eve is nervous as we descend in the elevator, her hand in mine, her pulse racing where my thumb presses against her wrist.
"Why am I here?" she asks as we step into the concrete corridor.
"Because you need to know how to protect yourself," I say simply. "Bjorn and his team will keep you safe. But I want you to have a backup."
The range instructor greets us with professional courtesy, providing ear protection and explaining basic safety protocols. Eve listens with that focused intensity she brings to everything, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Then he places a gun in her hands.
She holds it carefully, respectfully, the weight of it clearly registering. I move behind her, my body bracketing hers, my hands coming around to adjust her grip.
"Like this," I murmur in her ear. "Firm but not tight. Let the gun become an extension of your arm."
She shivers at my closeness, and I feel the heat of her back against my chest. The smell of her shampoo mingles with the sharp tang of gunpowder, and it's intoxicating.
"Feet shoulder-width apart," I continue, using my leg to nudge hers into position. "Knees slightly bent. You want to be grounded, stable."
I guide her arms up, my hands covering hers, and feel the tremor in her muscles.
"Breathe," I whisper. "You're safe. I've got you."
She exhales slowly, and I feel her body relax infinitesimally into mine.
"Now, when you're ready, squeeze the trigger. Don't pull. Squeeze."
The gun fires, the recoil minimal with my hands steadying hers. The target down range shows a hole just left of center.
"Again," I say. "This time on your own."
I step back, giving her space, and watch as she adjusts her stance, takes aim, and fires. The hole appears closer to the center.
"Good," I murmur. "Very good."
We spend an hour there, and I watch her transform. The nervous woman who entered becomes focused, powerful, and dangerous. By the time we leave, she's hit the bullseye five times in a row.
I'm so fucking proud of her I can barely speak.
In the car, she's quiet, staring at her hands.
"I never thought I'd be the kind of person who could do that," she says finally.
"You're the kind of person who can do anything," I tell her. "You just needed someone to show you."
She looks at me then, really looks at me, and I see something in her eyes I haven't seen before. Not just acceptance. Not just resignation.
Respect. Maybe even admiration.
"Where are we going now?" she asks as I don't turn toward the penthouse.
"The airport," I say simply.
Her eyes widen. "Why?"
"Because it's time for you to see the rest of your new world."
***
The jet is waiting on the tarmac, sleek and private, my name on the side in discreet lettering. Eve stares at it as we cross the concrete, the wind whipping her hair around her face.
"I've never been on a private plane," she admits.
"You'll never fly commercial again," I promise, guiding her up the stairs.
Inside, it's all leather and luxury. She runs her fingers over the seats, the polished wood, the crystal decanters secured in custom holders.
"Nathan, where are we going?"
I settle into the seat across from her, watching as the pilot closes the cabin door.
"Somewhere I've built just for us," I say. "Somewhere no one can find us. Somewhere you can finally stop running."
The engines whir to life, and I see the moment she understands. We're leaving the city. Leaving everything familiar.
Leaving her old life completely behind.
"It's time, Eve," I say softly as the jet begins to taxi. "Time for you to see the world I've built for us. The sanctuary where you'll be safe from everything except me."
The jet lifts off, and through the window, I watch the city shrink below us. By the time we level out, Eve's hand has found mine across the small table between us.
She doesn't let go for the entire flight.