The air in the dimly lit room was thick with tension, a silent war of emotions playing out between you and Adam. You sat on his lap, wrists and ankles bound with red bows that matched the fiery intensity in his eyes behind his mask. His strong arms rested around you, not restraining but ensuring you remained where you were, his possession, his mate. It was that season, and your body ached for his touch, but Adam was a leader with responsibilities.

“You know I have work to do, don’t you, darling?” His voice was low, a dangerous blend of authority and affection, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, igniting the restless heat that burned inside you. He brushed a lock of hair away from your face, his fingers grazing softly down your cheek, leaving a trail of sparks that made your heart race faster.

You knew better than to push him when he was like this, when he was focused on something beyond the two of you. But tonight was different. The urge inside you, the primal need for his attention, for his touch, was too much to bear. You had tried to be patient, to sit quietly in his lap as he worked, just like before. But now, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. Needed more.

Adam leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I understand your frustrations, my love,” he whispered, his voice dripping with false tenderness. “And trust me, you’re all I can think about right now. But you have to be patient… just a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

His words were laced with the manipulation you had come to recognize over the months. He knew how to toy with your emotions, how to make you feel guilty for wanting something more. For wanting him. His hand moved slowly, trailing down your neck, his thumb gently pressing against your collarbone, a reminder of the control he had over you.