Chapter 25

How ... how much does it cost, Master?”

Elias’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. He ran his fingers along the platinum band, admiring how perfectly it sat against her delicate neck.

“It’s yours now, little one,” he murmured. “This collar is made of the finest platinum, inlaid with rare, flawless pink diamonds sourced from a private mine in Australia. The central stone alone is over five carats. The entire piece is worth well over three million dollars. It was custom-designed for your neck only.”

Lena’s eyes widened in shock. “What if I don’t want it, Master?”

Elias let out a low, dark chuckle. He reached down, gripped her arms, and pulled her gently but firmly to her feet. He turned her so her back pressed flush against his broad, muscular chest, one strong arm wrapping around her waist to hold her in place.

“This is not optional, my love,” he said softly, his voice rich with absolute authority as his free hand began to roam. His palm slid slowly up her arm, then cupped one of her heavy breasts, squeezing and kneading the swollen flesh with deliberate sensuality. His thumb brushed over her sensitive nipple, rolling it until it stiffened under his touch. “You will wear this collar every single day. It is a sign of my ownership over you — subtle enough for the world to see as jewelry, but unmistakable to those who know what it truly means.”

Lena’s breath hitched as his other hand trailed downward, gliding over her soft stomach before stopping between her thighs. His fingers found her clit with unerring precision and began rubbing slow, teasing circles, spreading the slick evidence of her arousal.

“You will wear it with pride, Lena,” he continued, lips brushing her ear as he worked her body with expert patience. “Because it tells the world — and tells you — exactly who you belong to. Every time you look in the mirror, every time you feel its weight against your throat, you will remember that you are mine. Mind, body.”

Lena trembled in his arms, her head falling back against his shoulder as soft, needy whimpers escaped her lips. The combination of the expensive collar around her neck and his hands claiming her so intimately left her dizzy with conflicting emotions — shame, arousal, and a terrifying sense of being utterly possessed.

Elias kissed the side of her neck, right above the platinum band.

Elias’s lips lingered against the side of her neck, just above the cool platinum band, before he drew back with a satisfied hum. His hand remained between her thighs for a few more teasing moments, fingers gliding through her wetness, before he finally pulled away. “Such a responsive little thing,” he murmured, voice thick with approval and that familiar edge of mock disappointment. “But control will come with time, my love.”

Elias’s mouth brushed the curve of her neck just above the gleaming band, then withdrew with a low, contented sound. His fingers lingered between her slick folds a moment longer, stroking lazily before retreating. “So eager already,” he murmured, the words warm with both praise and gentle reproach. “We’ll train that impatience out of you soon enough, little one.”

Elias guided the completely bare Lena across the room to the grand bed. He stayed fully clothed in his sharp white shirt and tailored trousers, the contrast striking as his fabric whispered against her exposed skin. With steady hands he eased her onto the edge of the mattress, then sat beside her, pulling her close so her soft curves molded against his solid frame. One arm looped around her waist while the other rested high on her thigh.

“You face two vital areas of growth, my love,” he said, voice rich and measured. “Your surgical precision has already made me proud. The second focuses on your body itself—awakening its hidden strength and surrender. Tonight we ease into it with something basic.”

He tipped her chin up, locking eyes with her. “Your body is mine. That means constant availability. From now on, in this bedroom you will remain undressed far more often. I’m a possessive man, Lena. I share nothing that belongs to me. Outside these walls, you will always dress modestly—no exceptions, even with other women. Any slip will bring punishment. But here, the second you step inside—alone or with me—you remove every stitch. Understood?”

His fingers traced the elegant line of her new collar, then slipped beneath it for a light, possessive pull. “And in this room, the only thing you’re permitted to wear is this collar ... or whatever I choose to place inside you. Nothing more. Ever.”

Lena’s chest tightened under a storm of feelings. Bewilderment clouded her thoughts at the sheer totality of his demand. A deep reluctance twisted inside her, resisting the loss of even this private autonomy. Fear sent a cool shiver down her spine at how thoroughly he intended to claim every inch of her existence. Yet beneath it all, an insistent, shameful heat bloomed low in her belly, leaving her slick and pulsing with unwanted need.

Elias studied her expression, his hand sliding down to cup her intimately once more. “What’s running through that pretty head, my little girl?” he asked, tone deceptively gentle. “These rules require no thought. You have no choice. You simply answer, ‘Yes, Master.’ Clear?”

She swallowed hard, the whirlwind inside her only growing.

He pressed closer, his clothed chest grazing her bare breasts, lips at her ear. “I expect your mind to be focused, commanding, and utterly dominant in the operating room. But with me, alone like this—you are wholly mine. No thinking. Only obedience. Is that clear?”

His thumb resumed its slow, maddening circles over her clit, sealing the command as he waited, dark eyes patient yet unrelenting.

Elias’s thumb kept its lazy, relentless rhythm over her swollen clit, stroking her slick folds with slow, expert precision. “Say yes, Master,” he commanded softly, his voice a velvet blade against her ear.

Lena’s body betrayed her completely. A fresh wave of insane arousal crashed through her, making her hips twitch and her core clench desperately around nothing. Her breathing turned ragged, nipples tight and aching, thighs trembling as slick heat coated his fingers. Why am I like this? she thought desperately, cursing her own traitorous body. Was it something in the food he fed her? The drinks he poured? Or the drugs from the plug inside her? The moment he came near her—his scent, his voice, his commanding presence—she melted into this needy, dripping mess. She couldn’t think straight, her mind fogged by overwhelming lust that drowned out every protest.

The mix of emotions only intensified her shame: the confusion and fear still lingered, but the raw, humiliating desire burned hotter, leaving her pulsing against his hand, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

“Yes ... Master,” she finally whispered, voice small and broken, the words slipping out even as her mind screamed in conflicted surrender.

Elias watched her for a long moment, savoring the way she trembled under his touch. Then he rose from the bed with fluid grace and crossed the room. He returned shortly after, holding a crystal glass filled with one of his special preparations—a shimmering, faintly sweet liquid designed to ease her mind while stoking the fires in her body.

Her internal struggle was written plainly across her face: the deep conflict, the quiet resistance still flickering beneath the surface. She had come so far since that first day in the car, when she had recoiled from even the lightest touch, but there was still a long road ahead. These drinks had proven invaluable in softening her edges, quieting her fears while gently amplifying her desires. He would break her resistance slowly, carefully, until obedience became as natural as breathing.

He stood over her, towering above her naked, collared form seated on the edge of the bed. The candlelight played across her skin, highlighting every vulnerable curve.

“Drink little one,” he commanded, voice low and firm, extending the glass to her lips.

Lena hesitated, her mouth remaining stubbornly closed for a few seconds, eyes darting up to his with lingering uncertainty.

Elias let out a soft, disappointed sigh. “Lena, you’re still sore from your last punishment. Do you really need another one so soon? Personally I enjoy making that huge bottom of yours red again. Choice is yours my love.”

The threat worked instantly. Her lips parted, and she opened for him without further delay.

“Good girl,” he praised, tilting the glass carefully so she could gulp the drink down in slow, measured swallows. The sight was intoxicating—her bare body flushed and exposed, the platinum collar gleaming at her throat, her heavy breasts rising and falling with each nervous breath, those wide, innocent eyes locked on his face while her soft lips wrapped obediently around the rim of the glass. Absolute power coursed through him, rich and heady.

As the last drops disappeared, he set the glass aside and brushed a thumb across her lower lip, wiping away a stray bead of liquid. The drink would soon calm the storm in her mind, heighten her sensitivity, and leave her pleasantly drowsy—perfect for deepening her surrender tonight.