I stayed on my knees, looking up at him.

The rug was soft beneath me. Part of me wanted to stand up and leave before I lost myself completely. This was too much, too fast. But it was Dominic’s gaze that held me in place. Those grey eyes didn’t waver. He studied me like I was something precious and fragile he had finally caught. My cheeks burned, and yet I couldn’t look away. Not when he was watching me like this. A long, heavy silence stretched between us. My heart kept racing, but strangely, the longer I knelt there, the quieter my thoughts became.

“You’re trembling,” he observed quietly.

I swallowed. “I’m nervous.”

“I know.” His voice was low, calm. “But you’re still here. Still looking at me.” He took one slow step closer. “That pleases me, Jasmine.”

The simple praise settled warm in my chest. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear it.

He reached down and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers barely grazing my skin. The touch was so light, so careful. I instinctively leaned into it for half a second before catching myself and pulling back slightly. No. Don’t melt so easily.

“Hands behind your back,” he murmured.

I hesitated. My arms felt heavy as I slowly moved them behind me, clasping my wrists. The posture opened my chest and made me feel far too vulnerable. A voice in my head screamed that this was dangerous, that I was giving a dangerous man exactly what he wanted. But another, quieter voice whispered that it also felt… safe. Like I could finally breathe.

Dominic watched the internal battle play across my face. “Good. Just like that. See how easy it is when you stop fighting yourself?”

I bit my lip. It shouldn’t feel this good to obey him. Yet my racing mind had already slowed. The constant pressure I carried every day, school, clinicals, my parents’ expectations, felt further away. Like someone had finally taken the weight off my shoulders, even if only for a moment.

He circled me slowly once, then stopped in front of me again. This time he crouched down so we were closer to eye level. His presence filled the space around me.

“Tell me what you’re carrying,” he said quietly. “Not what you think I want to hear. The truth.”

My throat tightened. The words came out hesitant at first.

“I’m tired,” I whispered. “All the time. I study until I can’t see straight. I smile for my parents even when I’m falling apart inside. I try so hard to be good… to be enough. But it never feels like it is.”

I hadn’t meant to say so much. The confession left me feeling exposed. I immediately regretted saying it. Why am I telling him these things? He didn’t deserve my honesty.

Dominic listened without interrupting. When I fell silent, he lifted my chin with two fingers again, gentle but firm.

“Here, you don’t have to be enough,” he said. His thumb stroked slowly along my jaw. “You don’t have to be strong. You don’t have to carry anything. All you have to do is what I tell you. And when you do… you are perfect.”

The words sank deep into me. Dangerous words. Beautiful words.

He rose again and rested his hand on top of my head, slowly threading his fingers through my hair. The gentle pressure made my eyes flutter half-closed. I wanted to lean my forehead against his thigh. I wanted to press closer. The yearning surprised me with its strength. But I kept my back straight and fought the urge. Don’t give him everything. Not yet.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he asked, voice low. “How quiet your mind becomes when you let me lead.”

I did feel it. And that terrified me.

“I… I shouldn’t want this,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. My voice cracked. “This isn’t me.”

“Yet you keep choosing it,” he replied calmly. “Every time you obey, you choose it again.”

His fingers continued their slow, soothing strokes through my hair. Every pass sent little sparks across my scalp and down my spine. I was embarrassingly aware of how much I craved each touch. How I ached for him to do more. Not anything wild or explicit, just more. His hand on my neck. His palm against my cheek. Anything. But he kept the touches light and controlled. Like he knew exactly how much it was making me yearn.

“Look at me.”

I lifted my gaze again. His expression was calm, but there was a dark satisfaction in his eyes.

“You chose to kneel for me tonight,” he said softly. “You chose to open that pretty mouth and tell me what you’ve been hiding from everyone else. That honesty belongs to me now. Don’t give that part of yourself to anyone who hasn’t earned it.”

Something inside my chest shifted. The emotional pull toward him felt stronger than the physical one. In this moment, he saw all the exhausted, imperfect pieces of me… and he didn’t look disappointed. He looked like he wanted them.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there. Minutes? Longer? Time felt slippery. All I knew was the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his hand in my hair, and the deep, terrifying realization that I already wanted to come back. Not just for the relief.

For him.

Eventually, Dominic’s hand stilled. He slid two fingers under my chin and tilted my face up.

“It’s enough for tonight,” he said. The decision was final. “Come here.”

Relief and disappointment crashed through me at the same time. He helped me rise on unsteady legs. My knees ached, but it didn’t matter. Standing, he pulled me gently against his chest, one arm wrapping around my lower back. I melted into him before I could think better of it. He smelled like whiskey, smoke, and something darker. I pressed my face into his shirt, breathing him in. His hand rubbed slow circles on my back.

“You did well,” he murmured against my hair. “I’m proud of you for choosing this.”

Those words hit dangerously close to my heart. I wanted to stay in his arms longer. I wanted to hear more. But the fear won out just enough. I pulled back slightly, creating a small space between us even as my hands lingered on his shirt. He noticed, of course. A faint, knowing look crossed his face, but he didn’t push.

“Think about tonight when you’re alone,” he said quietly. “Think about how it felt to kneel for me. When you’re ready for more… you’ll come back. Because you want to.”

He walked me to the door of the private lounge, his hand never leaving my lower back. At the threshold, he stopped and looked down at me one last time.

“You chose this, Jasmine. Never forget that.”

I stepped out into the club alone, legs shaky, skin still tingling where he had touched me. My mind was quiet for the first time in years.

And all I could think about was how much I already missed the weight of his gaze.