Take Lace Harding upstairs

“Kneel.”

The Inquisitor’s voice was low, commanding, and carried the weight of authority that brooked no argument. Lace Harding, the ever-resourceful and sharp-witted scout, hesitated for the briefest of moments before lowering herself to the ground, her knees meeting the cold, hard stone of the Inquisitor’s private quarters. Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, her fiery red hair falling slightly into her eyes, but she didn’t dare move to brush it away. His piercing gaze held her in place, the intensity of it making her pulse race.

“You’ve been testing me, haven’t you, Harding?” he said, his voice a slow, deliberate drawl as he circled her like a predator sizing up its prey. “Little comments here, lingering looks there. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”

Lace swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “I... I didn’t mean to overstep, Inquisitor,” she stammered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

He stopped in front of her, towering over her diminutive frame, his presence overwhelming. “Oh, you overstepped,” he said, a dangerous edge to his tone. “But that’s not why you’re here tonight. You’re here because you wanted to. Because you crave this. Don’t you?”

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her lips. He was right, and she knew it. There was something about him—his power, his dominance—that had drawn her in from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. She’d tried to ignore it, to push it down, but it had only grown stronger, until it was all she could think about.

He knelt down in front of her, his face inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin. “Say it,” he commanded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me what you want.”

Lace’s heart was pounding in her chest, her hands trembling at her sides. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I want... I want you to take control,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I want you to... to own me.”

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but there was an undercurrent of possessiveness in it that sent shivers down her spine. “Now, as your Inquisitor, I command you to submit. Completely. Without reservation.”

She nodded, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said, standing up and stepping back. “Stand.”

Lace obeyed, her legs feeling like jelly as she rose to her feet. He walked over to the bed, where a collection of ropes, cuffs, and other implements were laid out, and picked up a length of silk rope. He turned back to her, his eyes dark with desire. “Strip,” he ordered.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the laces of her tunic, her fingers fumbling with the ties. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move, and it only made her more nervous. Finally, she managed to get the tunic off, followed by her undershirt, leaving her in nothing but her smallclothes.

“The rest,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly slid her undergarments down, letting them pool at her feet. She stood there, completely exposed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she didn’t dare look away from him.

He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every detail. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “But tonight, you’re mine.”

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as he began to tie the rope around her wrists, his movements precise and deliberate. He guided her arms behind her back, securing them firmly but not painfully. She could feel the silk biting into her skin, the sensation both comforting and thrilling.

Once her hands were bound, he stepped back, looking her over with a satisfied expression. “Kneel,” he ordered again, and she obeyed without hesitation, lowering herself to the ground once more.

He walked around her, his hand trailing along her back as he moved. “You’ve done well so far,” he said, his voice low and approving. “But this is just the beginning.”

She shivered as he moved behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “What... what are you going to do to me?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Whatever I want.”

She gasped as his hands moved down her body, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. He was in complete control, and she was utterly at his mercy. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

As he continued to explore her body, his touch growing bolder and more insistent, Lace felt herself surrendering completely to him. She had **** but to trust him, to let go and allow him to take her to places she’d never been before.

But as he pushed her to her limits, testing her endurance and her will, a single question lingered in her mind: How far would she let him go?