CHAPTER 7A
Aria stood by the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she sealed the sample and tucked it into her bag.
Her task was done—she should’ve left.
But her body refused to move.
Something held her in place—silent, powerful, and impossible to name. Her hand hovered on the door, but her body refused to move.
Slowly, as if drawn by an unseen force, she turned her head and looked back.
He was staring at her—unblinking, intense.
That same quiet hunger simmered in his gaze, raw and wordless.
Her eyes dropped before she could stop them.
He was still hard.
The outline of him pressed visibly against the fabric of his pants, impossible to ignore. The air between them pulsed with tension, thick and humming with everything unsaid. Her breath caught, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
She didn’t understand what held her there—pity, curiosity, something deeper—but she couldn’t look away.
Not yet.
The air between them crackled.
Heat rolled off him in waves, his entire body drawn tight with a tension that felt barely contained.
His gaze was locked on hers—dark, unblinking, almost devouring—and it hit her like a current under her skin, pulling her toward him.
It was like being caught in a trance, rooted in place by the sheer force of him. Her breaths came shallow and quick, her chest rising and falling as instinct screamed at her to turn and run.
But she didn’t move.
She couldn’t.
She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his muscles flexed as though he were holding something back—something raw and barely caged.
His wrists were shackled above his head, chains creaking under the strain as his fists clenched tightly—knuckles white, tendons taut.
His jaw was set, tension radiating from every line of his body.
He was fighting it-whatever this pull between them was—and yet, his eyes never wavered from her.
Aria shook her head, reminding herself her job was finished—she needed to leave.
But just as her fingers curled around the door handle, a low, guttural sound broke the silence behind her. A groan—raw, primal—rolled through the room, freezing her in place.
The sound sent a shiver down her spine.
Against her better judgment, she glanced back—only to find his eyes still locked on her, dark and hungry, trailing over every curve of her body with blatant, unspoken desire.
Aria swallowed hard, a tremor running through her hand as it gripped the cold metal of the door.
She shook her head, as if trying to snap herself out of it.
“What are you waiting for?” Aria whispered to herself, the words barely audible, like saying them aloud might force her body to move.
But it didn’t.
Her hand stayed wrapped around the door handle, knuckles tight, the cool metal biting into her skin. She was supposed to leave. He was just a subject. Nothing more. That was the rule—the line she wasn’t supposed to cross.
And yet she stood there, unmoving.
Her heartbeat pounded like a warning in her ears, quick and erratic. Every second she hesitated made the room feel smaller, the air thicker. Logic shouted at her to walk out, to finish the job and go. But something else—something reckless and hot and alive—kept her rooted in place.
A strange heat curled low in her belly, and her breath caught as that tension inside her coiled tighter, impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just fear. It wasn’t just curiosity.
It was him.
With a trembling exhale, Aria finally let go. The handle slipped from her fingers like a lifeline she no longer wanted. Her body turned before her mind could catch up—slow, deliberate, like wading into dangerous waters she had no business entering.
He was still watching her.
Eyes dark and unblinking, like they saw everything.
And she was still there. Standing in the quiet pull between what she knew was right… and what her body was begging her to feel.
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, a drumbeat of desire and anticipation that drowned out all rational thought.
She couldn't control herself any longer; the pull towards him was too strong, too overwhelming.
She walked towards him, her steps slow and deliberate, her eyes locked onto his. He watched her approach, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort of maintaining control.
As she came to stand in front of him, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the dark, hungry desire in his eyes.
Aria stood before him, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the sight of his restrained form.
The chains that bound him to the wall caught the dim light, glinting like a warning—but it wasn’t the metal that made her breath catch. It was the look in his eyes. That raw, untamed hunger. It rooted her in place, held her fast, even as every instinct screamed at her to run.
Then he moved.
His hips snapped forward with a fierce, almost feral intensity, the sheer force of it making the heavy chains rattle against the wall. Muscles rippled down his torso and thighs, tight and commanding, like he was built for this—like nothing could restrain him, not even iron.
Aria gasped, stumbling back a step before she could stop herself, heart slamming against her ribs. The movement was animalistic, powerful… and impossible to look away from.
His breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, his body shining with sweat as he invested every bit of his energy into each thrust.
Aria could see the strain in his body, the way his muscles flexed and rippled with effort, the veins in his neck and arms standing out in stark relief.
He was a man possessed, driven by a primal need that left no room for anything else.
The chains bit into his wrists, leaving angry red marks, but he seemed oblivious to the discomfort, his focus solely on the rhythm of his body and the chase for release.
His hips moved back and forth, slow and steady, each thrust full of raw need.
Back and forth...
Back and forth...
The chains pulled tight with every motion, clinking softly in the quiet room.
The way he moved was intense, almost hypnotic—like he couldn’t stop himself, like something deep inside him had taken over.
The room filled with the sound of their shared breaths, the clanking of chains, and the wet, obscene sounds of his body moving against the air.
Aria's eyes widened as she watched him, her body responding to the primal display even though she wasn't even touching him yet.
Her heart hammered in her chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that seemed to echo through every fibre of her being.
A wave of heat crashed over her, setting her skin on fire with a heightened, tingling sensitivity.
Her nipples tightened and ached, pushing against the confines of her clothing, craving his touch.
She could feel the dampness between her thighs, her body readying itself for him, her inner muscles clenching with a desperate, hollow need.
Her breathing became erratic, coming in quick, shallow gasps as she fought to maintain some semblance of control.
Aria's eyes met his, and she saw the same primal hunger reflected in his gaze.
He was a caged beast, wild and untamed, and she was his prey. The knowledge sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through her, a heady rush that left her dizzy and desperate for more.
She was playing with fire, and she knew it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She wanted to burn, to be consumed by the inferno of his desire.
Suddenly, he lunged forward, a predator claiming his prey, and buried his face against the sensitive curve where her neck met her shoulder.
Aria stood frozen, her body a statue of anticipation and trepidation. The first sensation that assaulted her was his laboured breathing, hot and heavy against her skin, a primal rhythm that sent shivers down her spine.
His breaths were ragged, each one a testament to the wild, untamed desire that coursed through his veins.
She could feel the heat of him, the raw, masculine energy that seemed to envelop her, drawing her into his orbit.
Her heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat of anticipation that echoed the primal rhythm of his breaths.
As his movements grew more urgent, more insistent, Aria felt a shift, a dark, exotic current that passed between them.
His tongue emerged, a wet, warm serpent that trailed long, possessive strokes up and down the vulnerable expanse of her throat.
She gasped, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrendered to the sensation, her body alive and responsive in a way it never had been before.
He explored her, his tongue tasting, teasing, claiming the delicate flesh of her throat.
Each stroke was a brand, a mark of ownership that sent waves of pleasure and fear crashing through her.
She could feel the power he held, the raw, primal dominance that threatened to consume her, to drown her in a sea of sensation.
His mouth was hot and wet, his tongue a relentless force that mapped every inch of her throat, from the hollow at the base to the sensitive spot just below her ear.
Paralysed by a tumult of fear and unexpected arousal, Aria stood motionless, her body a battlefield of conflicting sensations.
She was a statue, frozen in time, as he began to move his hips in a rhythmic, deliberate thrusting, his engorged length seeking friction, seeking release. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that left her breathless and unable to form a coherent sentence.