Taken

The day passed in a haze.

Mia couldn’t look at Aryan without remembering the way he touched her that morning—how he worshipped her bare body like it was something sacred. She’d stayed close to him all day, quiet and flushed, feeling more owned than ever before.

And now... night had fallen.

She stood in the doorway of his bedroom again, wearing what he told her to—soft, sheer fabric that didn’t hide a thing. The hem of her top barely covered her breasts. Her shorts were more like a whisper than clothing.

Aryan sat on the bed, shirtless again, watching her like a wolf.

“Come here, little one,” he said, voice dark and low.

She obeyed.

He didn’t say another word. Just pulled her into his lap, both hands gripping her waist as he kissed her neck—slow, deep, and with that same dangerous obsession.

“You’ve been patient,” he murmured against her skin. “Obedient. You let me taste you. Worship you. Claim you in pieces.”

His hands slid under her top, thumbs brushing her nipples, making her breath hitch.

“But tonight…” He pulled the top off over her head. “I take it all.”

She didn’t resist. Couldn’t.

He stood, lifting her effortlessly in his arms and laying her on the bed like she was made of something fragile and beautiful. He undressed her fully—inch by inch, dragging his fingers along her skin, watching her shiver.

And then he undressed himself.

When he crawled over her, their bare bodies finally aligned, heat to heat, breath to breath.

Aryan cupped her cheek, thumb stroking gently. “This won’t be soft,” he whispered. “It’ll be mine. Every sound you make. Every tear, every moan—you give it to me. Understood?”

Mia nodded, trembling. “Yes, Master.”

His lips crashed into hers—hungry and wild—and then he pressed into her, slowly, deeply, inch by inch.

She gasped, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. It hurt. Just a little. But it was good. It was real. It was him.

Aryan growled low in his throat. “So tight… fuck. This is mine.”

He moved inside her with long, deep thrusts—each one harder than the last, each one sinking her deeper into the mattress.

Mia clung to him, nails raking his back, moaning his name like a prayer.

He kissed her neck, her lips, her stomach, whispering filthy, reverent things between every stroke.

“This belly…” a thrust. “I’ll fill it one day.” Another thrust, deeper. “With my seed, with my name, with my fucking love.”

Mia cried out, body arching. Her climax built fast, powerful—too much and not enough.

He gripped her wrists, pinning them above her head. “Come for me,” he growled in her ear. “Show me how you break for your Master.”

And she did—shattering under him, shaking, tears slipping from the corner of her eyes from the intensity.

Aryan wasn’t far behind. With a final, deep thrust, he spilled inside her with a loud groan, burying his face in her neck, panting against her skin.

They stayed like that—his body covering hers, hearts pounding in sync.

He kissed her softly. “You’re mine, Mia. In every way now.”

She looked up at him, dazed, ruined, blissed out.

And smiled.

Because she knew it too.

Mia didn’t remember falling asleep.

But she remembered the way Aryan held her after—arms wrapped around her, breath steady against her neck, one hand on her belly like he was protecting her from something unseen.

When she stirred, it was still dark outside.

The city lights bled softly through the curtains. Aryan was awake—propped up on his elbow, just watching her.

Her cheeks flushed. “Master…”

“Shh,” he whispered, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “No need to speak yet.”

His fingers traced lazy circles over her stomach, dipping lower, then back up again. Possessive. Soothing.

“You took me so well, Mia,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I didn’t go easy… but you didn’t ask me to stop.”

“I didn’t want you to.”

That earned her a look. Sharp. Dark. Pleased.

His hand slid to her jaw, tilting her face toward him. “That’s because your body knows who it belongs to now.”

Mia’s heart raced. Her legs unconsciously tightened around his, and she nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Good girl,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.

He reached to the nightstand and pulled out a small velvet box. She blinked, confused.

“It’s not a ring,” he smirked. “Not yet.”

Inside was a delicate choker—thin, black silk with a silver tag at the center. One word engraved:

"Mine."

Her lips parted, eyes wide. “You want me to wear this?”

Aryan leaned down, kissing her neck slowly before whispering, “Every night we sleep together. Every time we’re alone. It’s not just a symbol—it’s a warning to your body. That you’re owned.”

She swallowed hard. “Put it on me?”

He fastened it gently around her neck, fingers brushing her skin as he secured it.

Then, he trailed his mouth across the line where the silk met her throat. “Perfect,” he murmured. “I’ll get you a matching ankle bracelet next. Something only I’ll see.”

Mia shivered.

He pulled her into his lap, his hand sliding beneath her thighs, lifting her easily as if she weighed nothing. She sat straddled over him, naked, marked, and trembling from how safe and claimed she felt.

Then his tone shifted—still soft, but commanding.

“Tomorrow, you start doing things my way completely.”

She looked up. “Like what?”

“You’ll wear what I choose when we’re home. You’ll text me the moment you wake up. You’ll greet me at the door with that sweet little smile, your lips on mine—and kisses here.”

He tapped his jaw. “Here.”

His lips. “And here.”

Her neck.

Mia nodded slowly, her eyes wide, heart thumping.

“And when you sleep,” he said, dragging his hand slowly down her back, “you’ll do it in my bed. Always. I don’t care where we are.”

“Even if you’re angry with me?”

“Especially then,” he growled. “You’ll sleep beside me whether you like it or not. I’ll punish you in the morning if I have to. But you’ll stay.”

A pause.

Then softer:

“You’re mine, Mia. Not just your body. All of you.”

Her chest ached with something deeper than lust. She nodded again, arms wrapping around his neck.

“I want to be yours, Master. Completely.”