Lucas’s fingers trailed down her arm, his touch once again drawing her attention to him, commanding it.

Michelle exhaled slowly, turning to face him, her body surrendering—at least on the surface. She raised her hands to his chest, her touch tentative at first, then more assured as she stood and let him pull her against him. He wanted her vulnerable, open to him, and that was exactly what she’d let him see.

As they kissed, Michelle felt the familiar tension in her body—both desire and dread curling together. It was all part of the game. The one he thought he controlled. But tonight, it was her turn to move the pieces.

They fell onto the bed, and Michelle let herself respond to every touch, every kiss.

Lucas’s hands roamed her body, and she gave in enough, letting herself moan softly as he kissed down her neck, his lips trailing lower, teasing along her skin. He was drawing her in again, the intoxicating mix of affection and control that left her on the edge, begging for more.

But then the hesitation crept in.

She had the chance now, the opportunity she’d been waiting for. Lucas’s hands roamed her body, his breath hot against her skin, and something unexpected tugged at her.

Had she grown to enjoy this twisted game? Was she really still faking it—or did a part of her crave this? The push and pull of their dynamic, the tension that came with always being on edge, never knowing when he would switch from lover to captor—it had become a sick kind of comfort.

Lucas kissed her deeply, his hand tightening in her hair as he moved inside her, and Michelle’s mind slipped further into the fog. His control was like a drug, one she hated and craved in equal measure. She could feel the familiar swell of pleasure building, the edge approaching—but she knew, this time, it was up to her whether she gave in.

As they made love, Lucas whispered in her ear, his voice thick with promise, “You’re mine, Michelle. You know that don’t you?”

Michelle’s fingers curled into his back, and for a moment, she almost said it—almost let herself slip back into the lie she’d told herself so many times.

Lucas pulled back, leaving her teetering on the brink of release. A cruel smirk playing on his lips, Michelle’s hesitation vanished. The game wasn’t over. She hadn’t lost herself completely.

Not yet.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Just when she thought he was going to leave her unfulfilled again, Lucas moved again, his breathing heavy, his strokes quickening until they fell over the edge together.

Tucking her into his side, he pressed a kiss to her sweaty brow and looked down at her, his gaze serious, a rare glimpse of vulnerability breaking through his usually controlled demeanor. “Michelle,” he breathed, his voice carrying an unexpected tenderness, “I’ve been thinking about our future.”

She looked at him, her eyes heavy with the afterglow of their shared passion. “Future?” she echoed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I want us to have a family. I want you to be the mother of my child.”

Michelle’s heart skipped a beat. The idea of having a baby—a dream she’d cherished for years—suddenly felt achingly close. She’d imagined the laughter, the joy, the little moments of bonding that come with being a parent. But now, with Lucas’s desire hanging between them, the fantasy collided harshly with reality.

She pulled away slightly, her mind racing. A baby would mean a permanent connection to Lucas. It would mean bringing a new life into a world filled with his manipulations and cruelty. Could she really subject a child to that kind of life?

“What… what are you saying?” Michelle asked, her voice trembling slightly. “You want us to have a baby now?”

Lucas’s eyes softened, and he nodded. “Yes. I want to build a future with you again.”

She looked at Lucas, his eyes filled with a rare earnestness. She could see he was serious, and the weight of his words pressed heavily on her chest. Did she want this enough to overlook the fact that the child would grow up under Lucas’s shadow?

A million thoughts raced through her mind: the fear of a future dictated by Lucas, the love she’d always had for the idea of being a mother, the hope that maybe—just maybe—things could change.

“I… I need time to think,” Michelle finally said, her voice firm but trembling. “This is a lot to take in.”

Lucas nodded, though his eyes betrayed a hint of disappointment. “Of course.”