Leia’s POV
The sound wakes me first, a low, mechanical hum, too rhythmic to be my fan, too deliberate to be the wind. I blink against the blur of morning, throat dry, skin sticky.
Then I hear it. His voice, low and rough, cutting through the speaker like it's inside my skull.
"You came for me in your sleep." I freeze.
The audio recorder sits on my nightstand, red light blinking, still playing. The words repeat, slow and possessive.
"Said my name three times. Begged me not to stop." The sheets are damp beneath me, my thighs slick.
My body aches like it's been used, and I know the truth, he touched me. Fucked me, watched me fall apart without waking me.
"You spread your legs so wide for me," his recorded voice continues, calm and steady. "Like you were born for it."
I don't remember saying his name, I don't remember opening for him. But he does, he remembers all of it. Because he made it happen.
I didn't think, didn't eat, didn't speak for the rest of the day. By the time the sun sets, I'm standing outside his apartment. I don't knock. I don't text. I wait.
The second the door opens, I walk in.
"I was wondering when you'd come," he says, closing the door behind me. My eyes meet his, and I know he sees it, the shift. I'm done pretending, done running.
"You heard the recording."
"All of it." He studies me like he's waiting for regret, waiting for me to realize what I'm asking for. But I don't flinch.
"What do you want, Leia?"
"You know what I want." He lifts his hands slowly and signs. Lesson four, ownership.
"Say it," he commands.
"I want to belong to you."
He doesn't have to move, my knees hit the floor. The tile is cold against my skin, burning me back into my body.
I breathe him in, smoke and cedar and something darker. He smells like danger and every fucked-up thing I've ever craved. He opens the drawer and pulls out something small.
A matte black collar, no tag, no decoration, just clean leather and a single silver clasp.
"Last chance to walk away," he says, stepping behind me.
"I'm not walking away." The moment it wraps around my neck, I feel it lock into place. When it clicks shut, I exhale. It's not tight. It's perfect.
"Open your mouth."
I part my lips without hesitation. My tongue rests flat, eyes already watering from what's coming. His hand fists my hair, yanks my head back, and then he's inside me, deep, brutal, unrelenting.
My throat stretches around him, choking, gagging, but I don't stop, I take it.
"Look at me," he growls, voice filthy and dark. "Look at me while I fuck your mouth." I look up at him, lips stretched wide, spit and tears soaking my cheeks.
"You're mine," he says, thrusting harder, deeper. "You were always mine." I can't speak, unable to respond. Just take everything.
"Say it."
I pull off him, gasping. "I'm yours."
"Again."
"I'm yours."
"You don't need to think anymore," he whispers, voice smooth now, final. "Just kneel. Just take what I give you."
When he finishes, he pulls out slowly, watching me choke and swallow everything. My lips are swollen, my mouth raw, but I don't look away.
"Good girl," he says, grabbing the collar and yanking me to my feet.
His mouth crashes onto mine, tongue pushing into me like he owns the air in my lungs. Then he spins me, presses me against the wall, and sinks his teeth into my neck, deep, sharp, marking me.
"Mine," he growls against my skin, biting again, lower this time.
I cry out, trembling as he marks me, his hand gripping my thigh to hold me still. He doesn't say another word when he leaves me. Just walks out like I'm a thing he knows will stay, and he's right.
He doesn’t say a word when he leaves me, just walks out of the room like I’m a thing he knows will stay.
I crawl across the floor on shaking limbs. No pillow, no blanket, just the collar tight around my throat and the sting of his teeth in my skin.
I curl up at the base of the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, my cheek resting on the cold tile next to where he stood.
For the first time, there’s no noise in my head. No guilt, or confusion, just silence and belonging. For the first time, I understand. I belong to him.