Chapter 14: The Unbinding
The loft was no longer a dungeon.
It still held echoes of what it used to be—the dark wood floors, the framed mirrors, the hooks in the ceiling—but now there was light. Actual light. Sunlight streamed through half-open curtains. Fresh flowers sat on the kitchen counter. A soft jazz melody drifted through the air, replacing the mechanical hum of tools and chains.
Jenika stood barefoot in the middle of the room, holding a mug of coffee. She wore Alex’s shirt—too big, unbuttoned at the top, falling just below her thighs. The silk collar was around her neck, not as a command, but as a comfort.
Alex came out of the shower, towel slung around his waist, his hair damp and unruly. He looked at her like she was something fragile and fireproof at once.
“You slept well,” he said, watching her.
“I did.” She sipped. “It’s easier now.”
“Since?”
“Since I stopped being afraid I’d wake up back in that cold version of this place.”
Alex stepped closer, reaching to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “We burned that version to the ground together.”
She smiled faintly. “Yeah. We did.”
But under that smile, something still stirred. A quiet ache. A doubt that wouldn’t die.
“You’re still thinking,” he said, reading her with ease.
Jenika hesitated. “I keep wondering if we’re just pretending to be normal.”
“Do you want to be normal?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I want us. Whatever this is. But part of me…” She exhaled. “Part of me doesn’t know who I am without the pain. Without the submission.”
Alex’s expression softened, but there was no pity in it. Only knowing.
“You don’t have to throw any part of yourself away to be with me,” he said. “You just have to stop hiding inside it.”
Jenika lowered her mug.
“That’s what scares me.”
“I know.” He took her hand. “But you’re not doing it alone anymore.”
Later that afternoon, Alex took her to a place he’d never shown her before.
It wasn’t a club. Or a dungeon. It was a studio—a massive, sun-drenched room tucked in an old warehouse in the city’s arts district. The walls were covered in abstract paintings, all bold colors and emotion.
In the center of the room was a massive canvas—untouched.
“This is where I go when I can’t be Alex-the-Dominant,” he said. “Where I let everything spill out.”
Jenika walked slowly, taking in the room. “You paint here?”
“Every week.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because it was the one place I didn’t control anything. The mess, the color, the feeling—it all happens without structure. It terrified me.”
“And now?”
He looked at her. “Now I want to share it with you.”
She turned toward him, eyes wide.
“Then give me the brush.”
They painted for hours. With hands, not tools. Color exploded across the canvas like raw emotion—blue for regret, red for longing, gold for the parts of them being remade.
At one point, Jenika took a streak of black and smeared it across her collarbone. Alex laughed—a sound she’d never heard from him. Not low and dangerous. But real.
She turned and painted a single line across his chest.
“War paint,” she teased.
“For what?”
“For everything we’re still unlearning.”
That night, they lay side by side in bed, bare skin against bare skin, sweat still clinging to them.
But there were no restraints. No rules. Just tangled sheets and breathless silence.
“I need to tell you something,” Jenika whispered in the dark.
Alex shifted. “I’m listening.”
“There’s a part of me… that still wants the pain sometimes. Not because I feel worthless. Not because I need to be punished. But because that part of me craves the edge. The surrender. The release.”
“I know,” he said gently.
“But I’m afraid if we give that part room again, it’ll pull us back into what we were. The version of us that couldn’t see each other.”
Alex turned onto his side and cupped her cheek.
“Then we give it space—with rules we make together. Not rituals that mask fear. Not orders that fill voids. But expressions of what we want, when we want it. On terms we both write in ink.”
Jenika’s throat tightened. “You’d do that for me?”
He smiled faintly. “No. I’d do that with you.”
The next morning, the test came.
Not from within—but from the outside.
Alex’s old associate, Marcus, showed up at the loft without warning. A man from the past. Polished. Dominant. Dangerous.
Alex opened the door with Jenika beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
Marcus raised a brow.
“Didn’t expect to see you like this,” Marcus said.
“Like what?”
“Tame.”
Alex’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t bite. “I’m not tame. I’m free.”
Marcus chuckled. “You? The man who built control like religion? I came to invite you back. The syndicate’s growing again. We’re building a new house. Prestige. High-end.”
“Not interested.”
“You sure?” Marcus glanced at Jenika. “She looks like she remembers what it felt like to kneel.”
Jenika didn’t flinch. She stepped forward, locking eyes with Marcus.
“I remember. I also remember breaking the leash.”
Marcus smirked. “Feisty.”
“No,” Alex said, stepping between them. “She’s sovereign. And if you ever talk to her like that again, I’ll remind you what restraint really means.”
There was no anger in his voice.
Only finality.
Marcus held his gaze for a long moment, then shrugged.
“Your loss.”
When the door closed behind him, Jenika let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“You didn’t even hesitate,” she said.
“Not once.”
And in that silence, something between them clicked into place.
Unshakeable.
That night, she took his hand and led him—not to the basement. Not to the studio.
To the balcony.
Naked under the stars, she knelt. Not because she was told. Not because she had to.
But because she chose to.
Alex stood above her, heart pounding, the cool breeze dancing across their skin.
“I offer this part of myself to you,” she whispered. “Not because I am less. But because I trust you to never forget that I am whole.”
He dropped to his knees with her.
Took her face in his hands.
And kissed her like a man who had finally been unbound.
***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***
Updated 37 Episodes
Download
Like this story? Download the app to keep your reading history.
Comments