The First Lesson

Aria’s POV: I was late. Not fashionably. Not dramatically. Just enough that my heart was pounding when I knocked. Wolfe didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. That would’ve been too easy. These past days, I had been thinking too much about him. That night, I had been thinking of him touching me the way I wanted, to f**k me where I wanted.

I tried the handle. Unlocked. Inside, his office was empty—except for the envelope waiting on his desk with my name written in black calligraphy. Another envelope. Another game. I didn’t hesitate. Not this time. I opened it with trembling fingers. I wanted something more intriguing than last time, something that would make him touch me, and I wanted to feel him all over my body. ”Go to Room 207.

Now. Do not knock. Do not speak. Obey.” That was it. One line. No signature. I knew where Room 207 was; my body already moved before my brain could argue. My pulse was a drumbeat in my ears as I climbed the marble steps of the east building. Room 207 was tucked at the end of a silent hallway. The door looked ordinary, wooden and dark. I stared at it for a moment before I twisted the knob. It was dim inside.

Curtains drawn. One long table at the center. No chairs. And him—standing at the head of it, hands clasped behind his back. Wolfe. “Close the door,” he said without turning. I obeyed. “Lock it.” The click of the lock felt louder than it should’ve. “Strip.” My heart stopped. “What?” Did he just want me naked? He turned slowly. His eyes dragged down my body from my head; he paused slowly when he reached my breasts.

I felt happy with the way he was looking at me, but I didn’t show it. I used my hands to hide my n*****s. He put on a smirk at my actions. “Aria..,” he said, licking his lips. His gaze lingered on my p***y, and I couldn’t help but wish it was his tongue instead. “I said, strip. You’re not here as a student today. You’re here as my subject.” “Subject,” I echoed. My voice barely a whisper. “I told you this would escalate. This is your first test.” I looked at the door, then back at him. Then I obeyed. One button at a time.

One layer after another. Until I stood before him in nothing but skin and fear. He said nothing for a moment. Just looked at me. Not like a man staring at a girl, but like a master assessing his canvas. “Come here,” he said lustfully. I walked. He didn’t touch me—yet my body ached for it, my mind craving the heat of his hands. This was a man old enough to be my father but still, I didn’t care. He just circled. His voice a low hum of control. “Shame doesn’t serve you, Aria. Fear will, for now. But eventually, I’ll take that too.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a leather collar. “This is not a symbol of ownership,” he said. “It’s a symbol of choice. Yours.” I stared at it. “Put it on,”