Surrender to the Dark Andrea's POV

 I felt the shift before I saw it. A quiet tension in the air. A promise of something heavier than what we’d explored before. Doc’s presence filled the room, dark and undeniable—more than just the man I’d trusted with my body, my heart, and now my soul. Tonight, he wasn’t holding back.

I stood in front of him, hands trembling, eyes locked on his. He wasn’t gentle tonight. He didn’t come to soothe my doubts or offer quiet comfort. Tonight, he wanted to consume me. And I wanted to be consumed. It was a hunger we both shared, an intensity that pulled us further into the depths of each other.

“Strip,” he ordered, his voice calm but laced with something darker.

I obeyed, the fabric of my clothes slipping off my body like water over stone. There was no room for hesitation between us anymore. No words left unspoken. Only the sharp, electric charge that hung in the air.

His eyes tracked every inch of me. He looked at me like he was studying my very soul, stripping away my defenses. There was something in his gaze—possessive, hungry, and yet tender in a way that didn’t seem possible. It both terrified and thrilled me.

“On your knees,” he commanded again.

I sank down, my knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. My chest tightened. But it wasn’t fear. It was a desire so intense it felt like a fire burning through me. I was ready for this side of him, even if I hadn’t fully understood what it would mean.

Doc moved toward me slowly, each step deliberate. He didn’t touch me. Not yet. Instead, he stood in front of me, watching my every movement, my every breath.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, voice low. “You wanted me to push you, Andrea. Tonight, I’m going to break down every part of you. I’m going to make you crave it. Crave me.”

I felt my body react to his words, the heat pooling between my legs, the flush rising on my skin. His control was intoxicating, and I wanted to give in. I needed to give in.

He circled me, then pressed something cold against the nape of my neck—a chain. I shivered at the feel of it, the weight of it. He fastened it around my neck, then tugged it gently, guiding my head to tilt back as I looked up at him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice no longer a question. It was a command.

“Yes,” I whispered, barely able to breathe, yet wanting to say more.

He smiled darkly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Good. Because tonight, you’ll learn what it truly means to be mine.”

He pulled a leather paddle from the table beside us. The sound of it swishing through the air before landing against my bare skin made me gasp. The sting was sharp, but not as painful as the fire that flared to life inside of me.

I moaned, the pleasure-pain coiling around my spine. Doc’s gaze darkened even further as he watched the way my body responded to the impact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you let go,” he murmured, running his hand across my bruised skin. “I love how you fall apart for me.”

He didn’t stop. The paddle was followed by the soft bite of a flogger, each strike building on the last, until my body quivered under his touch. His rhythm was slow, deliberate—every motion calculated, every hit controlled. But the heat inside me kept growing, bubbling until I was gasping for air, aching for more.

Then, without warning, he pulled me up by the chain at my neck, his other hand gripping my waist as he guided me toward the bed. My legs wobbled, but he didn’t let me fall. He held me steady, his voice rasping in my ear as he pressed me down onto the mattress.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, his breath hot against my skin. “And I’ll make you remember it. Every moment, every fucking inch of your body belongs to me now.”

I felt it then—the truth of his words, sinking into my very marrow. He was right. I didn’t just crave him. I needed him, in a way I had never needed anyone. There was no going back now. He had claimed me in a way that was deeper than I ever thought possible.

Doc’s fingers gripped my hips as he moved inside me, his thrusts deep and steady. There was nothing gentle about the way he took me. But it was exactly what I needed. Each stroke, each pull, made me feel like I was dissolving into him. I wasn’t just his in this moment, I was part of him.

“You’re so perfect, Andrea,” he groaned, his hands sliding over my skin. “So fucking perfect.”

His words sent a jolt of desire straight to my core. I could feel every inch of him, every movement, every breath. And it was consuming me.

I cried out as I came, my body shaking, my fingers digging into the sheets. But he didn’t stop. He kept moving, pushing me higher, until I was lost in a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable.

And as I came down from the high, he pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me, his fingers tracing the outline of my body. His touch was softer now—still possessive, but tender. Like he was reclaiming me in a different way.

“I’ll never let you go,” he whispered against my skin. “Not like this. Not now that I’ve had you.”

I felt every word, every promise, sinking deep into me. And as I lay there in his arms, I knew—whatever darkness we both carried, whatever our demons were, we were tethered together now.