Bound by law

Chapter 33:Signing the Line

The pen felt heavier than it should have in Estelle's hand, the weight of her decision pressing down on her with every breath she took. The room was silent, except for the quiet ticking of the clock on Celeste's desk. Estelle could feel the intensity of Celeste's gaze on her—unwavering, hungry, as though she was watching every second, waiting for the final moment when Estelle would seal her fate.

The papers in front of her were standard enough—an internship agreement, the kind she'd seen before. But this wasn't just an internship. This wasn't just a job. This was a claim, a possessive act. Celeste's way of keeping her close, of marking what was hers. Estelle knew that once she signed, there would be no turning back. She would be bound to Celeste, in more ways than one.

Her hand hovered over the page, her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes flicked up briefly to meet Celeste's, and the intensity in her professor's gaze made her breath catch. Celeste's expression was controlled, but there was a fire in her eyes—a deep, unyielding desire that made Estelle's pulse quicken.

"Go ahead," Celeste murmured, her voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down Estelle's spine. "You know you want to."

Estelle swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the pen. She wanted to resist, wanted to push back against the control Celeste was exerting over her, but part of her—deep down—wanted this too. She had felt it ever since their first encounter, that pull, that undeniable magnetism that drew her to Celeste like a moth to a flame.

Her eyes dropped back to the papers. All she had to do was sign. One stroke of the pen, and it would be done. She would be bound to Celeste, locked into this dangerous, intoxicating dynamic between them.

Do it, she thought. You've already crossed so many lines.

Without thinking any further, Estelle pressed the tip of the pen to the paper and signed her name.

The moment her signature flowed across the line, she felt a strange rush of adrenaline—like she had just stepped over the edge of a cliff and was free-falling into the unknown. The air in the room seemed to shift, growing heavier, more charged, as if the very act of signing had changed everything between them.

Estelle placed the pen down, her hands trembling slightly, her heart still racing in her chest. She stared at the ink, her name staring back at her in bold strokes. It was done.

She could feel Celeste's eyes on her, watching her every move, every breath. Slowly, she looked up, meeting Celeste's gaze once again. The smirk on Celeste's lips was subtle, but it was there, unmistakable—filled with satisfaction, with a possessive hunger that made Estelle's stomach flip.

"Good girl," Celeste said softly, her voice dripping with approval, the praise sending a shiver of heat through Estelle's body.

Estelle's breath hitched, her pulse quickening at the sound of those words. Celeste moved closer, her eyes never leaving Estelle's face as she reached out, running her fingers gently along the edge of the desk, her movements slow and deliberate. The tension between them was palpable, electric, and Estelle could feel the heat radiating off Celeste's body as she leaned in.

"You've made the right choice," Celeste continued, her voice low and intimate, as though they were the only two people in the world at that moment. "Now, you belong to me."

Estelle's throat tightened, her mind spinning with the weight of what had just happened. She had known, deep down, that this wasn't just about an internship. It was about control. About power. About the dangerous, undeniable pull between them that neither of them could ignore any longer.

Celeste reached out and tilted Estelle's chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze. The touch was firm, possessive, but there was a strange tenderness there too—an acknowledgment of what they both knew but hadn't yet fully admitted.

"You're mine now, Estelle," Celeste whispered, her eyes dark with desire. "And I don't share."

The words sent a shock of heat through Estelle's body, her breath catching in her throat. She was trapped, caught in the web Celeste had woven around her, and yet, part of her wanted to be caught. Part of her wanted to surrender.

Celeste's thumb brushed lightly across Estelle's lower lip, her touch soft but commanding. "From now on, you answer to me. You work for me. You belong to me. Do you understand?"

Estelle nodded, her throat dry, her body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. She knew what she was agreeing to, knew that this was far more than just a professional arrangement. This was personal, deeply personal, and the intensity between them was only growing stronger with every passing second.

"I understand," Estelle whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes locked on Celeste's.

Celeste's smirk widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Estelle's ear as she whispered, "Good."

The air between them was thick with tension, the electricity crackling in the small space between their bodies. Celeste pulled back slightly, her eyes roaming over Estelle's face, her fingers still resting lightly on her chin.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence heavy and charged. Then, with a satisfied hum, Celeste turned and walked back to her desk, leaving Estelle sitting there, her heart still racing, her mind spinning with everything that had just happened.

Celeste picked up the signed papers and slid them neatly into a folder, her movements calm and efficient, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place. But there was a glint in her eyes, a smug satisfaction that told Estelle everything she needed to know.

"You've made the right choice, Estelle," Celeste said, her tone returning to that cool, composed authority she always carried. "And now, you'll learn what it really means to work under me."

Estelle's mind swirled with the implications of those words, her pulse still racing as she stood from the desk. She didn't know what was coming next, but she knew one thing for sure—this wasn't just an internship.

This was the beginning of something much more dangerous.