BILLIONAIRES: Father or Son

Chapter Twenty-Seven

FLORA'S POV

My heart felt like it was about to explode. The rapid, frantic beat was deafening, making my every breath sound louder in the thick, electric silence between us. "I—I didn't mean to intrude. I just..." I stammered, my gaze darting around, trying to find anything—anything—to focus on other than the dangerous look in Alex's eyes.

But he didn't seem remotely fazed by my weak attempt at an explanation. He took a step inside, closing the door behind him softly, sealing us inside together. The sound of the latch clicking felt like the toll of a bell—a point of no return.

"No need to explain," he murmured, his gaze raking over me like a physical touch. I felt pinned under it, every inch of my skin burning under his scrutiny. "But now that you're here, Miss Roberts... perhaps you would like a proper lesson."

Heat, potent and overwhelming, assailed me as he took another step forward, closing the gap between us until his scent—clean, musky, with a hint of something dark and dangerous—wrapped around me like a vise. I was rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe, as he reached out and gripped my chin with one large, commanding hand.

"Now," he rumbled, his voice a low, dangerous growl that sent shockwaves through me. "You're going to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?"

"Ye- yes," I whispered breathlessly, almost instinctively.

His eyes darkened, the grip on my chin tightening ever so slightly. "You should say, 'Yes, Daddy,'" he corrected, his voice dripping with authority. "Do you understand, little one?"

Oh God. That tone—that tone alone was doing things to me. Things it shouldn't. Things I would definitely regret tomorrow. At this moment, I didn't care about anything else, just to obey his command and please my Daddy.

"Yes, Daddy," I rasped, my voice barely recognizable even to myself.

"Good girl," he murmured, and just like that, I nearly crumbled. Those two words, said in that deep, commanding voice, set my nerves on fire. My legs felt weak. My thoughts spun. What was I doing? I should have been running as fast as my aching ankle could carry me.

But instead, I just stood there, trembling under his touch, feeling like every inch of me was burning alive.

"You want to learn how to be a good sub?" he asked softly, his thumb brushing against my lower lip, lingering there like a promise.

"Yes, Daddy," I replied again, the words slipping out almost on autopilot.

Where was this confidence coming from? Was it the room—the forbidden aura of it—that made me bold? Was it him? The sheer, unshakable dominance he radiated? Or was it something deep inside me, something I had never known existed until right this moment?

You're going to regret this tomorrow, a tiny, panicked voice whispered in my head. You're going to walk into the office and die of shame. Pack up your things and quit. Run, run, run—

But it was drowned out by the roaring pulse in my ears, the heady anticipation flooding my veins.

"Good girl," he repeated softly, his gaze never leaving mine. Then he turned away, walking toward the throne-like chair at the center of the room. It looked even more imposing now that he was approaching it, a seat designed for kings—or perhaps for gods.

When he settled himself down, spreading his legs slightly, my mouth went dry. His expression was one of absolute control, a man who knew exactly what he wanted and expected to get it. And when he looked at me, the heat in his gaze nearly scorched me alive.

"Come here, sweet girl," he ordered softly.

I took a hesitant step forward, my legs wobbly, but he shook his head once, slowly, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah-ah. Not like that." He leaned back in his seat, his eyes glinting wickedly. "Get on your knees and crawl to me."