Falling For My Accidental CEO Husband-Chapter 311: Oh...

She stared at the thick and gleaming chain. She was seeing it for the first time, yes, but she knew exactly what it was. In the middle of the chain sat a soft, black leather belt- a collar. Designed to fasten around a throat or wrist or waist, depending on who held it and what they intended. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

Ella grimaced.

Over the past three months, she had come to dread these sessions the most. Not because they were physically taxing or because she could not handle pain. And definitely not because of what they revealed to her about her. The sessions were an agony to her because of how easily they undid her.

Not Dale. He never touched her more than necessary. He never strayed from the mission. His words were always clipped, cold, professional. And yet... he had brought her over the edge again and again. Not with touches. But with his voice. His control and his unrelenting precision.

He had taught her how to be a Dominant. How to give an order without apology. How to claim space and make people want to obey.

But more than that, he had taught her how to discover herself.

And she hated it. Hated how much she craved these moments. Hated the heat that rose behind her collarbone every time she stepped into this final phase of training. Hated how he never said anything that wasn’t tactical... but still made her feel stripped bare.

Even now, her heart gave a traitorous thud as he picked up the chain and held it out to her, wordless.

She took it feeling the cool metal sliding across her palm. She was about to wear it around her neck when he caught it. Without a word, he tapped his neck.

She looked at him, askance. What did he mean by this? The only time he had actually wanted her to dominate him had been the first time when he had told her to do it. And every time, it had been instructions, or letting her feel it or that one time when he had taken her to that underground club...to see what to expect when a man submits.

Hesitantly, she stepped forward.

The chain somehow, felt heavy in her hand. Even though she had experienced the way it added to the excitement and senses, her fingers trembled as she placed the collar around his neck

He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch or shift or even lower his eyes. He simply waited, staring at her with indifferent eyes.

She brought the collar up slowly, raising it to his throat. Her fingers brushed his skin cool from the air, but steady. His pulse beat strong and steady beneath her touch like a reminder that he was letting her do this. That he was the one yielding but he was also the one in control.

There was no vulnerability in his eyes or a flicker or emotion. Not desire. Not amusement. Not even tension. Just that same unshakable steadiness. As if she were a gust of wind and he were the mountain unmoved by it.

And suddenly, she hated it.

Her fingers curled tighter around the chain. The metal links whispered as they shifted against his chest. She could feel the weight of him and his refusal to give her more than what was required. He always watched. Always calculated. But never reacted.

Without warning, she yanked the chain downward sharply. The collar snapped snug around his throat, forcing his chin to dip a fraction. Still, he didn’t flinch. She stepped into him. Their bodies almost touching and ordered softly," Down."

A single word. Her voice low and clipped, just like his.

To her surprise, he obeyed.

Knees bent. Shoulders relaxed. He knelt down, his eyes downcast.

She circled behind him, a single thought in her mind. If he wouldn’t give her anything, she’d take it.

Without warning, she dropped the chain and stepped back just long enough to stride to the weapons bench. Her fingers curled around a utility blade, designed to cut through anything with a single swipe. When she turned back, Dale hadn’t moved, not even curious about where she went.

She walked towards him and slowly knelt behind him. With one hand, she lifted the hem of his T-shirt and slipped the blade under the fabric. The steel was sharp, cold, and the tip grazed his warm skin as she pushed it upward. The first cut was clean and quiet, the sound of fabric separating sharp and satisfying in the stillness.

She kept going, slicing through the back of his shirt in a steady line from the bottom hem to the collar. The cloth resisted slightly, then gave way, curling back around the line she drew.

He didn’t even breathe differently. That made her angry in a way she couldn’t explain. Not because she wanted him to flinch, but because part of her wanted to know she could reach him. That he was ’here’.

She dug the blade in a little more as she neared his shoulder seam, maybe more than necessary, and the edge caught skin. A thin line of red rose immediately, vivid against the pale muscle of his back.

Still, he didn’t react. Tossing the knife aside, she carefully placed her hands on the two torn sides of the fabric and pushed it aside.

She let her fingers trail over the newly exposed skin. His back was firm, warm, and marked with faint scars from the past. She followed the line of his spine, then the edge of his shoulder blade, brushing the blood with her thumb just to see if he’d respond.

He didn’t.

So, she leaned forward and slowly slid her hands around his waist, fingers splayed across the hard lines of his abdomen. She leaned forward until her chest nearly brushed his back, until her mouth hovered just above the cut she’d made.

Then, deliberately, she lowered her head and licked the blood away.

Just once. A single, slow motion. Followed by a small kiss. And that was when he flinched.

It wasn’t obvious. But she felt it, and that single move made her feel powerful enough. Slowly, she traced her lips along the lines of his scars, all old and new....

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