Chapter 206: Embrace Mother and Daughter Together

Chapter 206: Chapter 206: Embrace Mother and Daughter Together

Giselle looked at me.

The irritation was still there, but underneath it, something softer and far more dangerous had surfaced.

Caring eyes on Giselle were scarier than any chain she had thrown at my throat.

"What do you want?"

"A Kiss."

She blinked once.

"That was fast."

"I already know the answer. I’m just collecting it."

"Do you now?"

A thin, sceptical line appeared at the corner of her mouth.

"What if this whole black-chain performance is an elaborate trick so you can fuck me again without having to ask properly?"

"Do you honestly think I need a trick for that? We had sex like animals less than twelve hours ago. You bit me. I left marks you’re still wearing. If I wanted a repeat, I could have just said so instead of letting my own power body-slam me in front of you."

Her eyes narrowed.

Then she leaned in and kissed me once: firm, deliberate, over almost before it began, and pulled back.

"Move on."

The black chains didn’t move on.

They stayed exactly where they were, keeping her chest flush to mine and the hard line of my cock nested firmly against the heat between her legs.

’Hey. It’s done. She kissed me. Release the binding.’

[Is it now?]

[Ask for another.]

’You said one.’

[I changed my mind. Negotiation is healthy.]

The links tightened with a metallic whisper, erasing the last millimetre of polite space.

Giselle’s breath hitched.

The new pressure forced an unavoidable grind that made both of us very aware of how little fabric remained between intention and accident.

"You really have a death wish," she muttered against my collarbone.

"First the gold edge nobody taught you, then change the core, now this. What’s the actual shit about caring only for your supporters? The speech you gave Laila in front of half the intake hall. Was that real or just good theatre?"

"It’s true. This—"

I glanced down at the black links and the ridiculous position they had locked us into

"—isn’t all me."

"What is it, then?"

"Complicated. And currently holding my spine hostage."

She tipped her head back just enough to meet my eyes.

The height difference meant every small shift dragged her along the length of me.

A faint, treacherous flush had spread across her cheekbones.

"So ask for what you actually want instead of letting a malfunction negotiate for you."

I exhaled.

"Kiss me again."

Giselle stared at me for a long second, as if weighing the tactical value of compliance versus the satisfaction of leaving me hard and wrapped in my own rogue power.

Then she rose onto the balls of her feet, the only movement the chains still allowed, and kissed me properly.

This one wasn’t a single clean press.

It was slower, deeper, the kind of kiss that remembered the previous night and decided to file a formal complaint about the current working conditions.

Her trapped hand flexed against my chest.

My own hands, still half-tangled in the black links, could only rest at her waist and feel the way her breathing changed.

The voice made a low, appreciative sound.

[Better.]

[Still not enough to satisfy the binding parameters, but better.]

’You are enjoying this too much.’

[Immensely. Your heart rate is excellent. Hers is better. Keep going.]

Giselle broke the kiss just far enough to speak, lips still brushing mine.

"The chains are still there."

"I’m aware."

"Your class is a menace."

"I’m also aware."

"And you’re still hard."

"That particular problem is being caused by an Empress’s daughter who keeps moving while lecturing me."

She moved again on purpose: a small, punishing roll of her hips that dragged a rough sound out of my throat and made the black links hum like they were laughing.

"That," she said, "was for the gold edge you still haven’t explained."

"Cruel."

"Yes."

We stayed locked together, breathing each other’s air, while the binding refused to accept that the required number of kisses had been met.

Every tiny adjustment produced another slow friction that made coherent strategy difficult.

Giselle’s free hand had migrated to the back of my neck.

My forehead rested against hers.

The situation had long since passed "sparring accident" and settled into "we are going to have to live with this memory forever."

[One more,] the voice suggested sweetly.

[A real one. With tongue.]

[I want to feel what she tastes like when she’s trying not to moan.]

’I will find a way to mute you.’

[You can try after she finishes kissing you. Priorities, host.]

Giselle’s eyes had gone half-lidded.

The look was back, layered over calculation and reluctant heat.

"If I kiss you one more time and these things still don’t let go, I’m cutting them with a barrier edge and billing you for the emotional damage."

"Fair."

She kissed me a third time.

This one had tongue.

This one had the faint taste of the blood from my reopened lip.

This one made the black chains shiver hard enough that for a second I thought they might actually release.

Instead they pulsed, drawing us into an even tighter full-body press that left zero doubt about how wet the friction had made her or how little control either of us currently possessed.

Giselle made a small, frustrated noise into my mouth.

I was halfway through deciding whether to apologise or simply accept my fate when the private hall’s outer door gave an authentication chime and slid open.

Yelena walked in.

She took three steps, registered the scene- her daughter bound chest-to-chest and hip-to-hip with the unmarked support by a set of black chains that looked nothing like standard Submission, both of them flushed, breathing hard, and very obviously mid-compromise- and stopped dead.

[Mother and daughter at the same time. How does it sound?]

Silence expanded to fill the entire training wing.

Giselle went rigid.

I went rigid.

The black chains, traitorously, stayed exactly where they were.

Yelena’s red eyes moved from the binding, to the damp spot on the front of Giselle’s pants, to the unmistakable shape pressed against her daughter, and finally to my face.

Her voice, when it came, was mild enough to be terrifying.

"I see the private session is going well."

Giselle closed her eyes.

"Mother."

"Giselle."

Yelena tilted her head a fraction.

"Support. Would either of you care to explain why my daughter is currently gift-wrapped against a man who is supposed to be under observation for anomalous core behaviour?"

Yelena snapped her fingers.

The chains broke without any protest.