The silence of her paradise had begun to press on Lexi.
Days had turned into weeks of sparring, training, cooking, and strategizing, but the novelty of her perfect space dulled eventually. Derek was ever-present, loyal, tireless. He obeyed without hesitation, carried out her every order, stood guard like a living statue.
And Lexi… grew bored.
She had learned long ago that boredom was her greatest enemy. It made her restless, reckless, hungry for chaos. And now, with Derek as her only company, she turned her sharp gaze toward him.
Derek, who never looked at her with hunger.
Derek, who never flinched under her teasing smiles.
Derek, who could not be tempted, broken, or distracted.
It was infuriating.
It was fascinating.
So Lexi decided to play a game.
The day it began, they had just finished a brutal spar. She had pushed herself harder than usual, twisting and darting around him, sweat dripping down her neck as she landed a final strike against his chest. Derek didn't react to the blade pressing lightly against him; he only lowered his head in surrender.
"Victory is yours, Mistress," he said, voice calm, as though the outcome had been inevitable.
Lexi smirked, her chest heaving. "Of course it is."
She sheathed her weapon, wiped her face, and strutted toward the pond to bathe. Her body ached deliciously, her muscles alive with tension, and as the cool water slid over her, she closed her eyes and thought of Nathan.
His fire, his frustration, his lips against hers.
Derek could never replicate that—not truly. But perhaps he could be… molded.
By the time she emerged, wrapped in fresh clothes, her lips curved into a sly smile.
Derek stood as always outside her bedroom door, silent and immaculate. She had long ago ordered him to maintain perfect hygiene, and he followed it religiously. His uniform was spotless, his dark hair slicked back, his scent clean. Though unfeeling, he looked almost human—charming, even, if not for the emptiness in his eyes.
Lexi leaned against the doorframe, her gaze lingering on him with deliberate slowness. "You look presentable enough to be more than just a guard, Derek."
He bowed slightly. "I exist only to serve you, Mistress."
Her smirk widened. Good. Then serve me in my boredom.
"Come inside," she commanded.
Derek obeyed without question, stepping into her chamber. The air inside smelled faintly of her—fresh water, soft herbs, and something sweetly dangerous. He stood at attention until she gestured at the bed.
"Sit."
He sat.
Lexi approached slowly, her eyes glinting with mischief. She climbed onto the bed, straddling his legs without hesitation, her hands pressing against his chest. His body was warm, solid, and unyielding beneath her touch, though he didn't move a muscle unless directed.
She tilted her head, studying his blank but obedient face. "You don't feel, do you, Derek?"
"No, Mistress."
Her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered, "Perfect. That means I can do whatever I want with you."
She kissed him.
Derek did not react. His lips stayed still, but he allowed her to press against him, to guide the kiss as she pleased. His breath was steady, unchanging, his body immovable.
Lexi pulled back with a smirk, her eyes glittering with dangerous delight. "Obedient. Always obedient. You don't resist, you don't desire—you just… obey."
She trailed her fingers along his jawline, down the column of his throat, reveling in the control. Her lips ghosted across his skin, her voice low and taunting. "Do you know how tempting that is, Derek? To have someone so completely mine?"
Derek's gaze remained steady. "I exist only for you, Mistress."
Her laugh was soft and wicked. She leaned in, pressing her mouth against his again, this time biting lightly, teasing, testing. Still, he didn't resist. He didn't respond. He simply let her take what she wanted.
And that, somehow, thrilled her even more.
Lexi moved against him slowly, savoring the sensation of absolute dominance. She guided his hands, placing them where she pleased—on her waist, on her thighs—though he made no move unless directed. He was not a man indulging her; he was a tool, an extension of her will.
And she loved it.
Every kiss, every touch, every command fed into her dark amusement. Derek was her knight, her soldier. Unlike Nathan, he didn't argue, didn't resist, didn't break into fury when she teased him, didn't try to control her. He simply existed for her use.
Her smirk deepened as she pulled back, staring into his empty yet loyal eyes. "You're perfect, Derek. No distractions. No rebellion. Just mine."
Her laughter rang softly in the room, low and dangerous.
Afterward, when she finally slid off his lap, she lay back on her bed, her lips still curved in satisfaction. Derek stood once more at the door, silent, composed, as though nothing had happened.
And perhaps for him, nothing had.
But for Lexi, it was everything.
Because she had proven—to herself more than anyone—that she could seduce even the unfeeling. That she could bend any being, human or otherwise, to her will. That even in her boredom, she was still the one in control.
Her fingers brushed her lips, recalling the stillness of his kiss, the obedience in his silence.
"Good boy," she whispered into the shadows, her smirk glinting.