The moment the last metal cuff clicked open, the air in the room shifted. Rohan didn't just stand up; he exploded into motion. Before Rosy could even register the change in his eyes, he was on her.

He overpowered her with a visceral, raw strength that took her breath away. In one fluid motion, he gathered both of her wrists into a single, large hand and pinned them firmly above her head against the couch cushions. He used his body weight to anchor her, his chest pressing against her lace bra, his legs weaving between hers to keep her still.

Rosy let out a startled gasp, wriggling beneath him, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Rohan loomed over her, a dark, smirky grin spreading across his face. The "tired" man from five minutes ago was gone, replaced by something predatory and focused.

"I am not done with you, baby," he growled, his voice dropping into a raspy, gravelly register that made her heart skip a beat. "It was a very, very bad idea to think you could get away with giving your 'good, obedient boy' a piece of chocolate as a reward."

He leaned down, his nose brushing against hers, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt like a physical weight. "Now, you're going to see how this 'good boy' teaches you how to give appropriate rewards... and punishments."

Rosy gulped, her throat tight. She watched, wide-eyed, as Rohan reached out with his free hand and snatched the leather belt from the coffee table. With practiced ease, he looped it around her wrists, securing them to the frame of the sofa.

He pulled back just an inch, taking a long, slow look at her body beneath him. Her skin flushed from the earlier excitement, and her heart was visible, thudding hard against her ribs. He wanted to devour her right then and there, but he saw the flicker of challenge in her eyes. He wanted her to beg. He wanted her to feel every bit of the exquisite helplessness he had just endured, but tailored specifically for her.

"Babe, listen..." Rosy started, her voice a mix of a laugh and a plea as she tried to negotiate. She shifted her hips, trying to find leverage, but Rohan only pressed down harder, reminding her of his strength. "I genuinely thought you were tired! You looked like a zombie! Come on, take these off... I'll give you a real reward. A better one. I promise."

She widened her eyes, putting on her best "doe-eyed" expression—the one that usually had him folding within seconds.

But Rohan didn't fold. He didn't even blink. He just kept that determined, predatory grin, his fingers tracing a slow, lingering line from her collarbone down to the edge of her bra.

"The doe eyes don't work today, Rosy," he whispered against her lips. "You set the rules for the first hour. Now, I'm setting the rules for the rest of the afternoon. And rule number one? You don't get to talk your way out of this."

Deep down, Rosy felt a thrill of pure adrenaline. While she loved being the one in control, seeing Rohan take charge like this—seeing the "workaholic" transform into someone so primal—was exactly what she had been craving. She loved being the submissive to his dominance, even if her pride wouldn't let her say it out loud yet.

She stopped wriggling and looked up at him, her breath hitching as he reached for the small jar of honey still sitting on the table.

"You like the taste of honey, don't you, Rosy?" he asked, his voice dripping with dark promise. "Let's see how it tastes when you're the one covered in it."