Tyler, despite his pain, forced himself to speak, his voice raw and desperate. "No... Mother, don't—" His body trembled violently, his face twisted in agony as he reached out toward Nathalie, his fingers clawing at the air as if he could pull her back from the edge.

Nathalie's breath caught in her throat. She turned her gaze from Tyler to Angela, her eyes filled with a mix of despair and resignation. "I..." Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. "I am willing."

The words hung in the air like a curse, heavy and suffocating. Tyler's face crumpled, his sobs turning into a broken wail. "Mom, no—please, no!" His voice was shattered, his body convulsing as if the words alone had struck him.

Angela's smile widened, triumphant and cruel. "Good choice," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I knew you'd see reason." She straightened, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement as she gestured toward me. "Then let's not waste any more time."

Nathalie's hands trembled as she pushed herself up from the floor, her legs barely supporting her weight. She avoided Tyler's gaze, unable to face the devastation in his eyes. Her voice was hollow, her words barely a whisper. "Just... spare him. That's all I ask."

She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she forced out the words. "Can... Can I take a shower first, please?"

Angela's smirk was slow and deliberate, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "Fine. We have time." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a taunting whisper.

"But make sure you wash everywhere, Nathalie. Especially that tight little asshole of yours. I want you spotless for Master."

Nathalie's face paled, her eyes widening in shock and humiliation. "W-what?" she stammered, her voice cracking.

Angela's laugh was cold, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "You heard me. Or do you need me to spell it out for you?" She turned away, dismissing Nathalie with a wave of her hand. "Now go. And don't take too long. Master doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Nathalie stumbled toward the bathroom, her cheeks burning with shame, her hands shaking as she closed the door behind her. Tyler's sobs echoed through the room, his body wracked with desperate, broken cries.

Angela sauntered over to me, her hips swaying deliberately, her voice purring with anticipation. "That... Master—"

I pulled Angela into my arms, cutting her off with a firm but tender grip. "I told you, my name is Dexter. You can call me that." My voice was a low, velvety command, my hands sliding down the curve of her back, feeling the heat of her body through the thin, clinging fabric of her dress.

The material was soft beneath my fingertips, but it was her—the way her breath hitched, the way her body leaned into mine—that made my pulse quicken. "And I treat you as my woman, not my servant," I murmured, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, feeling her shiver in response.

Angela melted against me, her head resting against my chest as if she'd finally found a place to surrender. Her voice was soft, trembling with relief and something deeper—something raw and aching.

"Dexter..." She hesitated, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt, as if she needed to anchor herself. "About my daughters... I need to send people to find them. I need to know that they are safe. I need to see them again."

I looked down at her, my fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on her lower back, feeling the way her muscles tensed and relaxed beneath my touch. "Don't worry, Angela," I said, my voice a low rumble, meant to soothe but also to claim.

"I know where they are. I've met them before." I let the words sink in, watching the way her breath caught, the way her eyes flickered up to meet mine. "Haven't I told you? I traveled through time by accident. I lived in a tribe—that's where I met them. They're safe. I promise you that."

Angela's eyes widened, her breath hitching as she pulled back slightly to search my face. "You met them?" Her voice was a mix of disbelief and fragile hope, her body pressing closer to mine, as if she could absorb the truth through my skin.

"You actually saw my daughters? You know where she is?" Her hands slid up my chest, gripping the lapels of my jacket, her touch desperate, almost pleading.

I nodded, my hand cupping her chin, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. My thumb brushed over her bottom lip, feeling the way it trembled beneath my touch. "Yes, Angela. I saw them. They're safe." My voice was steady, unyielding, but my touch was gentle, almost reverent. "And once this is over, I'll take you to them. You'll see her again. You'll hold her again."

A tear slipped down Angela's cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something—thank you, maybe, or I can't believe it—but I didn't let her. My lips crashed onto hers before she could utter another word, my kiss hungry, demanding, consuming.

My tongue slid into her mouth, tasting the salt of her tears, the sweetness of her relief, the heat of her desire. Angela moaned softly, her body arching into mine, her hands gripping my shoulders like she was drowning and I was the only thing keeping her afloat.

I could feel her nipples hardening against my chest, the way her breath came in short, ragged gasps as my kiss deepened, my hands roaming down her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. My cock throbbed painfully against my pants, growing harder with every whimper that escaped her lips, every shuddering breath she took.

I pulled back just enough to look down at Angela, my voice a low, teasing growl. "Where is my reward?" My fingers traced the curve of her hip, my grip possessive, my eyes dark with anticipation.

Angela's eyes sparkled with wicked delight, her lips curling into a slow, sinful smile. "Oh, I already prepared it for you," she purred, her voice dripping with malice and something darker—something that sent a jolt of heat straight to my cock.

"Did you see her face when I told her to wash her asshole?" She let out a soft, mocking laugh, her fingers tracing the outline of my cock through my pants, her touch deliberate, teasing.

"Priceless. She's probably in there right now, crying, scrubbing herself raw, knowing she has no choice but to let you fuck her however you want. Knowing she has to spread her legs for you, to take every inch of you, just to save that pathetic son of hers."

The image flashed in my mind—Nathalie on her knees, trembling, her body slick with water, her fingers shaking as she prepared herself for me. My cock twitched violently, straining against my pants, the thought alone nearly enough to push me over the edge.

My grip on Angela tightened, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her waist. "Good," I growled, my voice rough with arousal and something feral. "She needs to understand who's in control here. She needs to learn what happens when she's at my mercy."

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