Voileting The Oath

(Dr. Elias Voss's POV)

The morning light filtered through the half-closed blinds of my office, casting long shadows across the oak desk and the neutral-toned furniture I'd chosen precisely because it revealed nothing. Neutral ground. Safe space. A place where control was supposed to remain absolute.

I had reviewed Nova Kane's file twice already. Twenty-one. Heiress to one of the most powerful family empires in the city. Recent public breakdown. Severe behavioral issues flagged by her father-though Victor Kane's cold email had been more threat than referral. "Fix her. Discreetly."

As if people like the Kanes ever allowed themselves to be truly fixed.

I adjusted my cufflinks and glanced at the clock. 10:02 AM. She was late. A small act of rebellion, no doubt. They always tested boundaries first.

The door finally opened without a knock.

She stepped in like she owned the room-and everything in it.

Nova Kane was dangerously beautiful. Long dark waves cascading over one shoulder, warm brown skin glowing under the soft lighting, and a body wrapped in a dress that walked the razor's edge between elegant and obscene. Her eyes-sharp, arrogant, and far too knowing-locked onto mine immediately. There was no hesitation. No vulnerability on display yet.

Only challenge.

"Dr. Voss," she purred, her voice low and velvet-smooth as she closed the door behind her. She didn't sit. Instead, she drifted toward the leather couch, hips swaying with deliberate grace, before lowering herself onto it with the fluidity of someone who knew exactly how her body affected people. The hem of her dress rode high on her thighs. She made no effort to adjust it.

I remained seated behind my desk for a moment longer than necessary, maintaining the physical barrier. Professional distance.

"Miss Kane," I said calmly, keeping my tone even, measured. The one I'd perfected over years of practice. "Thank you for coming. Please, make yourself comfortable."

A slow, wicked smile curved her full lips. "Oh, I plan to."

She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them just as slowly, her gaze never leaving mine. The air in the room felt heavier already. Charged. I could sense the game beginning-the way she was studying me, cataloging weaknesses, deciding how best to dismantle the man she'd been sent to.

I folded my hands on the desk. "Your father mentioned some recent difficulties. Would you like to start by telling me what brings you here today?"

Nova leaned back against the couch, letting her head tilt slightly. The movement exposed the elegant line of her neck. "Difficulties," she echoed, tasting the word like it amused her. "That's such a polite way to say it, Doctor. I fuck too much. I can't stop. Even when it doesn't feel like anything anymore. I wake up with my hand between my legs and I still feel... empty."

Her words were explicit, but delivered with clinical detachment-like she was testing whether I would flinch. I didn't.

Instead, I held her gaze steadily. "And how does that emptiness feel in the moments when you're not chasing relief?"

For the briefest second, something flickered behind her arrogant mask. A shadow. Real pain, quickly buried beneath another layer of seduction. She shifted again on the couch, her dress slipping higher. The scent of her-something expensive mixed with a faint, unmistakable trace of recent intimacy-drifted across the space between us.

She was testing me. Weaponizing her body and her truth at the same time.

I felt the pull. Not just physical-though that was undeniable-but the deeper psychological one. The broken girl behind the heiress armor. The one who believed she could control everyone by giving them what they wanted.

Including me.

I leaned forward slightly, keeping my voice low and controlled. "This is a safe space, Nova. But it only works if we're honest. Games won't help you."

Her eyes darkened with delight. "Games?" She let out a soft, throaty laugh. "Doctor, I haven't even started playing yet."

(Nova Kane's POV)

He didn't flinch.

Most men would have shifted in their seat, let their eyes drop to my thighs, or cleared their throat like nervous schoolboys. Not Dr. Elias Voss. He sat there like a fortress-calm, composed, those sharp gray eyes steady on mine as if my words were simply data to be analyzed.

It pissed me off.

It excited me.

For the first time in months, the emptiness inside my chest felt... interrupted. There was a spark. A real one. Not the cheap chemical high I got from strangers or Marcus or my own fingers. This was something sharper. Dangerous. He was older, controlled, and clearly fighting to stay professional. The perfect forbidden fruit.

I uncrossed my legs again, letting them part just enough that the cool air of his office kissed my bare skin. No panties. I wondered if he could tell. If he could smell the evidence of last night still on me.

"You want honesty, Doctor?" I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees so the neckline of my dress dipped lower. "Fine. My family is a fucking illusion. My father cares more about the Kane legacy than whether I'm breathing. My mother smiles like a queen while she's getting fucked by men half her age behind his back. And my boyfriend?" I laughed bitterly. "He's convenient. Good on paper. Terrible where it counts."

Elias's expression didn't change, but I caught the subtle tightening of his jaw. Good. I was getting under his skin.

"I use sex to shut it all up," I continued, my voice dropping lower, more intimate. "The louder I moan, the quieter the void gets. For a few seconds, anyway." I bit my lower lip, holding his gaze. "Last night I let four different men fuck me. Came home and still had to destroy my pussy with a toy until sunrise. And you know what I felt when it was over?"

I paused, letting the silence stretch.

"Nothing."

I stood slowly and took a few steps closer to his desk, my heels clicking softly against the floor. Not close enough to touch. Just close enough to invade his carefully maintained space.

"But sitting here right now, talking to you..." My eyes traced his broad shoulders, the strong line of his jaw, the way his hands stayed perfectly still on the desk. "I feel something. A spark. You're trying so hard to stay in control, Doctor Voss. It's almost admirable."

I tilted my head, letting my hair fall over one shoulder. "Tell me-does it turn you on? Knowing your patient walked in here still sore from being used? Still wet? Still broken?"

His control was impressive. He didn't look away. Didn't scold me. But I saw it-the tiniest flicker in those gray eyes. Conflict. Curiosity. Maybe even hunger.

It made my pulse race.

I wasn't just playing anymore. I wanted to crack him open. I wanted to see what lay beneath all that professional armor. Because for once, the idea of using someone didn't feel completely empty.

It felt like the beginning of an obsession.