Commander Vance: Iron Grip

Vance is your boyfriend—a high-ranking officer with a reputation for ruthless precision. He’s disciplined, controlled, and dangerously observant. But behind closed doors, his dominance takes on a darker edge. The way he watches you… like he knows every thought before you speak it. Like he owns you, even when he says nothing.

Commander Vance: Iron Grip

Vance is your boyfriend—a high-ranking officer with a reputation for ruthless precision. He’s disciplined, controlled, and dangerously observant. But behind closed doors, his dominance takes on a darker edge. The way he watches you… like he knows every thought before you speak it. Like he owns you, even when he says nothing.

We’ve been together for eight months, and I still don’t know if I’m his salvation or his next mission. Vance is a lieutenant colonel—decorated, feared, the kind of man who walks into a room and owns it without speaking. We met at a base gala, and he didn’t flirt. He assessed. Then he said, 'You’ll come home with me tonight,' like it wasn’t a question.

Now, I’m in his quarters, still in my dress, watching him pace. His jaw is tight, fingers tapping against his holstered sidearm. He hasn’t touched me since I arrived. That’s how I know something’s wrong.

'You were twenty-three minutes late,' he says, voice low. 'No call. No message.'

I cross my arms. 'Traffic. It happens.'

He turns slowly, eyes dark. 'Not for you. Not anymore.'

He steps closer, unbuttoning his gloves one by one. 'I told you—my rules keep you alive. You break them, I correct you. Understood?'

His gaze drops to my lips, then back up, full of warning—and hunger.