“I’ll count for you. When I say three, you blow out hard. Yes?”

“Yes, sir,” she said between shallow breaths.

“One...two...three,” and on three she pushed her air out as he pushed the needle through, and felt nothing more than a quick pinch. He’d hurt her far worse before. This was nothing.

“Good girl,” Søren said and she rose up and saw his blond head between her wide-open thighs and her feet in the stirrups, a sight that would linger long after that night in her most private fantasies.

Carefully, not moving the lower half of her body at all, Eleanor rose up on her hands to see him finish the piercing. He took the ring and threaded it through the hole made by the needle. With his dexterous fingers, he fastened it with the small steel ball.

“It is finished,” Søren said. She looked down at the ring and into Søren’s eyes. He pushed two fingers inside her and her hands clutched the edge of the table as he opened her up. He still had the gloves on. While he spread her wide they kissed again. When he pulled his fingers out of her, they were quickly replaced with his cock deep inside her. He unbuttoned his shirt, the one she wore, not the one he wore, and held her breasts in his hands, rubbing her nipples until they hardened. Unable to sit up any longer she rolled back and arched into his hands, into his penetration. Her clitoris throbbed as blood rushed to the area. She felt everything, every movement. Her clitoris had never been so sensitive or receptive. She orgasmed quickly, suddenly, before she’d steeled herself for it. A second orgasm closely followed the first. The ring throbbed like a beating heart, and her hips felt heavy and tight. She looked down at herself and saw the ring as much a part of her body as Søren’s cock inside her. The piercing was an act of sadism, of course, putting a needle and a ring through her clitoral hood, but the ring itself was a symbol—not merely of his sadism and ownership of her body, but of her trust in him, her devotion. A wedding band could be yanked off the finger and tossed across the room. There would be no removing this ring in a moment of passion. It was there to stay like an arrow through a heart.

An arrow or a needle.

Or a knife.

“Eleanor?”

Nora slammed the black lacquer box shut and turned around. Søren stood in the doorway of his dungeon looking at her with a question in his eyes.

“Sorry,” she said. “Lost in thought.”

Søren stepped into his dungeon and locked the door behind him. He walked to her and looked down at the box in her hand.

“Good memories in this box,” he said, carefully opening the lid.

“A few,” she admitted. “One or two.”

Søren took a sterilized needle out of its plastic, shut the box and set it aside.

“Or three.” He took her much smaller hand in his large hand and pricked the tip of her index finger with the needle. He did it calmly, deliberately, but she saw his pupils dilate wildly as the needle tip sunk into her flesh. When he pulled it out, a drop of bright red blood pooled on her skin.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Does this mean I’ll fall into a hundred-year sleep?”

“I don’t see any spinning wheels anywhere, Sleeping Beauty.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the blood off her finger. He bent his head to kiss her lips and she pulled away.

“That’s not what I came here for,” she said. “And don’t flirt. I’m still furious at you for almost choking Kingsley to death.”

Søren sighed. “You call it choking. He’d call it foreplay. Kingsley and I aren’t your concern.”

“If you do it again, I’m calling the police. You can sit in an interrogation room and explain to the cops why you assaulted your brother-in-law. Maybe if you’re lucky, this time I’ll come to you and offer to get you out of trouble in exchange for your eternal obedience to me.”

“The police know Kingsley. I wouldn’t get arrested for assaulting him. I’d likely get a medal.”

“I’m serious. Don’t take out your anger at me on him.”

“Did you come here simply to scold me for hurting Kingsley? If so, I am duly contrite,” he said without a trace of contrition. “Now, if you’re not here for me, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave. I’m meeting Simone in twenty minutes.”

“I know. She told me. That’s why I’m here. I needed to tell someone,” she said, and pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. It was an email she’d printed out earlier today. Søren took it from her, unfolded it and read the words on the page, first with mere interest and then with obvious joy.

“Eleanor, is that what I think it is?”

“I sold my book.”

16

Good News

“A PUBLISHER CALLED Libretto is buying it. Two-book deal. It’s for almost no money, and my agent warned me I wouldn’t see a penny of it for about three months, but they’re a solid company with a really good track record for launching authors.” The words came out fast as they’d been bottled up inside her for twenty-six whole hours. Ever since she’d gotten the phone call and the email with the details, she’d been fighting the need to scream from the rooftops.

Søren raised his hand and touched her smile. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Me, too. Although I’m terrified. They want another book from me in six months, and I don’t even have a laptop yet. I hope King hooks me up with a rich client soon. I need to get to work.”

“I have the utmost faith in you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I’ll ever break the habit of telling you everything.”

“I hope you never do. When you start keeping secrets from me, then I’ll know something’s very wrong.”

“I know you won’t tell on me. You’re good at keeping my secrets.”

“It’s what priests do. Should we celebrate?”

“How? You want to take me out to dinner?”

“I wish I could.”

She wished he could, too. And it grated. It grated right on her heart that he, an unmarried adult man, couldn’t take her, an unmarried adult woman, out to dinner without risking a scandal simply because of the collar he wore around his neck and the initials behind his name.

“We could celebrate in private,” he said. “Later tonight...if you wish.”

“If I wish? That’s different. You used to summon me, and I came crawling.”

“You never came while you were crawling. Shortly thereafter, however.”

“If Simone’s listening at the door then she really is going to be very jealous. She’s crazy about you.”

“Simone wouldn’t eavesdrop on us.”

“Fuck, I would.”

Søren smiled. A quick smile, there and gone again like the flash of headlights in a darkened room.

“I should go,” Nora said. She started for the door but Søren grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. “Søren, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t do this?” He wrapped one foot around her calf to lock her against him. He put his hand under her chin and held it in place while he kissed her. Against her will, she warmed to the kiss, to the touch of his hand on her face, his body so close to hers. Every morning she woke up with a ghost in her bed in the shape of his body. His scent was long gone from her sheets. She almost wished for winter so she could smell him without being near him. Being close to him hurt. Being away from him hurt. Søren had told her years ago that to love him was to hurt. She thought that night he referred only to his sadism. Now she knew better.

Reluctantly she pulled away from him again, putting two feet between them. Breathing room.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t tempted, Little One. I know you too well.”

“What I want to do and what I’m willing to do aren’t the same thing anymore. And I can read you, too, you know. And when I look in your eyes, I read warnings. If I go back to you, you will take everything from me that I’ve gained by leaving you.”

“We made a deal, remember? You gave me forever and I would give you everything. I fully intend to hold up my end of the deal, no matter what it costs me.”