“It was a bad deal,” she said. “I made it when I was fifteen. And you haven’t given me everything.”

“I have given you my heart, my body and every secret about me you would ever want to know. I have put my priesthood on the line for you, my work, my reputation, my happiness and quite often my own sanity. What more do you want from me?”

“An apology, for starters.”

“For what? I’ll put it in writing.”

“I’m sure it will be quite well crafted, written with lovely penmanship and entirely insincere. For what? You order me to marry you, order me to never see Kingsley again, break my riding crop and you have to ask what for?”

“You knew what I was. You were warned. I warned you. Kingsley warned you. I will not apologize for who and what I am.”

“Then let’s make a new deal. I won’t ask you to change what you are, and you don’t ask me to change what I am.”

“What are you? Tell me. I’d love to know what you think you are.”

“Free.”

Søren smiled at her. “Is that so? Then why are you still wearing your collar?”

“I’m not.”

He paused long enough to make her nervous. Then he came to her, pressing her back against the wall with the weight of his body. She hated him for being so tall and strong. He could dominate her simply by standing in front of her. She closed her eyes as he slipped his hand down her side, down her thigh, up her thigh... Nora inhaled as he slid his hand into her panties and pressed his fingers against her clitoral ring. He grasped it and tugged lightly.

“I marked you with this, and you haven’t taken it out,” Søren said.

“I don’t want to take it out. It feels good when I’m fucking.”

“Is that the real reason?” Søren’s fingertip caressed her clitoris. It swelled under his touch.

“The only reason.”

“You can lie to me all you want,” Søren said. “We both know the truth.”

He pushed a finger inside her, and she spread her legs for him, too well trained to stop herself. She could safe out. But then he’d stop. Wait, wasn’t that the point? Nora had forgotten the point. How could she remember the point when he was massaging all those little places in her that made her so wet when he touched them?

“This is what you came here for, wasn’t it?” he asked.

“No, I came to ask you a favor.”

“I’d hardly call this a favor,” he said into her ear. “I’m more than happy to do it.”

She held on to his biceps to steady herself. She could feel the tension in his muscles. Knowing him, what he most wanted to do was push her down on his bed, stick her with needles again and fuck her blind. She wasn’t entirely opposed to this idea.

“I wanted to ask you...” she said between breaths, “please don’t come to the Midsummer party. It’ll be hard enough without you there, but if you’re there...”

“If I grant you this favor, what will you give me in return?”

“Me. Right now.”

Søren pulled his hand out of her panties, took her by the back of the hair and pushed her to the bed. He put her on her back near the footboard and knelt between her legs. He yanked her underwear off and tossed them aside. His black T-shirt came off next, but when she reached for the button on his pants, he grabbed her wrists and pushed them down into the bed, pinning her against the sheets. He did it quickly, with terrifying grace and strength.

“My dungeon,” he said. “My rules.”

Søren squeezed her wrists to the point of pain. With Kingsley she would have fought the pain and her urge to cry out. But not with Søren. He needed her pain and she gave it to him freely. His thumbs pushed into the tendon of her wrists and the pain was unbearable. She bore it anyway. The relief when he released her was almost as intense as the pain had been. He opened his pants and nudged her thighs wide-open with his knees. With a slow thrust he entered her. Once inside her, he gently wrapped his fingers around her throat. One hand on her throat...one hand over her mouth, muffling her moans. She could still safe out if she needed to by snapping her fingers in his ear. This wasn’t the first time he’d used his own hand to gag her while he fucked her.

Nora lifted her hips to take him deeper. Søren’s eyes were closed as he moved in her, the fingers on her neck pressing in with each thrust, relaxing with each retreat. Not once did he choke her, cut off her air supply or even push hard enough to scare her. His hand wasn’t there to hurt her or choke her. No...he’d made a collar of his own fingers.

He moved slowly, every movement deliberate.

“You miss this,” he said, punctuating his words with a hard sharp thrust.

She bit his hand, a signal she wanted to speak, and he uncovered her mouth.

“I can have sex whenever I want it with whoever I want.”

“It wasn’t sex I was talking about. You miss being dominated.”

“Not enough to come back to you.”

“But you will...eventually you will.”

She wanted to deny it and would have, but he put his hand over her mouth again to silence her. He fucked her harder now, faster, rougher. His thrusts were possessive. He had a point to make and he was going to make it no matter how much it hurt her. And it did hurt. Beautiful pain, intimate pain, extravagant pain. She panted behind his hand, moaned even as her hips rose to meet each of his thrusts. They moved in tandem, knowing each other’s bodies so well they could have danced this dance blindfolded and in the dark. No one made her feel quite like Søren did. No one filled her as he filled her. No one fucked her as he fucked her. No one loved her as he loved her. That’s what made leaving him so difficult and so necessary. She would never be herself if she went back to him. She would be his and she would like it. She’d love it even as she loved him. But who wanted to be the sort of person who loved being in prison?

The pressure in her body increased. She felt it from her lungs to her knees. She had to come. She was almost there. Søren moved his hand from her mouth and slipped it between her legs. She cried out as he caressed that sensitive spot where their bodies met and joined, the pad of his thumb toying with the ring. Nora’s body went still as her orgasm shot through her, setting her inner muscles to clenching, her vagina pulsing all around him. With the slightest intake of air, Søren came inside her, and she felt the warm fluid spilling into her and out onto his sheets.

Søren rested his body against hers as the last contractions came and faded. Nora laughed softly and Søren pulled up and looked down at her.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I would have let you fuck me even if you hadn’t agreed not to come to the Midsummer party.”

“I wasn’t planning to come to the party anyway.”

She wanted to slap him for that, for manipulating her into submitting to him. But she’d been manipulating him, as well.

“So I was right, I guess. You can’t be bought,” she said.

“When did I say I couldn’t be bought?” Søren asked as he buttoned his pants and ran a hand through his hair. Everything back to normal now. Or at least their version of normal.

“I said it. To Milady.”

“The dominatrix?”

“We had a little run-in the other night.”

“You’ve picked a formidable enemy in her. She’s fairly notorious for being exceptionally cruel. Masochists adore her.”

“And she’s actually more arrogant than you are. Hard to believe, right?”

“Unfathomable.”

“She threatened me with you. She threatened to expose you. Is it possible she knows your real name or where you work?”

“Possible, yes. I wouldn’t worry about me, however. If I have to speak to her, I will.”

“Watch out, she’ll try to bribe you into submitting to her. I told her you couldn’t be bought, that she’d be wasting her time. It probably turned her on.”

“I can be bought, but not with money.”

“Then what?”

“If it meant your happiness, Eleanor, if it meant bringing you home to me, I’d sell my own soul.”