“Wow,” I say.

Jayce pulls his car to a stop at the top of a relatively steep hill, where a sprawling mansion sits. The huge, circular driveway is choked with luxury cars and glamorous couples who look filthy rich even from a distance. Every woman glimmers with ridiculously huge diamond jewelry and designer dresses. The men are distinguished, young, rugged, handsome, and just about every combination of attractive I could imagine. It makes me realize just how unbelievably hot Jayce is though, because even these men can’t compete with him.

I wait in my seat as he walks around to the passenger side and gets the door for me. When he takes my hand and helps me out, I feel like a princess being escorted to a ball by a ruggedly handsome prince.

“Do you like it?” he asks. He tosses his keys to a valet who hops in and goes to move the car out of the main driveway.

“The party?” I ask.

“The house,” he says.

“Oh. Yes. It’s breathtaking.”

He nods. “It’s one of my favorite properties, though my little cabin in the woods still blows it out of the water.”

I can’t help bulging my eyes a little at him. “This is your house? I know your club is nice, but I didn’t think--”

He chuckles. “I’ve been fortunate. Some good investments, some wild risks… You’d be surprised how fast it can add up. You know the strange thing?” he asks. “You spend all this time thinking it’ll feel a certain way, like if you only had enough money, then you could really be happy. But all the money I made only made me feel lonelier.” He shakes his head, laughing a little at himself. “Pretty pathetic, I guess. I throw these crazy parties just so I don’t have to come home to a huge, empty reminder of how far I’ve come but how little it means.”

“I can’t imagine you being lonely,” I say carefully. “I mean, a guy like you doesn’t exactly fly under the radar, especially not to women. There’s probably not a woman in the entire city who wouldn’t kill to have a night with you.” I hate what I’m doing, but I can’t stop myself. Even though I believe what I’m saying, some insecure part of me is wanting him to tell me otherwise. I want to know he’s not a playboy who is fast and loose with relationships, that I’m not just the next target in a long line of conquests for him.

“Even if that were true,” he says as we walk together toward the main entrance. “If someone tried to give you ten thousand spoons and all you needed was a knife, you’d still have a problem.”

I stop dead in my tracks, looking at him in disbelief. “Did you just use a quote from an Alanis Morissette song un-ironically?”

“No,” he says, failing to hold back a smirk. “I think it was ironic.”

I clap a hand to my forehead, bursting with laughter. “Oh my God. Please tell me you didn’t just set me up for that on purpose.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he says.

I shake my head in disbelief. “Are you sure you don’t have kids from a previous relationship? Because that was dangerously close to a dad joke.”

He grins, but it’s half-hearted. “No. I’m not interested in having kids.”

“I see,” I say, clearing my throat. A thick silence hangs between us as we walk inside and are bombarded with loud music and the sight of hundreds of people dancing, laughing, talking, and drinking.

My stomach decides to send another nervous cramp my way right at that moment, as if to remind me that I could possibly be carrying his baby. I would’ve thought with everything he has said to me that the idea of a baby would actually excite him. A silly part of me was even starting to fantasize about what it would be like if I really was carrying his child. How it would force me to overcome my fear that I’m destined to pick the wrong guy, because a baby would take the choice out of my hands--like the cosmos putting a big neon arrow over his head for me. Now my fantasy seems more like a nightmare. At best he’d want nothing to do with it. At worst, there’s the possibility that he might try to talk me into an abortion, which I would never agree to.

Even if I’m not pregnant, that single statement feels like it cuts through me to my foundation: He doesn’t want kids. If I really decide he’s the right guy, it would mean I could never have the family I’ve always wanted.

I’m about to ask him more when a tall, strikingly handsome man and a beautiful woman approach us at the door. The man holds a glass of amber liquor casually as he approaches, and the woman at his side wears an eye-catching necklace with a loop, almost like a collar.

“Jayce!” says the man warmly. “Thank God you finally cut off that man-bun. I like this better,” he says, reaching for Jayce’s hair, but Jayce slaps his hand away with a grin.

“Miley,” says Jayce. “This is my brother, Leo, and hiswife, Lysa.”

“It’s nice to meet you I say,” reaching to shake their hands. Now that he says it, I can see the family resemblance in Leo. I can also picture this mountain of a man intimidating Jayce’s would-be bullies when they were younger.

“Be careful with this family,” says Lysa, who shakes my hand and flashes me an open, friendly smile. “They’ll suck you in and never let go.”

Leo pulls her closer, as if to confirm her statement. She grins up at him. The way she looks at him makes my heart melt. I’ve seen so many couples who act like strangers, enemies, or maybe the worst--like business partners. The way they look at each other erases any possibility of that. I feel a deep longing to have that kind of bond with someone, too.

I’m not kidding myself, though. Right now, I have a deep longing to have that kind of bond with a very particular someone--a someone who makes terrible dad jokes, has a soft side, and shows a command over my body like nothing I ever could’ve imagined. Someone who doesn’t want kids.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Jayce asks. His fingers splay across my back and he pulls me just a little closer.

“Maybe if it’s you doing the pulling,” Leo says with a grin.

Jayce tenses. “Don’t make me show off to my girlfriend by kicking your ass.”

“Like the last time you tried? I think I remember that ending with me holding you in a headlock.”

Jayce grins. “You were still trying to woo Lysa. I just didn’t want to embarrass you. I could’ve flipped you at least three times.”

“Oh?” Leo laughs, stripping off his jacket and tossingit on a nearby chair.

Jayce takes his own off and sets his jacket aside.

I frown in confusion as the two men squat into athletic poses, hands out wide like they are about to wrestle.

Lysa nods for me to come with her toward the bar. I follow her, glancing back over my shoulder as Jayce and Leo collide and start grunting, taking turns trying to flip each other to the ground while a handful of people gather to watch and cheer them on.

“It’s part of the package,” Lysa shrugs. “Unfortunately, if you want to land yourself a guy like one of the Carlyles, you have to deal with occasional bouts of over-the-top masculine displays.”

There’s a loud cheer as Jayce manages to pin Leo on his back and starts trying to get some kind of grip on Leo’s arm.

“You sure this is normal?” I ask, unable to stop watching the spectacle.

“These two wrestled like monkeys the first time Leo brought me to a party, too. I think it’s just how they bond. Maybe in their minds it’s like a macho handshake.”

Jayce pulls his arm back like he’s about to punch Leo while he sits on his stomach, but Leo twists at the last second, using his hips to throw Jayce to the ground and climb on top of him.

I flinch back. “Oh my God. They’re going to kill each other.”

“They’ll be fine. Look. I saw the way Jayce was watching you. He’s serious about you, you know. Guys can’t fake that look.”

“You were probably just imagining it,” I say. “We’ve only known each other a couple days.”

Lysa’s smile broadens. “You’d be surprised what kind of feelings can form in a couple days.”

“Was it like that with you and Leo?”

Lysa makes an amused face. “Something like that, yeah.”

The small crowd groans in disappointment, drawing my eyes back to the fight. Jayce and Leo are dusting each other off and laughing about something as they walk toward us.

“Who won?” Lysa asks.

Both men point to themselves at the same time, drawing a laugh from Lysa and I.

“Well, as good as it is to see you,” Jayce says to Leo, “I want to give Miley the grand tour of the upstairs.”

Leo and Lysa exchange a knowing look that makes me equal parts nervous and excited. I blush, waving goodbye to them sheepishly before Jayce drags me away.

“Do you seriously just brawl with him every time you guys run into each other?” I ask.

Jayce scoffs. “No. Maybe half of the time at most. We’re not barbarians,” he adds with no hint of self-awareness.

I smile to myself, clinging a little tighter to his arm. The side of Jayce I met that first night in the club was all sexuality. Every movement, action, and word seemed to resonate with my pulse, driving me closer and closer to some kind of uncontrollable frenzy. I had trouble picturing anything else from him. I couldn’t imagine what breakfast would’ve been like--I mean, was he going to just pounce across the table and screw me whenever the need rose up? Would we be able to talk about our day? Watch a show together in the evening?

I didn’t know, but I thought I did. Now I’ve seen there’s more to him. Yes, the sexual energy is never far below the surface, but ever since he told me about his childhood it feels like I have this kind of connection that goes deeper than the night we shared. He understands my past because he lived his own version of it.

Maybe I never realized how important that was because I was always dating the bully, not the bullied. Even though I doubt anyone would be dumb enough to try to bully Jayce now, he still remembers what it was like, and that makes him different.

He leads me through the busy room until we reach a staircase that winds up to an extremely high second story. The balcony overlooking the downstairs area is far less crowded, and by the time he takes me to a hallway near the back, we’re already alone except for the thump of music and fading sound of laughter.

Every step we take into the hallway makes the party grow quieter and quieter, until the near-silence is almost eerie.

“I thought you were going to give me a tour,” I say when we stop outside a large set of doors at the end of the hallway. “This looks like a bedroom.” Even though I might sound cross with him, the truth is my heart is pounding out of control. I’ve thought about that night he took me in the club so many times now, about how sweet it felt to surrender to him. Only now, I can’t help thinking back to what he said about not wanting kids.

If I knew I could never have kids, would I still be happy?

I don’t have time to think about it, because Jayce answers my question about the tour by inserting a key into one of the doors and then swinging it open. My eyebrows climb my forehead as I take in what looks like a private BDSM club in his house.

There’s a sleek, modern lounge area decorated in a way that feels warm and sensual--from the deep red fabrics to the polished wood of the full bar. The room is circular with doors in every direction.

“I thought some day I might desire a private place to enjoy my submissive, if I ever found her.”

I look at him from the corner of my eyes. “Have you?” I ask.

“I have,” he says. “But she’s taking her sweet time realizing it.”

I look down. “I feel something, Jayce. I really do. I just have so many doubts still. Like all this fear is clogging my head until I can’t think straight.”

“Then don’t think,” he says. “Come here. I want to show you a place where you can let your mind rest--well, sort of,” he adds with a mischievous grin that makes me nervous.

He takes me through the small lobby to the nearest door and pulls it open. My breath catches when we step into a completely different atmosphere. Soft silk cloth dangles from the ceiling, lit by warm yellow light. We pass through a short hallway as the silk brushes against our skin, trailing behind us. The hallway leads into a bedroom where a four-poster bed dominates the space. Lit candles sit on every surface, adding a warmth to the room and a comforting, pulsing glow of light.

“Wow,” I say. “So… you just always have candles burning in here, or were you planning this?” I ask.

I can’t tell if it’s the lighting, or if Jayce actually blushes at that, but once he closes the door and turns around, I can see the change has already started to come over him. The subtle sense of humor he has come to show me in our time outside the club has somehow left his features until all that’s left is the dom I met that first night in his club.

“You said I could choose our date tonight, princess,” he says, walking toward me with no particular rush, but the look in his eyes makes his intentions painfully clear.

Doubts bubble up in my mind. I want what he’s offering, but I want a family, too. And as much as I know it would just be one more night together, I’m still afraid everything so far has just been me falling into the same old traps I always do where are concerned.

Jayce doesn’t give me time to deliberate or think. He surprises me by actually shoving me backwards onto the bed, where it feels like I sink into a cloud. Once I’ve landed, he sets to stripping out of his jacket, tie, and shirt. I watch with fascination, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight of his buttons being undone and the way his tanned skin glows in the candlelight.

“You’ve been naughty, princess. I’ve been keeping track of every time you displeased me, and tonight, you pay the price.”

His words make me feel surprisingly ashamed. I’ve displeased him? Oddly enough, the fact that I’m about to be punished for displeasing him seems less upsetting to me than the possibility that I haven’t been making him happy.

“You feel guilty,” he observes, tilting my chin up and studying my face. “Don’t. You may think being my submissive is only about sex.” As if to contradict his own words, he reaches down--almost unthinkingly--and starts tenderly removing my clothes. “It’s not. The sex may be the best you’ve ever had, but it’s not the point.”

“What is?” I ask.

“Sir,” he growls, the sudden change in his face making me suck in surprised breath.

“Sir,” I add.

“The point,” he continues as if there had been no interruption. “Is that what we will create together goes beyond any traditional relationship can hope to. Together, we’ll explore the edge of our limits. We’ll push the boundaries until we’ve discovered exactly who we are and what it means for us to be together. There will be no secrets. No lies. When I’m your Dom and you’re my submissive, we will be more closely bound than you can imagine.”

My skin tingles, and it’s not just from the way his fingers brush against it as he pulls my panties down and unclasps my bra until I’m completely naked for him.

“No shame,” he says. “No doubts. No regrets. Just two bodies and two minds joining together in the most pure expression of love possible. Trust.”

I swallow hard. I’m distracted from the perfect future he promises by two glaring problems. I still don’t know if I’m pregnant, and even if I’m not, he won’t want to give me kids. Everything he says sounds amazing, yet I don’t know if it would be enough to give up my dream of a family.

Guilt swirls in my stomach as I nod anyway, too drunk on the moment to spoil everything right now. I convince myself I’ll find some way to come to terms with it when I’ve had time to think, that it’s just the effect he has on me making it so hard to puzzle out how this could work or lead to a happy future for me.

“Get on your knees for me, princess.”

His words bounce around in my head without meaning for a few seconds. I’m too distracted by my wandering thoughts and my fears to react.

“I won’t ask twice,” he says suddenly.

The sound of his voice snaps through the fog in my brain. My body moves to obey him now without question. I turn over, climbing to my hands and knees, presenting my ass to him like a prize waiting to be claimed.

A strange, creeping sense of calm comes over me. I can’t explain it, but when I’m surrendering to him, it feels like life loosens its grip on me so I can breathe again and my problems seem distant.

“Let go,” he says, running a finger down my spine as he stands beside me on the bed. “Your inhibitions are only getting in the way. Trust your submission to me again for tonight, princess. Be mine. My submissive, my property. Let me use you…”

I close my eyes. All I can manage is a soft sound between a moan and a quick breath, but it seems to be enough for him.

“But first, it’s time for your punishment.”

He reaches under the bed and comes up with a leather paddle. I can’t keep my eyes from it as he brings it up and gradually drags it down my back and ass before brushing the already wet lips of my pussy with its edge. I shiver. Goosebumps rise up across my body in the wake of its touch, and my ass is already tingling with the expectation of contact

“You’ve made me wait too long for this, princess…”

He brings the paddle down on my bare ass, making me lurch forward and gasp. It stings almost like a swarm of bees got me for a few moments, he doesn’t wait for the pain to fully subside before he brings it down again on the other side of my ass this time. “You knew I wouldn’t approve of your friend coming on our date, but you brought her anyway.”

I sink down to my forearms, eyes squeezed shut against the sting of the paddle.

“But,” he says, leaning closer to my ass until his breath brushes the tender skin where he paddled me. He plants a soothing kiss on the spot, melting the pain down until it blends together into something strange and wonderful. “I enjoyed the date very much. More than I thought I would.” He kisses the other side, until I’m left with only a swirling excitement that gathers between my legs, making my need for his even more intimate attention that much greater.

“You’ve also been very disrespectful,” he says, standing back up and moving to gather one of the candles by the bed. He brings it closer to me, holding it near his face so the flickering light casts his features in an orange glow. “And you must be punished until you learn to show me the proper respect. To address me as Sir. To heed my commands without question.”

“Turn over and lie on your back,” he says, setting the candle on the nightstand. I do as he says quickly, not wanting to disappoint him again.

He nods. It’s a small gesture, but when he makes the subtle shift from Jayce to my dom, I’m dragged into a world where the only thing that matters is pleasing him. The only pleasure or satisfaction comes from making my dom happy, in surrendering completely and trusting his guidance to be the truth. So even his slight nod is enough to send a surge of excitement and pleasure through me as I position myself on my back, lying flat while he takes his time appreciating the sight of my body.

“Gorgeous,” he says. He runs a finger down from my breast to my pussy, lifting his touch just before he reaches my clit in a way that can’t be accidental. I can sense that he wants to drag this out, and I can’t say I’m upset by the realization. “I couldn’t have made you any more perfect myself. Every line,” he says, palming my breast and squeezing firmly. “Every curve.” He grips the inside of my thigh, urging my legs open for him. “Even the way you smell,” he says, bending to kiss my mound as he breathes in deeply. “Sublime.”

I take in a shuddering breath, my back arching involuntarily as if my body is offering itself up to him.

“You were made for me, princess,” he says. He pulls a pair of handcuffs from under the bed and dangles them for me to see. “Cell by cell and inch by inch, you were built to be mine.” He pulls my arms over my head and clamps one cuff around my wrist, threads the other through the headboard, and then clamps my other wrist. Thankfully, the cuffs have a black fuzzy material around the metal, so even when he secures them tightly, they aren’t uncomfortable.

“Now that I’m sure you’re not going anywhere…” He picks up the candle again, lifting it above my stomach and lets a drop of wax fall just above my navel.

I flinch from the sudden heat, but much like drips of cold water, the intensity is momentary before it gives way to only the subtle reminder of heat. A tight circle forms as the wax cools and solidifies on my skin .

“And I was made to claim you,” he says, finishing his earlier thought and meeting my eyes with so much intensity I can’t seem to look away, even as I can sense the next drop of wax pooling at the end of the candle.

It patters down just below my breasts, shocking me again with a temporary burst of heat followed by a warm tightness. The next drop falls on my nipple, and the heat is so intense on the sensitive skin there that I gasp. It’s unpleasant for a second, maybe two, then an unfamiliar sensation spreads through me. Maybe this is what he was talking about--the intimacy of exploring the edge of my desires with him and trusting him to be my guide. It’s almost as if I’ve split away part of my mind in this moment. The part that normally steps in when things go outside my comfort zone and puts it to a stop. Right now I can almost feel Jayce’s presence within me, like he’s taking the control and the responsibility of that job from me.

Instead of the fear I would normally expect the realization to bring, it only makes my pussy throb with need and my chest fill with the most wonderful warmth. I’m his right now. Completely and totally his. I only have to please him.

I lose track of time as drop by drop of scorching wax covers my skin. I grow used to the sensation of heat and the gradual fade to warmth and the tight sensation of a growing coating of wax covers my body. When he starts to let drops of wax fall on my mound and my inner thighs, the heat feels so much more intense, but I don’t stop him. I let the heat come and I embrace the warmth. The last drop lands so dangerously close to my clit that I finally get ready to say something, maybe even one of the safe words. It’s as if he really does have some way of knowing my thoughts because sets the candle down on the bedside and looks back to my body, which is covered in drops of wax from my breasts to my pussy.

“Now the best part,” he says. “It’s time to clean you up.”

I bite my lip, watching as he slips out of his pants and briefs before climbing on top of me. I raise my eyebrows when he bends to use his mouth to gently work the wax away with his lips and tongue. “Is that safe to put in your mouth?” I ask.

He looks up at me with a sly expression before chewing and swallowing. “Safe and delicious. It’s edible, princess.”

“Oh.” I lean back, grinning in excited anticipation of the process ahead of him. Every drop of wax that dropped down on me is now a point of contact where his lips and tongue scour my body bit by bit. I feel him move off me to grab something else from under the bed. When I bend my neck to look up, I see him holding two jars. One is full of chocolate syrup and the other is full of whipped cream.

I laugh in surprise. “What else is under the bed?”

He smirks, dipping a spoon in the syrup and raising it so it drizzles back into the jar. “I made sure the room was equipped with everything I’d need before we arrived. And what can I say, I have a sweet tooth. What about you?” he asks, lifting the spoon again.

“Please, sir,” I say hungrily.

I expect him to bring the spoon to my mouth, but instead he straddles me so that his erect cock is only inches from my lips.

“I was thinking something sweeter, but I won’t complain,” I say.

He picks up the jar of syrup and drizzles it over the head of his cock until the excess drips down my chest, running in warm path between my breasts.

“I hope you came hungry tonight, princess.”