“What do you think?” asks Leo, who gestures to what looks like an entrance to the subway just a few minutes’ walk from my apartment.

I frown a little, looking over my shoulder and then up at the nearby buildings before I embarrass myself by assuming he’s asking about the hole in the ground. There’s no other entrance though, nothing else he could mean but the staircase leading down from the city street.

“I think it looks a little scary,” I say.

“Good. Then you won’t complain if I want to hold you a little closer,” he says, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me into him.

My breath is nearly taken away by how well we fit together, like his body was built to shelter mine. My head tucks just perfectly under his arm where it rests against his chest, and his strong arm envelops my back and shoulder, pulling me in just enough to let me know he doesn’t plan to let go.

This isn’t so bad, I think. I’m starting to feel like I’m on a normal date as we take the first few steps down. I can imagine a nice dinner, pleasant conversation, and who knows, maybe he’ll even get a kiss or two at the end of the night, if he’s good. I start to wonder if maybe the whole BDSM thing is just like an itch he has to get out of his system every once in awhile--if maybe he’s just a normal guy nine days out of ten. The oddest part is I don’t know if I would actually want that from him--normal. It’s the strangest thought, but I don’t want Leo to turn out to just be like every other guy. Even if I end up deciding he’s not the guy for me, I want him to be what he seems. I want to know guys like him exist out there because it makes the world just that much more exciting.

I can only kid myself for so long though. There’s a single, powerful truth that has clung to me ever since the first time I saw Leo in the Beaumont. I feel a connection with him like I’ve never felt before. I’ve held myself back out of duty to my baby and from worry that he’ll end up taking my focus away from taking care of my mom, but I know if nothing so important stood between us, I would’ve already thrown my whole self into his hands. I would’ve closed my eyes and fallen backwards over a cliff because I’d know he would never let anything happen to me.

Leo is the guy for me. The only question left is whether I can bridge that last gap of trust that lets me know--not just think--that he’s right for the baby and my mom.

We turn the corner at the bottom of the dark stairway, and my idea that we might be going on a normal date goes up in flames. There’s a thick iron door with a narrow slit at eye-level in a narrow, brick tunnel covered in graffiti. Leo knocks hard and waits.

With a shriek of metal, the eye-slit slides away to reveal two wrinkled and penetrating blue eyes. The thrum of music and voices comes from that small space, so distant I could almost believe I’m imagining it. A split second later the slit closes again and I hear a heavy metal lock being operated on the other side. The door creaks open. Leo takes me by the hand and leads me in.

The full volume of the music hits us now, pounding through the air with a physical force that reverberates in my chest. The place is absolutely choked with people, but I’ve never been in a crowd that looks so clearly wealthy in my life, not even at the party a few nights ago. The men all wear tailored suits and clothes that seem to fit them perfectly with expensive watches and shoes in abundance. Leo was right about my dress, too. If anything, the material being only slightly see-through makes me look conservative. One woman is wearing a dress that looks like chainmail but with nothing beneath, so her naked form is clearly visible as she moves through the club, each step making her whole dress shift and twist like an optical illusion until she appears completely naked.

My eyebrows rise when I see she’s wearing a collar and being led around by a man with thick, dark eyebrows. They don’t seem to be heading anywhere in particular, but both parties are enjoying the show in different ways. The man seems to be reveling in the looks of admiration his woman is garnering, and the woman seems to be focused entirely on the man holding the leash, watching his face in an almost unreadable mask, save for the way her eyes wander his body hungrily.

A slave and a Master, maybe. I don’t know enough about this lifestyle to say for sure, but I know Leo wanted me to wear his collar, and I can only assume he would display me like this. The thought makes my stomach flood with warmth and sends chills down my arms. Putting on a collar like that would be the ultimate submission. What I let him do to me in the darkness of that room at the party was one thing, but it was always just between Leo and I. Moving through a crowded place like this while so clearly on display and so clearly claimed would be… It would be like the final test of my trust. I’m not sure I can say why, but I feel like the moment I know I want to wear his collar will also be the moment I know I can let him into my life completely, to let him take that last step inside. Maybe Leo understood that too, and it’s why he wanted me to take the collar so badly.

This must be one of the three big BDSM clubs Leo was talking about. I start to notice the decor, from raunchy paintings depicting men and women doing things I never even imagined to red candles burning all along the walls and old-fashioned chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The furniture is all dark, expensive looking leather and the walls are paneled in deep colored wood. It’s a beautifully strange place full of corridors and rooms, like the lobby of a hotel, almost, except this would be the most crowded hotel lobby I’ve ever seen.

A woman taller than many of the men in the crowd catches my eye as she moves through the throngs, creating an effortless wake of parted bodies in front of her. She wears a severe black dress that is comparatively modest, aside from the plunging neckline. She looks to be in her late forties and has an extremely straight line of bangs an inch above her eyebrows, while the rest of her dark hair falls just above her shoulders. She has a look on her face of permanent disapproval with a hint of mockery, and when she turns her eyes to Leo, I’m surprised how she’s able to hold his gaze unflinchingly.

“Mr. Carlyle. It has been quite some time. Welcome.” She turns her eyes on me, making me feel small and childish under her gaze. “And you are?”

“This is Lysa,” says Leo, who shifts slightly, easing me just a fraction behind his shoulder.

A hot rush of excitement courses through me. I still feel pretty sure I’m absolutely insane for coming to a place like this with Leo, but whether it makes sense or not, my body reacts to him like he’s a drug. The way he possessively steps in to speak for me and even physically shield me from this woman when he sensed I was uncomfortable is… sweet.

He’s not sweet in the normal sense of the word, though. He reminds me of a dessert I had once at a festival--some kind of cupcake with a sweet frosting, but the cake itself was infused with jalapeno juices. It didn’t sound appetizing, but my friends convinced me to try it, and just when the sweetness was about to overpower my palate, the spicy flavor cut straight through it like a razor’s edge, striking a wonderful balance that left me feeling satisfied and excited.

In the same way, Leo has shown a side of himself that’s sweet and caring. He bought me the clothes to come here, he called in to have prescriptions sent to my mom’s room, and he didn’t want those men in the elevator of the hotel laughing at me. But his sweetness comes with a heavy undercurrent of danger, of possessiveness and dominance. Maybe that should make me want to get away as fast as I can, and maybe at some point in my life it might have. But now?

I don’t know if it’s the music thumping through my body in waves, the sensual atmosphere, or just having a man as big and strong as Leo holding me, but I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to step through this new door he’s opening up, and I want to become the woman he seems to think I am, I want to embrace it.

The woman smirks slightly when she sees how Leo moves between she and I.

“Well, dear, my name is Madame Garson. You should count yourself fortunate to have the attentions of a man like Leo. I’m sure there have been hundreds of women who would’ve done anything for the chance.” She gives Leo a look I don’t quite like, as if she’s saying she’s one of those women, but he doesn’t pay it any attention.

“Who was she?” I ask him quietly once she’s walked away.

He looks slightly uncomfortable for a moment, but recovers quickly. “Don’t worry yourself with all that yet, pet. There will be plenty of time to learn.”

I gasp out loud when I catch a glimpse of bare flesh and writhing bodies in a long, tall-ceilinged hallway.

He follows my gaze to the hallway near the back of the room. It’s lined with panes of glass that reach from the floor to the ceiling, each lit in sensual colors from red to purple and blue.

“See for yourself, come.”

The way his voice snaps out the word ‘come’ makes me feel almost physically tugged to follow him. God. Leo’s voice alone carries so much command, I can’t help wondering what I wouldn’t do if he asked. Instead of that thought bringing unpleasant images up, I have to force myself to think of something else because images of Leo straddling me shirtless while he commands me to do his dirty bidding are filling my head, that, and the blind memories of what it felt like to be tied helplessly to the St. Andrews Cross while he took me at the party.

We reach the hallway, which is set up like some kind of zoo, but instead of animals, each glass cage holds men and women engaged in various BDSM acts. There is a sizable crowd of people in the large hallway lounging on couches, kissing, touching, or just watching with hungry eyes.

I’ve always been the type to avert my eyes if a couple is even kissing in public, but this takes it to an entirely different level. I’m not sure how exactly, but the atmosphere seems to invite it, almost like there’s so much sexual energy in the air that it’s hard not to feel like I left most of my reservations at the door. I even get a rush when I think about how hot it would be if Leo decided to start feeling me up in front of all these people, or maybe kissing my neck or my earlobe.

I bite my lip and shake my head. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I really don’t. The sad thing is that I can’t find any good reasons to miss the old me right now. The old--reserved, stick-up-her-butt, always overthinking every decision--girl I used to be seems like a bad memory when I’m with him. It’s almost as if this new, more adventurous side of myself was the real me all along, only bottled up under the weight of too much responsibility.

My breath catches when I look inside the first window. Leo’s hand is on my back as we approach. He watches me instead of what’s behind the glass, clearly more interested in my reaction than what’s going on.

A woman is on some kind of chair that looks a little like a massage chair, but this chair is designed to support someone who is kneeling. Soft pads sit under her legs, letting her kneel in total comfort--except she looks anything but comfortable. A ball gag is stuffed in her mouth and tears trickle from the corners of her eyes as a man in a leather mask and pants with no shirt paces around her bare body, running his fingers along a riding crop. He says something in a low growl to her, then slaps her across her already-red ass with the crop.

She jumps forward, eyes squeezing shut tighter.

“Leo,” I gasp. “She’s in pain.”

“Yes,” he says. “But look more closely. Look beyond the tears and what you think you see.”

His words confuse me at first, but when I look closer, I see the lips of her pussy are swollen and actually dripping with her excitement. I take in a surprised breath, pressing my hand to my chest, where I can feel my heart pounding rapidly. I’ve seen other women naked before, but never like this, never in such a sensual setting. It feels dirty, like I should look away and leave them to their private moment, but everything about this environment challenges me to question what I thought I knew about sex.

She wants to be watched. If she didn’t, why would she be doing this in front of a glass window? She wants him to hit her with that riding crop. The thought makes chills run across my skin. “I don’t understand. Why does she want it to hurt like that? I can understand a little sting, but that looks like it could bruise, even.”

“I’d be happy to give you a demonstration, if you like.”

I laugh a little too loud, then trail off as a coughing attack takes me.

Leo looks a little concerned, but appears more amused by how awkward I’m being right now.

“That looks a little intense for me,” I say once I’ve calmed down--on the outside at least. My panties are already soaked through with the thought of Leo putting me in a situation like that again, except this time without the reservation. I’m already starting to see how much he held back on me at the party. As much as it terrifies me thinking of being so exposed, vulnerable, and used… it excites me just as much. I spend so much time thinking about doing everything I can for my mom. I try to be a good girl so I don’t disappoint my mom before she passes. I sacrifice my personal life to take care of her. I’m happy to do all of it, and it makes me feel like the world’s worst daughter to admit it, even in my mind, but it takes a toll. I feel like an empty shell of a person sometimes, someone just going through the motions and not really living.

Except when I was at the party with Leo the other night. Except now. Whenever he’s with me, it all changes.

Being here. Being with Leo. Being in this place? It’s waking me up. It’s making things inside my body come alive I had forgotten were there. And some things I wasn’t even aware of.

The man inside the room reaches for his belt. A dirty part of me wants to see him hit her with it but instead, he yanks his pants down. The way the woman is positioned means the man’s back is mostly to us, but it’s clear what’s happening when he rams his hips into her and starts pounding himself into her with groans of pleasure. The woman’s mouth opens in a silent exclamation of ecstacy just as Leo gently guides me toward the next window.

He’s watching me very carefully now, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was getting off on my reactions. Even if I wanted to control my face right now, I know I couldn’t. This is all too much, too strange and exciting.

The next window opens up to a room full of pulsating orange light. A beautiful woman with silver hair and a full body is suspended in the air by an intricate web of ropes connecting to her wrists, ankles, waist, and back. Smoke or fog--I can’t tell which--billows from vents in the floor, catching the light until the entire scene looks eerie and almost surreal. She’s facing the ceiling while two sculpted, shirtless men slowly drip hot wax on her body. She shivers slightly with each drop of wax that patters to her bare skin. A distant part of me is jealous to think that Leo is looking at this naked woman too, but then I shift my attention back to him and see he’s only watching me. I gasp in surprise when our eyes meet because it feels like a hint of the fire he feels inside passes over to me in that instant, like I can actually feel how hungry he is for me.

When I look back to the demonstration, one of the men is inserting the end of the candle that’s not lit inside the woman’s pussy, which is making her squirm and gasp with pleasure. The other man is still dripping wax, but he’s kissing her now too, stifling her moans with his own mouth while he lets wax dribble across her erect nipples.

Leo leads me away again, this time to a blue room where a huge block of ice sits in the corner. Small containers also line the walls, which the three men are gathering ice from and using it to drip and run across a naked woman’s body. This woman is blindfolded and slender, but she’s making no mystery of her enjoyment as she moans and swears out loud, pushing her hips up into the air as much as she can while tied down to a table by her ankles and wrists.

“As you can see,” Leo says casually. “These are the public rooms, which is why they call this particular club ‘The Zoo’. The private rooms are this way,” he says, leading me farther down the hallway, but too quickly to make out what’s going on in the other public rooms enough to know that I should be blushing.

“Private rooms?” I ask. Now I am blushing.

He turns, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Yes. You didn’t think I was going to fuck you in front of an audience, did you?”

“Wait a second,” I say. My body may be practically throbbing to be touched and taken by him, but my brain is still working--at least a little bit. “This was supposed to be a date. You brought me to this place and expected to… what? Take me to some dark room and tie me up while you spank me again? Is that all it’s ever going to be between us?”

He steps into me, forcing me back against the wall so his face is only inches from mine. “I need you, Lysa.”

I wait for him to say more, to explain, but he doesn’t. He only looks down at me, those green eyes boring into me, searching my body. His chest rises and falls quickly, arms flexed as he holds the wall on either side of me like he’s trying to keep it from falling down.

“I’m scared,” I say. It’s not exactly the right way to express what I’m feeling, but it’s the best I can manage right now. “This is all happening so fast. Too fast. I’ve got my mom to think about. Responsibilities.”

“What is your body telling you?” he asks.

I purse my lips in annoyance. “It doesn’t matter what my body says. I have a brain for a reason.”

I nearly jump with surprise when he slides his hand up my thigh, pressing his fingers to my soaked panties. “You have that beautiful pussy for a reason, too. So I can claim it. Every inch of it. So I can fill you until you think you’ll burst. I need you,” he says again in a voice so low it’s practically a growl. “We can worry about the rest after tonight. I promise. Just let us have tonight.”

The intensity of it all makes me feel like I can’t breathe, like my body is taking control and pushing my brain back into the darkness until it’s just background noise. All my doubts, my fears, my worry… It fades away as the deafening roar of want and lust rushes up to drown it out.

I don’t think. I don’t wait. I grip the back of his neck and tilt my mouth up to meet his.

I realize he was just waiting for some sign of permission, and now that I’ve given it to him, I’m not in the driver’s seat--not in the slightest. His hard body presses into mine as we kiss. I thread my fingers through his hair, gripping a handful for something to hold on to, something to anchor myself in this moment so I’m not blasted away by his heat and hunger.

Giving into his demand is like letting the current of a raging river take me after I’ve struggled so hard I can barely stand it anymore. The power of his will grips me and drags me along effortlessly, and the feeling is like flying, like my body is weightless and drifting along a perfect expanse of water in a world where I have no worries or fears, where the only thing that matters anymore is holding onto him and enjoying the ride.

Without taking his mouth from mine or his hands from my body, he somehow manages to guide me blindly into a room before slamming the door behind us. I don’t know if I could open my eyes right now, even if I wanted to, so I might as well be blindfolded as he kisses me and pulls me deeper into the room until I bump into something that feels like leather.

He turns me so my back is to him and gently presses me down. I open my eyes now, catching just a glimpse of the room full of strange devices and toys before I’m face-down on a padded chair. I’m still fully clothed, or as close to fully clothed as this outfit can pass for, but the way I’m bent over the chair makes my dress ride up so I’m sure he has a full shot of my panties. Instead of making me self-conscious though, the thought makes me feel hot. Sexy, even.

“We’re going to play a game,” he says. He runs his hand down from my shoulder blades to my ass, where he helps himself to a healthy handful and then gives me a light slap that makes me jump. “A game of trust.”

It’s all I can do to keep breathing, so I say nothing. I only lay there on the table knowing how exposed I am with my ass in the air like this and the short dress I wear. From where he’s standing, I’m almost positive he can see exactly how soaked my panties are, too. The thought makes me press my thighs together, but he forces them open again with firm hands.

I can feel it more clearly now than before, how much I’m in his control when he turns me on. If I can keep my lust at bay, I feel at least a little in control around him, but as soon as his hands touch my skin and his words turn dirty, it seems like I might as well be his puppet. I’d like to think I’m a strong enough and intelligent enough woman that I wouldn’t let a man turn me into his plaything like this, but I don’t know anymore. There’s a freedom in the submission to him, a loss of control that means everything is in his hands--for better or worse. I can sit back and enjoy the ride, but the question is whether I can trust him to drive.

Maybe that’s why he wants to play a game of trust, he’s trying to teach me to trust him.

“We’ll call it truth or spank. I hope I don’t need to explain it much beyond that?”

I shake my head. “But how will you know if I’m lying?” I ask.

“I’ll know,” he says.

Somehow, I believe him.

“First question: do you want to be here right now?”

I consider lying, or at least muddling the truth with a “no” or an “I’m not sure,” but a moment’s thought reminds me he’s staring at my soaked panties. He probably can still vividly remember how hard I came that night at the party, too, so it’s not like I can exactly pretend this isn’t my thing. With a sigh, I mutter, “Yes.”

There’s a pause. One second. Two. Three. “Good,” he says finally.

I exhale, relaxing just slightly.

“How many men have you been with? Before me.”

“I--I don’t know,” I stammer.

The sound of his hand on my ass echoes out with a sharp crack. I’m jolted forward with the force of it, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being disciplined like a child, yet at the same time, there’s a dark thrill coursing through my body. Right now, he might as well own me, like I’m some prize he has claimed and now plans to use for his enjoyment. That should offend me, maybe even piss me off, but it only turns me on. It makes my pussy ache to be filled and my body tremble with the need to feel his powerful hands claiming every inch of me.

“Naughty pet,” he says. “How many.” His voice is more forceful this time. The sound alone makes goosebumps rise across my neck and legs.

“Three. I think. No, it’s three,” I say more forcefully. “Before you.”

There’s a long enough pause that I almost expect him to hit me again. Instead I hear the sound of a bottle being opened. He rubs his hands together briefly before applying something to the place he slapped me that feels cool to the touch. In an instant, the tingling, hot memory of pain fades to little more than a slight tightness on the surface of my skin.

“Last question,” he says. “For now. What’s your favorite color?”

I turn to look at him with surprise. I’m even more shocked when I see he’s smiling--almost shyly.

He meets my look with a shrug. “I was curious.”

I laugh, biting my lip and looking at him for what feels like the first time. “It’s green,” I say. “Like your eyes,” I add, almost as if it’s an afterthought.

A moment passes that seems to distill just a hint of the tension in the moment, and I take the opportunity to ask him a question “Why do you do this?” I ask, flipping myself over and sitting on the edge of the bench. “I mean, how do you even know you want to try something like this, let alone become a Master.”

At first, the look on Leo’s face is full of displeasure--probably because I got up without his permission, but it softens as he considers my question. “I’ve always known,” he says. “At times it feels like a darkness that resides in me, like a black ball of sin in my chest that I have to feed to keep at bay. But I’ve come to learn it’s not that. There’s nothing evil or dark about what I do, what we’ve done,” he adds with a raised eyebrow. “Do you feel guilt for enjoying this?”

“Yes,” I say. My body still throbs with need, but even talking about this with him feels like a kind of sexual intimacy that doesn’t dull the radiating heat between my legs in the slightest.

I suck in a breath when he stips his jacket and starts undoing his buttons one by one, revealing inch after inch of muscular flesh.

“Guilt is a construct, Lysa,” he says, fingers still moving down from button to button. “It’s nothing more than jealousy projected onto you by others. If they knew the way I felt about you, the way I can make you feel, they would be jealous. They should be.” He drops his shirt to the floor, eyes never leaving me. “Because no woman on this Earth will ever be wanted as much as I want you. No woman will ever be coveted like I covet you. No child will be more loved than our child will be,” he says, pressing a soft hand to my belly while looking into my eyes.

He half-smiles. “I can promise you anything, pet, because there’s nothing I wouldn’t give for you--nothing I can’t give.” He brushes my cheek with such a delicate finger that I feel like I’m his. His woman. His pet. His slave. His anything. I don’t care what he wants to call it right now, I’m too drunk on how much he wants me and how good it feels to be desired and dragged away from the routine of my life. It feels so fucking good.

His hand wanders down from my cheek to my neck, where it falls further, leaving a trail of blazing heat in its wake. He cups my breast. My nipples harden immediately, pushing through the fabric of my bra and my dress. He rubs his thumb over the hardened point, drawing a small gasp from me.

He watches me. I can feel the weight of his expectation pressing in on me. The words he wants to hear are right on the tip of my tongue, so close to becoming fact that I can almost taste it. I want everything you’re offering. I want your collar. I want to be owned. I want you. And I do. But I can’t say that. I can’t open that door. Right now this has been an escape. He has given me more thrills in a few days than I’ve had in the past ten years combined, yet I can’t say the words. I can’t make this permanent. I can’t make it real.

If this was real it would terrify me. It would have me running as fast as I could with my hands pressed to my ears until all I could hear was the sound of my own blood rushing through my veins.

If this became real it would mean losing my mom in a way. I would need to give so much of myself to Leo to satisfy him, I know that as sure as I’ve known anything. He’s not just talking when he says he wants to own me. He wants every bit of me. He wants to consume me. There’s something so tempting in that offer--the idea of letting myself be swallowed up by Leo, of knowing he wants me so deeply and powerfully he’d never let me go or never let anything happen to me.

But wanting him would be selfish. It would be a betrayal to my mom, and I can’t do that.

“I can’t,” I say.

His face falls. It’s a subtle change, but it’s clear enough to make my heart ache.

He’s about to speak again when my phone vibrates from my purse. The sound cuts through the thick air, snapping me out of the moment like a cold bath. I instinctively reach for my purse. Leo moves to stop me, but I’ve already pulled the phone free and seen who’s calling before he reaches me. It’s my mom.

“Mom?” I ask through the receiver. “Is everything okay?”

Leo watches me with a note of alarm, but doesn’t move.

“I need you to tell these fuckers to get their hands off me and get out of my room,” snaps my mom through the phone.

I raise my eyebrows. She sounds pissed, even by her usual standards. “What’s going on?”

“These meathead pricks,” she says in a low growl. “They come into my room and start telling me how I need to come with the immediately. Some asshole decided he was going to send me to a specialist whether I liked it or not. Now they--Hey! Hands off, pencil dick. If I wanted to be groped I’d go to the airport--pardon me, now they are trying to take me out of my room, and they don’t realize I’m packing heat and not afraid to murder some muscle-bound dimwits who don’t know how to buy a shirt that fits.”

“Mom. You have not murdered anybody and you’re not about to start.”

Leo’s eyes widen a little and his mouth twitches with amusement.

“Just tell them to leave. We already paid for the room through the end of the month.”

I hear my mom screaming at the men in the background and then a scuffling sound comes through the phone.

“Hello?” asks a man with a deep voice through the phone.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask.

“Mr. Carlyle insisted we get Mrs. Ross to Dr. Fairchild as quickly as possible. He said not to take no for an answer.”

My blood runs cold. It’s too much. He thinks he can start shipping my mom around like some sick cow against her wishes? He didn't even bother to ask me why my mom wasn’t being treated right now. If he wants to try to be my master and dominate me that’s one thing, but my mom? “Oh he did?” I ask. “Maybe if Mr. Carlyle tells you to fuck off right now, you will.”

I hand the phone to Leo, who is watching me very carefully. He slowly brings the phone up. “Leave her alone,” he says quietly.

He hands me the phone back. “Mom?” I ask.

“Who the hell else would it be?” she snaps.

“I don’t know, the guy I was just talking to, maybe?”

“You mean pencil-dick?”

“Mom,” I say. “Are they gone?”

“They’re gone.”

I hang up the phone and turn my focus on Leo. She’ll need calming down later, but right now I need to deal with this gorgeous jerk who thinks he can do whatever he wants. “You did this?” I ask

“Tried to help your mom? Yeah, I did.”

“What gives you the right?” I ask. I surprise myself by lunging forward and shoving his chest. He doesn’t budge, but I feel a swirling sense of chaos in my gut that I can’t pin down, and striking out at him seems to calm it, though not by much.

“To help her?” He asks.

“She already tried everything,” I snap. “She did the treatments, lost her hair, lost her will to--” My voice breaks and I sit down, body trembling. “She lost her will to live,” I say more quietly. “She was only fighting anymore because of me. If it was up to her, she would’ve just given up. She was going through all that torture because she thought I couldn’t handle losing her. And I couldn’t.”

He reaches to put his hand on my shoulder but I slap it away.

“Don’t,” I say warningly. “Don’t touch me. Not right now.”

I almost expect him to yell at me now, to push me down and turn all this frustration into something sexual. No, that’s exactly what I expect. Everything I’ve seen so far from Leo tells me he’s a man of primal urges and desires. Maybe there’s some kindness beneath it all, but in the end he’s just after me for the sex. He wants to take me like some prize so he can own me all by himself. So why would he care how upset I am right now? Why would it mean anything to him except another kinky fucking way to get me on my back and spread my legs?

But he doesn’t yell. He just steps closer again, wrapping me in his arms. I try to push him back again but he’s too strong, and before I can do anything about it, he’s hugging me. He’s hugging me tightly to his powerful body, not saying anything, not making a sound. His broad hands press me into him. I can hear the pace of his heart through his chest as it pumps steadily and powerfully. I feel the slow rise and fall of his breaths, deep and calm. I close my eyes, holding onto him even as I want to push him away, like a rock in a storm I’ve washed up into--It may be hard and jagged. Holding on will almost certainly make my fingers feel so raw I’ll need to let go, but it’s the only thing protecting me from the fury of the storm, so I hold tighter.

My stiff body relaxes piece by piece, until I’ve melted into him, until it suddenly doesn’t feel so hard to hold on but it instead feels like he’s the one holding me up and keeping me safe.

“I don’t want her to think she needs to suffer for me again,” I say “I can’t. But what kind of daughter would I be if I told her not to try?”

“I should’ve asked you,” he says simply. “But we can’t let her die without trying, not until she has tried every last option. Dr. Fairchild is the best in the industry. He can find a way to help her, and he might be able to do it without chemo. We won’t know until we try.”

Tears slide down my nose and patter against his chest. He said “we” can’t let her die without trying. Ever since mom and I lost dad, it has always felt like I was alone in taking care of her. It has been so lonely. So fucking lonely. You don’t win medals for taking care of your family. No one pats you on the back. It’s just what you’re supposed to do, no matter how hard it is. If I wasn’t doing it alone all this time, maybe it wouldn’t have been so hard. But Leo wants to help me shoulder that weight, doesn’t he?

I don’t think he had a right to try to have my mom treated without asking me, but as my initial anger is fading, I can see how sweet it was of him to try.

“You have a sweet side, don’t you?” I ask into his chest.

He laughs like a low rumble of rocks moving against one another. “No. Never.”

I grin. “My sweet stranger,” I say, looking up into his eyes.

“I don’t want you to think of me as a stranger,” he says. The way he threads his hands behind my neck and locks his gaze on mine gives me chills. “I want to be your dom. Your master. But first, before all that I want to just be your Leo. And I can’t do any of that if you think I’m a stranger.”

“Can you blame me, considering we’ve spent, I don’t know, like ten hours together?”

He gives a grudging nod. “Ten hours, ten days, ten years. What difference does it really make if you feel it’s right in here?” He touches a hand to my chest, where I can feel my heart pounding against his palm. “You feel it. I know you do.”

“I don’t know what I feel. It’s not supposed to work like this, though,” I say with a small laugh. “You’re supposed to take me on dates and I’m supposed to have time to talk about every little detail with my girlfriends. Normal dates,” I add, “You know, where we talk over dinner and take turns embarrassing ourselves with awkward small-talk. There are supposed to be ups and downs and all the little moments that come in between. We’re supposed to have fights and inside jokes and all these memories. People don’t just snap together like two magnets like you’re saying.”

“No?” he asks with a grin. “Then why are you having to try so hard to convince yourself you don’t want this?”

I open my mouth to tell him he’s wrong, but the words stop in my throat. He’s right. I hate that he’s right, but he is. “Shut up,” I say with a half-grin.

He pushes me down so that I hit the bench with a soft thud. Leo climbs over me slowly until he’s on top of me on the bench, arms on either side of my head. “You have no idea how much I want to do to you right now, pet. But there’s something more important than what I want to do to you.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“What you need. Right now, you don’t need a paddle to the ass or a collar. You don’t even need fucking ropes around your wrists. You need trust. So we’re going to play another game.”

My breath catches when I see him pull a blindfold from beneath the bench. He carefully fastens it around my eyes, and the way he tucks a stray hair behind my ear to keep it from tickling my face might just be the smallest, but most heart meltingly sweet gesture I’ve ever experienced.

“Here’s how this works,” he says once I’m in total darkness, lying on my back and still fully clothed. “You tell me what you want me to do to you, and I’ll do it. No questions asked. No judgment. You need to learn that you can trust me completely.”

It’s a long time before I speak, and I’m surprised by how patient he is, but my mind is practically racing with doubts and fear. I’m still grappling with the fact that I’m here doing something so dirty and so completely for my own pleasure, something so reckless.

“Take off your pants,” I say. Just uttering the words sets my pulse racing again. And when I hear the jingle of his belt and the rustle of fabric as his pants slip from his legs and fall to the ground, it feels like my heart might burst out of my chest. I reach out toward the source of the sounds and my fingertips meet hard, warm skin. I swallow hard and run my fingers down and over a round muscle with sharp edges until I find an elastic waistband.

“Hey,” I say. “You’re still wearing your boxers.”

He says nothing, and I realize with an annoyed, but amused grin, that he’s probably not going to talk unless I specifically tell him to, either. Fine. If he wants to play stubborn, so can I. I’m not going to let him talk as long as I have the control, and we’ll see how he likes that.

“Boxers, off,” I say.

There’s another rustle of clothes hitting the floor. I know he’s naked now. Completely naked and just inches away where I could touch him if I reached out. I wonder if he’s hard, too.

A deliciously dirty thought comes to my mind and I can’t help grinning as I think of it. “I want you to jack off while you look at me. Oh, and no touching me,” I add. I’m having too much fun with this, but I can’t help it.

He says nothing, but the few seconds of delay before I hear the sound of his palm against his cock tells me I’ve surprised him. A lot.

I bite my lip to think a man like Leo is standing over me right now while he pleasures himself to the sight of me. My hand slides down my side and to my thigh without me realizing. I’ve started to let my hand creep up my own leg, taking my dress with me before I remember he can see me, too. But the sound of his breathing got louder and faster when my hand was moving toward my pussy, and the idea of turning him on by touching myself has already nestled itself firmly in my mind.

I lick my lips as slowly as I move my fingers across my panties, which are already soaked. Even the slight touch of my fingers is like a shockwave. Being in this place with Leo, even with the distraction of what happened with my mom’s phone call, has my body on overdrive. Every nerve screams out for attention and friction, especially if that attention comes from Leo, but I’m enjoying teasing him too much right now to stop.

I start to rub myself in a circular motion, not waiting long before I plunge my fingers inside my panties. I can hear the pace of Leo’s hand on his cock getting faster and harder. I’m sure he’s hoping I won’t make him cum before he gets a chance to fuck me, but I absolutely love that he’s so turned on he can barely stop himself.