Weeks went by and they fell into their new routine. The room in the basement was never mentioned again. It was there in the back of Natalie’s mind and there in reality. Yet it was as if it weren’t.

When that night finally ended, Dexter cradled Natalie’s battered body in his arms and carried her up to their suite. She couldn’t have made the trip if she’d tried. He tenderly laid her in the large tub. His voice soothed as he soaked her in warm, sweet-smelling water and sponged her aching skin. Though she fought to stay conscious, her last memory was of the man she loved, the one who took care of her. The next morning when she awoke in their large soft bed, it was as if it never happened. The incident was never mentioned. Though it was as if it had been a nightmare, the bruises told her otherwise.

The ones on her arms and elsewhere had now faded. Nevertheless, for a while, only long sleeves and slacks or long dresses were acceptable to be worn around others. Dexter didn’t mind seeing his marks, but they weren’t to be shared with others. They were an outward sign of their bond. While he didn’t mention the basement—or the incident, he admired the way the markings looked as the colors changed.

The bruises on Nat’s soul were another story. Their color may have faded, but they remained as a reminder of the man omnipresent within the man she loved. She would do anything to avoid another trip to the cell in the depths of their home.

Natalie wasn’t sure if what she knew in her heart and mind about that night had actually been said aloud; however, at some point through the basement ordeal, Natalie understood what was happening. She couldn’t say if Dexter told her or if she sensed it. There were too many spots or voids in her memory of that night.

What occurred in the new basement room, in her rationalization, was the union Dexter had planned for Austria, before learning that Natalie was a virgin. It was the culmination of his planning—his reward. She belonged to him, all of her. But like everything else, he knew what was best. The timing was better this way. Had Dexter done to her on their first night in Austria what he’d done that night, they wouldn’t be here now. He would have broken her. By waiting and taking it slowly, she would survive.

Over the months, he’d prepared her to accept whatever he gave.

Now, she was his—whatever he needed.

Now, she’d learned her place.

Each day that bled into another week earned Natalie more freedoms. Without the basement as an option, their Dexter-time returned to something she not only anticipated but often enjoyed. He tested her limits, but always guaranteed her pleasure.

Though Natalie had yet to leave the property by herself, she did with Dexter. At every turn, she proved her ability to behave. The man beside her on those outings was suave and debonair. He opened doors and pulled out chairs. He complimented and praised her. He talked to her and asked her opinion.

He worshipped his queen.

Together they enjoyed cute little family restaurants and driving on winding roads through the mountains. Sometimes Jinx drove. Other times it was just the two of them.

On one warm spring day, they stopped at a spot in the foothills with an amazing view and picnicked. Dexter surprised her with a blanket, basket of food, and drinks. His smile lit her soul. With no one else around them for miles, the blanket wasn’t used only for eating.

It was difficult sometimes for Natalie to rationalize that the handsome man with light hair blowing in the breeze and shining ocean-hued eyes who made jokes and smiled lovingly at her was the same man who hurt her without remorse. However, he was. And with the exception of one night, she welcomed both of his needs into her life.

Their home was indeed marvelous. And while it was similar in luxury to the world where she was raised, this was different. She was now the queen. Dexter was her king. Her love. Her salvation. He was also her tormentor and devil. There was no one else she needed as he filled every role.

Besides their suite, Nat’s favorite place in her new home was the gardens. It had been the first freedom she requested, to go there and help tend the flowers, plants, and grasses. Even though Dexter explained that the gardeners took care of everything, she persisted.

Spending cool mornings pruning flowers had become one of her favorite times of day.

It didn’t take long before she gained the liberty of moving about the house and yards. The pool area was stunning with fountains and shaded tables and beds. Their home was older than the one where she was raised. Grand and stately.

Now that they were in the States their schedule also changed. When they’d been in Europe Dexter had the luxury of working in different time zones. The reality of living and working in the same time zone now caused them to delay Dexter-time until later. Natalie never realized how accustomed she’d become to their routine. Now, after a day of gardening, reading, and exercising, she’d bathe and prepare. The anticipation of him returning from his office off the estate was greater than it had been waiting for his return to her room.

It was as he’d open the door to their suite to find her standing as he’d instructed and his aqua-blue gaze twinkled that her insides clenched. While it was different to have him leave during the day and go to his office away from home, the separation gave him time to come up with new ideas and implements for their reunion. Natalie didn’t mind. Sometimes when she knew they weren’t leaving the estate, she’d even braid her own hair. It was her invitation to his more taxing desires. When she would, she could also depend upon some sort of punishment for doing what Dexter called topping from the bottom.

The thought made her smile. After all, it was what she was after in the first place.

Dexter Smithers was her everything. She was his. It was the way they both wanted it to be.

The queen who bowed only to her king.

Besides the experience of the one night, the most difficult part of coming back to the States was what Dexter had said they’d need to address—Natalie’s family.

The first encounter occurred before he showed her his gift in the basement. They’d only been in Vermont for two days when Dexter brought Natalie his laptop. She was in their suite reading when he placed it on the table beside her.

“It’s time, bug.”

She looked at the computer as if it were a snake, its tail rattling and its head raised ready to strike. He hadn’t told her she couldn’t use technology; however, it was never present. He had computers in his office, but other than his tablet, there wasn’t anything readily available. “Time for what?”

“We’ve been here for nearly forty-eight hours. I suspect your family knows that you’re back. You need to email them. Your mom or dad, it’s up to you.”

Nat’s head moved from side to side as her skin prickled. “No.” She wasn’t looking at Dexter, but at the venomous computer. She couldn’t imagine what she’d say to them.

“Excuse me?”

His stern tone pulled her attention up from the laptop and back to him. Without hesitation, she slid from the sofa to his feet. Sitting back on her bent toes, she lowered her head. “I’ll take your punishment. Just please, no email.”

Dexter reached for her shoulders and helped her stand. “I’m not going to punish you. However, this isn’t optional. You will sit here and write an email.”

“Then that’s punishment,” she said under her breath.

Dexter shook his head. “Is this how you were with them?”

Her green eyes sought his meaning.

“Oh, bug, don’t give me that innocent stare. You’re being a brat. Is this the spoiled princess I watched from afar?”

His words struck harder than his belt.

“I’m not...”

“Yes, you are. You’re flat-out refusing, topping from the bottom to avoid the email, and then talking back. That’s not the behavior of my queen. Is this the way the spoiled princess acted?”

Nat sighed. “I-I don’t know. I just don’t want to do it.”

“Did they allow you to get away with it?”

“Please, Dexter. I don’t want to write them.”

“Did they? That was a question.”

“I don’t know. I guess they did. I’m not ready.”

“You are. I want you to do it now.”

She turned toward the table. Staring at the laptop, she said, “I don’t know what to say.”

Dexter nudged her toward the sofa. “Come here.”

Slowly, she did. He turned on the screen. There, before her, was the string of emails she’d read back in Austria. On the top was a new one. It was from her mom and by its bold print was marked unread. Her eyes widened as she looked back to Dexter. “Have you read it?”

“It hasn’t been opened.” When she didn’t move, he clicked the trackpad. The email opened:

Nat,

I haven’t heard from you for a while. Your dad and I are concerned.

Natalie, we miss you. We love you. We are here for you.

Your brother will be home in a few weeks. He’ll only be here for a long weekend, but Nichol is coming, too. I wish with all my heart you were with us. Our family isn’t complete without you.

Please write or call.

Love,

Mom

Natalie read it again before turning to Dexter. “Please, I’ll write the email, but please don’t make me go. I can’t...not all of them.”

“I think she knows you’re back in the States.”

“How?”

“I would suppose it isn’t difficult to have a watch set for your name.”

“Then I should have used that other identification.”

“No,” Dexter said again. “What you should do—what you will do—is sit here until you’ve responded to your mother. You’re not moving. I’m not moving. We’ll sit here until tomorrow, but the longer this takes, the sorer your ass is going to be. I’m not a patient man.”

Natalie huffed as she turned back to the computer. He was right. He wasn’t patient.

“Bug?”

“Fine.”

“Bug?” His head was shaking at her tone.

“Yes, Dexter. I’ll reply.”

She sat, her fingers perched over the keyboard. Writing a simple email response shouldn’t be this difficult. When she was at Harvard, she’d write ten-page essays without blinking an eye. Expressing herself through words written on a page was never a problem.

Until now.

Dear Mom,

She backspaced and erased the comma.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Her hands dropped to her lap. “I know they’ve received the emails, but I didn’t write them. Will you..?” She looked up through her lashes. “...please, Dexter? You can write the words.” This used to work with others, with her dad or Phil; she would ask nicely and they’d acquiesce.

Dexter didn’t. Instead, he said, “Talk to me. What are you afraid of?”

She let out a breath. “Of seeing how much I hurt them. Of disappointing you. Of saying something I shouldn’t say.”

His expression softened. “They love you. I love you. You read the emails. You know what they’ve been told. They haven’t been told we’re engaged. Don’t you think your family would want to know that? Tell them you’re back in the States and that you’re getting adjusted to the time change and learning your way around a new town.

“That’s all true.”

She nodded. “Can I tell them where I am?”

He shrugged. “In general terms. You’re staying here with me in Vermont.”

She suddenly realized the extent of her father’s resources. It wasn’t like she didn’t know, but she remembered. “They’ll come here. They know your name. You—I mean me—in the emails, told them. My dad...”

Dexter nodded. “I’m sure he has the ability to find us. I’d be surprised if they haven’t already. But tell your mom you’re embarrassed about leaving, missing Christmas, and upsetting her. Tell her the truth. That you want to see them, but not yet. And you’re not ready for the whole family. Tell her that you and I will go together to Iowa once we’re settled. Use me as an excuse. Say that I can’t leave again so soon with my work.”

“Okay.” She could do that. Her fingers perched again over the keys.

Each word was easier than the last. By the time she finished the things Dexter had told her to write, she thought of other things she wanted to share. “Can I tell her about your gardens? My mom loves plants as much as I do.”

“Yes, bug. Add what you want. Just let me read it before you hit send.”

Once she began, her fingers flew. She described the home she was now sharing with Dexter. She talked about spring and how much she loved the colors. By the time she finally signed her name, she’d shed more than a few tears, but her heart was full.

She turned the computer to Dexter with a smile. “Will you tell me when she responds?”

“Yes.”

After reading, he tapped send.

“You didn’t change anything?”

“Why would I? Was that all true, the part about the house and flowers?”

“Yes,” she said, leaning back against the soft material. “It’s a beautiful home.”

“One day we’ll invite them here.”

Again, Natalie eased from the sofa to Dexter’s feet. This time, instead of sitting as he had taught her, she wedged her way between his knees. It was the way he fed her on some days long ago, far away. Looking up, she smiled. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Are you glad you did it?”

She nodded. “You were right. I’m excited that I did, and I can’t wait to hear back.”

“The next step will be calling.”

The smile faded from her face, her green eyes losing their shine.

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Dexter.”

He petted her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ears. “I love you, too, my Nat.”

She looked from his ocean-blue gaze to his waist and back up. Biting her lip, she said, “It’s up to you, my king. I’m not trying to take control, but right now, I’d really like to show you how much I appreciate your knowing what’s best for me. I’m glad I wrote them. I am. You were right. And I wouldn’t have done it without your prompting. When you decide it’s time to call them, I’ll do it.”

“How?”

Her cheeks rose. “Definitely my hands, my mouth, and if you desire...anywhere else.”

“In position, bug.”

She wiggled to her knees as he leaned back. “Take it out. Let’s start with a kiss.”

Nat licked her lips as she unbuckled his belt. Her fingers worked nimbly as she freed his cock. By the time it was out, he was rigid with the tip glistening. One more look to his eyes and she leaned forward, opening her lips just enough to run them down his length.

“Kiss first,” he reminded her.

She puckered, kissing the tip.

“Now.”

Her heart was full as their suite filled with his deep growl.