Tears leak from the corner of my left eye, over the top of my nose, then mingle with the ones forming in my right as the side of my face presses into my comforter. My entire body aches, having been in this position for at least an hour now. My back hurts with every breath I take, so I try to time them with the movements of my arms. My keeper told me I had to stay on my knees, my naked bottom up in the air, but he didn’t give me specifics on how to position my arms. So I alternate between having them above my head and stretched out behind me.

Every time I believe I can’t stay like this any longer, I remember the hurt in Xander’s eyes, the pain I caused him with my deception. And my resolve to please him regains strength. If this is what it will take to make him come back, then this is what I must do. I will allow myself no other choice.

To pass the time, I think about what could be going on inside my body at the moment. And to distract myself from the pain, I begin to recite the stages of human embryogenesis. “Day one, fertilization. Day two, cleavage. Day three, compaction. Day four, differentiation. Day five, cavitation. Day six, zona hatching. Day seven, implantation. Day nine, cell mass differentiation. Day twelve, bilaminar disc formation. Also day twelve, mesoderm formation. Day eighteen, mesoderm spreading. Day twenty-three, embryonic sack enlargemen—”

“And what stage of development could you be, my broken little bird?”

His deep voice inside my bedroom makes me jolt, but I keep my position, my heart pounding with both excitement and overwhelming love. He came! My keeper truly came!

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, counting the days since I inseminated myself. “Cavitation, Master,” I respond clearly.

“And what does that entail?” he prompts, making my soul soar. How many times had we done this in the past, him quizzing me, rewarding me for correct answers, punishing me when I would be wrong? Sometimes I’d give the incorrect answers, even when I knew the chapter by heart, just to feel his heavy hand against the raw flesh of my backside.

I smile through my flowing tears, the pain in my body all but forgotten. “After ovulation, the endometrial lining transforms, preparing to accept an embryo. The lining thickens, the secretory glands elongating, and it increases in vascularity. After its transformation, the lining is then known as the decidua. Then it splits into an inner and outer layer. Two days later, the fertilized egg, also known as a blastocyst at this stage, implants in the inner layer, and then the placenta forms around it.”

“Now, tell your Master. Were you in your fertile window when you filled yourself with my seed?” His voice is much closer, and I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to absorb him with all my other senses. I hadn’t heard him enter my apartment; I was focused too much on the agony of my immobile position and my recitation.

“I was a few days earlier than my window,” I breathe, “but I took precautions.”

“Precautions? What did you do, little bird?” I feel his heat behind me, my skin prickling at his nearness.

“Clomiphene citrate and gonadotropins.”

“Ah, you cunning little thing. But without blood tests and ultrasounds, there is no way to tell if your attempt at forcing an egg to release early worked. Yet… if my calculations are correct, that means today”—his hand glides over one of my upturned globes, and I could sob I’m so overwhelmed with happiness—“would be your ovulation day.”

“You’re astoundingly accurate, as always, my love.” I barely get out the words before my world spins on its axis as Xander’s steely arms scoop me up before laying me on my back. But I’ve been in that position for so long that I can’t unfold my limbs, the ache almost unbearable, and I can’t hold back the whimper that escapes me, along with a few tears.

“There’s my broken little bird,” he coos, taking his wide, searing palms and placing them around where my thigh meets my hip. He begins to massage the muscles there before working his way down to my knee, and I moan at the glorious feeling of his hands on my flesh. He moves to the other side, showing it the same attention before pulling my legs straight, forcing me to stretch out. As circulation returns, pins and needles shoot down my calves and into my feet, but most of the pain is gone.

I stay perfectly still, not knowing what his next move will be. I have no idea what went on in the past hours, while he was home, after he saw my task of getting the videos into his mailbox before he got to his house was complete. Will I be rewarded or punished? Can he see I’ve been punished enough? I’ve learned my lesson. There is nothing in this world that would ever make me hurt my Master ever again.

My eyes never leave his devastatingly handsome face, the new lines at the corners of his eyes and the deep trenches between his brows only adding to his perfection. Finally, he crawls over me, his knees and hands pressing into the mattress at my sides. I lie completely still, taking long, slow breaths to keep from launching myself upward and latching onto him.

His eyes move over my breasts and down to my stomach, his brow furrowing as he takes in the faded bruise. “Clomiphene and gonadotropins. You pierced yourself, took a needle to your beautiful flesh,” he murmurs, and I can’t tell by his tone if he’s angry, or sad.

“For you, my love. I would do it again and again if it meant I could give you what you’ve always wanted. What we have always wanted. I’d do it again, and much more. Whatever it takes,” I vow, and my breath catches in my throat as he leans down, pressing his lips to the mark. And then he moves, trailing kisses over to my belly button then down before laying his stubbled cheek to the skin directly over my womb.

“Are you in there, little love?”

I barely make out his whispered words, but as they circle around in my spinning mind, they do something to my heart. He’s never spoken so softly, never shown such a crack in his armor. Those words weren’t meant for me. They were meant to be between a man and the child he’s always dreamed of.

After a moment, he rises above me, his mesmerizing eyes staring down into mine. “That’s not the way I wanted my baby to have its beginning inside you. But I understand why you did it, bird. And if you hadn’t gone through all of this, biding your time until the opportune moment… only the universe knows what would’ve happened. I would’ve wasted my life with a woman I despise while she continued to lie to me, never giving me the one thing I want out of this existence.” He bends his elbows to whisper in my ear, “But you, little bird, you took matters into your own hands, knew what would make me happiest, even though you took that control away from me. And I forgive you.”

All the air leaves my lungs with his final words, and I let out a sob. “Thank you, Xander” is all I can say.

“I need to take you, little bird. I need to fill you with my cum, just in case it didn’t work,” he tells me, his tone desperate.

“Yes. Yes, Master. Please,” I beg, and finally reach for him.

“You are such a good girl. What if I had been upset and not forgiven you? What would you have done?” He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over my stomach, misleading me with his question.

I gulp. “I would have understood and taken any kind of punishment you wanted to give me. I would take a year’s worth of lashings, if it meant you would forgive me.” In that instant, he bites the bruise on my stomach. I jolt upward, and little pain-filled yet aroused tears drop from my eyes. I’m filled with so much remorse, sorrow, and bittersweet feelings from our homecoming that I can’t control my emotions. I am an absolute wreck.

“I’m in love with you, and we both know I couldn't hurt you for that long.”

I peer down at him and whimper. “You did when you left. I’ve been in constant pain and desolation since you walked away.” He stops his torture when my words hit him, and he slowly takes in what I said, giving me time to continue. “And if I hadn’t conceived this plan, I would have spent the rest of my seconds, minutes, hours, years on this earth in pain.”

“Stop it now. Do not dwell on the past. I did what I had to do.” I see something pass in his eyes. A quick look of regret? Yet it seems far deeper than that. It’s the look of guilt layered with remorse. I almost call him on it, but I decide against it. I assume it’s the realization that I am right. He destroyed me. Brought me back to life. And then destroyed me again.

“I had to do things that way, because it was my only option, but fate and the universe had other plans. All the evils in this world sparked a dark desire in you, and you gave in and latched onto it, and it brought you back to me. Now lie back and let me make it up to you. Let me kiss away those years of pain.” He silences me before I can speak, his lips descending on mine, licking, biting, controlling, and taking what’s his.

Usually, I would fight to take it all from him after years of deprivation, but I’m dying to be spoiled with his affection, stroked deep with his apologies. He’s being too damn good to me, his touches so intimate. I’ve dreamed of this homecoming for so long. Touched myself so many nights to the image of him.

He trails his hand down to my thighs, and in a quick move, he pushes my knees toward the mattress, spreading me open for him. Our lips part and he stands at his full height again, and like déjà vu, I watch him undress like I watched him do so many times all those years ago. It takes me a moment to notice my own breathing has begun coming out as sad sobs.

He removes his shirt and pauses. Reaching out, the tip of his finger touches the pout of my bottom lip, and I pucker to leave a kiss, my face becoming stained with tears. “You have no reason to cry, little bird. I am here now, and I will never leave your side again.”

“I love you. Xander, I love you. Please, take it.” I shiver under his harsh, lusty gaze.

“I love you too, pretty baby. Remember that as I take you tonight, because there will be moments when you might think I hate you, and you won’t remember anything but my fucking name.”

I gulp once again, and he removes the rest of his clothes, his cock already standing full-mast. Licking my lips, I feel my clit throb and I swear to the high heavens or the pits of hell that if I don't feel him inside me soon I will completely fall apart.

His cock gains my full attention, and a thousand and one memories of times I was beneath him and taking each thrust, each delicate touch, and each ravishing fuck come rushing in like a hurricane’s wave. I whimper looking at his hard shaft, knowing that, finally, it’s all mine and we will never part again. Ever. Because if the sperm didn't take before, it will now. He will own me, and he will be trapped.

I will have imprisoned my love in a cage like he has ensnared me all these years, and I yearn for that knowledge.

I feel like my body is submerged in ice water, and when I rise from it, I am thrust straight into desert heat. My body is alive with two opposing forces, desire and fear. I have wanted him so long I fear I may shatter into nothing upon his claiming, yet I desire him so much that I hope he never stops.

“I’m fucking hungry. I want to eat you alive. Make your body shiver and your skin prickle with desire,” he whispers, coming down onto his knees between my spread legs. He makes first contact, his thumb kneading the inside of my knees, his cock heavy and throbbing between us. The head angry, just like he feels inside. Xander isn't mad at what I’ve done. He’s mad because he wants me too much and he can’t stop the resentment stirring in his brain after years of leaving us both empty inside until our reunion.

“You look so different, little bird. God, you're more of a woman now. Still fragile, but a woman. Look at these delicious legs.” Xander leans down and nips at my thigh, and I shudder, my back arching from the bed and hands gripping the sheets under me.

“Oh, Master! Please tell me I haven't changed too much,” I sob, as he tilts his head to the other thigh to nip at it.

“Never. I still smell and see the young woman I fell in love with all those years ago. Your pussy is potent and begging to be tasted. What do you think, little one? Should…” He pauses, moving his lips up my thigh with an open-mouth kiss. “I…” Another kiss, only higher this time. “Fucking…” He is two breaths away from my wet center, which is desperately trying to get his attention. “Taste it?” And with his eyes looking up over my shaved mound, he unleashes a whip of his tongue against my clit, and I unravel. I come on his tongue, unprepared but so wound up that I couldn't stop myself. That was euphoria.

“Xander!”

“Mm-hmm. Still the same sweet, devilish taste. Still as responsive as ever. You fucking siren.” He keeps at me, eating me and swallowing down my juices, feasting on me as if I were being served up on a silver platter. “Don’t you ever try to leave me, Lizith. You let me go so easily before. But know that if you ever try to leave me,” he whispers against my skin, leaving my core and moving up my body, caging me in. When we are face-to-face, our lips but inches apart, his strong, dominant hand finds my neck and he squeezes with enough force to momentarily steal my breath. “I won’t be so quick to let you leave. I would hunt you down and lock you away. Now, answer me honestly and I won’t be forced to do so, sweet baby.”

Pausing, I nod, my eyes heavy from lack of oxygen.

“Has another man touched this exquisite little pussy in my absence?” he asks, and I shake my head rapidly, without pause. And when I try to speak, with no luck from lack of oxygen, he releases my neck from his grasp. “Speak now.”

Xander is content with my answer, but I want him to be pleased. “Little birds only belong to their masters. My pussy is yours. My creamy, soft skin is yours. My dangerous, psychotic heart is yours.” I recite, word for word, what he told me when he made me his the first time, and I watch his eyes glimmer and his lips tug in pride.

Xander speaks, recounting that night so perfectly, repeating what he said after he told me that. “Now what do you tell me, little bird?” He knows what is coming and he is on edge waiting for it, giving me momentary power.

I pause, eyeing his face. When enough time passes, I smirk darkly, sinisterly, fucking crazily. “I am your little bird now, Master. So fuck me like Masters fuck their pretty little psychos.” And with a dark look in his eyes and a proud, tempting smile on my face, he thrusts into me fully, nearly splitting me in two.

“My kingdom. I’m back in my world,” he growls, his eyes turning a darker shade, a slight mist glazing them.

“I kept it just how you wanted it. But better. God, Master, you make me feel alive. I haven’t breathed since you left,” I moan as he keeps his weight stable on his extended muscular arms. That’s when I see it; how I missed it before, I don’t know. Just to the left of me, on the underside of his bicep, he has a black bird tattooed there. Shadows and gray hues surround it to make it masculine and forbidding. Edgar Allen Poe would appreciate the darkness of the intricate ink.

“X… Xander,” I say through a sob, my lips reaching to kiss the skin where it lies.

“That’s right. You think you were the only one living in pain without our love? You think you are the only crazy one here? Wrong. You marked me deep too, baby.” He breaks from his role as Master and slips into my soft lover.

His crystal blues and faint lines around those beautiful orbs pierce me, and my eyes water. “I love you. I love you so much.” I kiss the skin each time he slides from me, and when he slams back in, I scream out my sorrow and bittersweet happiness. He’s home. My keeper is home again.

I find relief and feel justified when I see the tattoo. Xander never forgot me. He never let me go.

He keeps at me, taking and giving, stealing and returning. The thrusts are deep and pronounced and done with purpose.

“I love you, baby,” Xander whispers, kissing my neck. He has one hand on the underside of my knee just up beside his rib; his other is above me, lost in a grip of my hair. My hands scratch at his broad shoulders, and my lips are locked on his tattoo. “Come now. Relax and come knowing you are with me again and forever.”

I clench and scream out, his name a plea on my lips, and with a bite on my shoulder, he causes me to erupt.

“Fuck. I missed you,” he growls once again, and follows me over the edge. My insides fill with him, and it is the perfect completion on the day of our reunion.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I’m home,” he whispers.

“Forever.”