The ride home in the car is long and silent. When we get to the house, Grace goes straight to her room. “I’ll be up in a minute,” I say. “Leave your door open.”

For the last two hours, I haven’t left her side. She talked to the police, called her parents, even called James’s father. Her parents insisted on coming to get her, but wouldn’t promise she could stay with them. She stood her ground. She was fine, she said. She was staying with a friend like she told them before. She’d come home when she was ready.

And then, when we got in the car, she admitted everything. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she described how she escaped. She apologized for making me miss work, for ruining my birthday, for the whole charade at lunch.

I didn’t say a word in response. There was nothing to fucking say. As soon as I went into my shell, she went into hers. Her tears dried up and she stared out her window.

So she protected me. She lied to Miriam and played the charming girlfriend. I was grateful for about five minutes, until it occurred to me. Her little act was only necessary because she tried to get away. She tried to get away from me.

I can imagine how my footsteps sound to her as I climb the stairs. Good. Let her piss her panties from fear. She caused this. I guess she missed bawling her eyes out on James’s grave so much, she had to break out to see her ghost. She had to give up thirteen million dollars and run back to the shit I saved her from.

I walk into her room. She sits against the wall, her face impassive. Blank and devoid of emotion, like an abandoned doll.

I want more than that. Much more.

I want regret to contort that pretty face. I want I’m sorry and you own me to be the only English she utters for a week.

I walk up and squat in front of her. She dares to look me right in the eye.

“Tell me again, Grace,” I say. “Tell me how you only came back because this Isaac fuck-up was at the news conference.”

She shakes her head. I hate the coldness in her face. She’s switched off. Life is too painful. She ventured out into the world this morning and it shattered her after one hour. Her parents blew up her world and drove her back to me. And I’m all she’s got. Again.

Every time I think about her walking back to me, I have to block it out. I don’t want to feel anything. I don’t want to imagine my beautiful virgin slave trudging home in shame. I’m so pissed off, I want an empty hole where my heart should be.

I can’t be soft. She needs me to care. And the way I care hurts sometimes.

I slap her face. She whips her head back, her eyes burning into me.

“You said a lot of things on the way home, but you didn’t tell me why,” I say in a dark growl. “Why, Grace? Why did you do it?”

She sets her mouth. Her lips are dark pink, making her scar look like a tiny silver thread.

“Fucking answer me. Did you learn your life skills from James? Did he teach you how to lie? Run away? Blame?”

She narrows her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You were fooled by him, weren’t you? Your fucking saint. You’d rather grieve him than live.”

“Today had nothing to do with him.”

“Bullshit.” I haul her to her feet. She stands in front of me, helpless, beautiful, and cold as ice.

I take every bit of jealousy and fury out on her dress, and rip it off her. She’ll never wear it to run away again.

She stands in the bra and panties I bought her, looking like an abandoned street urchin. The ribbons of her dress fall to the floor. She glances down at what I’ve done, but she doesn’t cry. She won’t give me the fucking pleasure.

I lean down so close I’m almost kissing her. “Your door wasn’t locked after the second day, Grace. You’ve been free every fucking second.”

She sucks in a breath. Finally, some emotion in her face. Surprise. Sadness. The realization that she doesn’t know me at all.

“Why?” she asks.

“You said you were choosing to stay, and I believed you.” I grab her chin in my hand and stare hard into her soul. “Tell me why you left. Tell me why you’d risk your life.”

She spears me with her jade-green eyes. This time, she doesn’t hesitate. “You drove away last night. You made me come and then you left me alone.”

My fury cracks. I expected her to complain about my inhumane rules or callous treatment of her tender body. But I didn’t expect this, in that soft, almost hurt tone of voice.

“You were asleep,” I say.

“I woke up when you shut my door.”

I shrug. “I had something to take care of.”

“Something, or someone?”

I tilt my head. She can’t be jealous. Women like Grace and my mother don’t get jealous. Their whole fucking lives are tangled up in men who aren’t around.

But I can’t help prodding her. To see if there’s a scrap of feeling that didn’t get buried six feet under.

“Why do you care where I was, Grace?”

Her eyes are alive now, crackling with color and feeling. “I don’t.”

Turning my palm up, I push my hand into the panties I bought for her. My panties. My pussy. “That’s not true.”

She squirms her hips to try to escape my touch. “You forced me to come and then you left.”

I hook one rough, cold fingertip into her pussy and another in her ass. She gasps as I yank her against me. “Forced you? You begged.”

“I’ve been isolated,” she stammers, her slick juices flooding my fingers. “You’ve kept me prisoner.”

“And made you very jealous, apparently.”

“So what? I’m human. What you did…you shouldn’t leave a woman alone after that. It isn’t fair.”

She’s biting her lip and her face is red. She’s never looked prettier. I’ve never wanted to fuck her more.

I love her beautiful humiliation. I love her jealousy. I love that it’s all for me.

“You silly girl,” I say, stroking a finger between the lips of her cunt. “There is no one else. There hasn’t been anyone else in years.”

“Years?” she says.

“A very long time.”

She squeezes her feminine muscles around my fingers. “I shouldn’t care,” she says. “It’s stupid. But if you’re going to be the first man…”

“Who does everything to you,” I say.

She nods with such innocence my heart breaks. “I don’t know if you still want to be, but just while I’m here, I don’t want to…”

It’s almost more than I can stand. Her sweet possessiveness. Her need to have me for herself, even if it’s just for now. “You don’t want to share me,” I say.

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Thank you,” she says, and I try to be satisfied with that. But there’s more in her eyes. Something darker and more complicated than jealousy.

“What else, Grace?” I say, holding her warm pussy in the palm of my hand. “That wasn’t all that made you run. Was it?”

She turns her face away. Her cheeks catch fire. “I saw the book.”

“What book?”

“The one in your drawer, with all those pictures.”

I flinch inside. I never thought she’d see the album from the Black Halo. I should have. I’d left her door unlocked, even if I hadn’t told her. I wanted to see how obedient she was.

I never thought she’d run. I thought vengeance was more important to her than anything else.

“Did the pictures scare you?”

“Yes,” she says. “I saw Coral. She looked so different.”

“She was back then.”

Grace’s eyes search mine. “Is that going to be me?”

“Do you want it to be you?”

The prettiest confusion shadows her face. “I don’t know. I know I’m curious sometimes.”

“About being that kind of girl?”

“Yes. But that’s not really why I ran.” She’s so quiet, I strain to hear her words.

“Why then? I won’t be angry, I promise.”

She chews the inside of her bottom lip. “Whatever you’re doing to me, I’m afraid it’s working.”

“Working? How?”

“It’s just…I don’t feel like myself. You’re all I think about. It’s being in this room alone, dependent on you.” Her gaze is so strong I feel naked. “You know what you’re doing,” she says. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

She knows me. I’m still a virtual stranger, but she knows me in the ways that matter. “I want to be everything to you while you’re here,” I say.

And always, I almost say. I want your loyalty to me no matter what happens. I want your soul forever.

“But I don’t want to change,” she says, voice shaking. “I don’t want to forget. I want to be me.”

I pull my hand from her panties and wrap it around her waist. She’s small and fragile against me, a bundle of burning questions. “That girl, the one you were? She’s not you anymore.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “But she’s all I know. And you just want to break her.”

“She was broken when I found her. I want to put her back together again.”

I never thought I’d end this day blaming myself for her escape. Now I see how fragile she is. How every move I make matters. She hears every sound and reads into everything I say.

All she wanted was to please me by coming. And when I left, I hurt her. My sweet, broken girl.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“No, I am.”

Raising my hands to her jaw, I lift her face toward me. Her mouth is open, wet, and sweet. I can’t resist her. I shove my tongue in deep, tasting her honey-scented breath. Before she can control herself, she kisses me back, her hot tongue tangling with mine.

What she wants, what she doesn’t want – it’s all the same now. It’s all wrapped up in me.

She whimpers when I pull away, her neck craning forward for more. I smile into her upturned face.

“What happened, Grace? This morning when I went to work, I thought I was leaving a good girl in charge. A girl I could trust.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her chin quivering. “I ruined your birthday.”

Her remorse touches me in a place I thought was dead. “No, Grace. This is my birthday. Right now.”

Sliding her thick curtain of auburn hair aside, I bite her neck gently. She sucks in a high breath. I watch the marks of possession as they imprint her beautiful pale skin.

Mouth to her ear, I lower my voice to a whisper. “You know what bad girls do sometimes?” I say, slipping my hand back into her panties. “They jump to conclusions and get jealous.”

She gasps in a little breath. “I’m sorry, I –”

“We need to do something about that, right now.”

“Now?”

I drag two fingers through her soaked slit and hold them in front of her face. “What does that look like to you?”

She swallows hard. “I don’t know.”

“It looks like I want to suck Bram’s big cock to me. You’ve never sucked one before, have you?” I know damn well she never has. I just want to hear her say it.

“No,” she says, widening her eyes. “Never.”

“I think it’s time, then.”

I push her to her knees with one hand and unzip my pants with the other. It’s not the gentle introduction to cock-worship I had planned, but it’s what I want tonight. It’s what she deserves.

A little correction in the form of my dick in her throat. A reminder that she’s not in charge with me, and never will be.

“Keep your lips closed,” I say.

She blinks up at me. Behind a sparkle of fear is something dark and beautiful. Respect. She needs this. It’s her security. No one’s ever been able to control her, before me.

“Closed?” she asks.

“Yes.” I take off my tie and shirt, and drop my pants so my stiff cock is right in front of her. I let her stare at it in fascination for a minute before tipping her chin up with my fingers.

“Look at me now. Keep your eyes on mine.”

Taking my dick in my fist, I rub the swollen head against her smooth, closed mouth. Her eyes are shy as I slick salty precum over her lips. Back and forth over her cupid’s bow and in each corner until her full mouth is glistening.

“Taste,” I say, stepping back. The tip of her tongue flickers out and snakes along the edges of her lips. Her eyes never leave mine.

“You like that, Grace? You like tasting how horny you make me?”

“Yes,” she says, and swallows.

“Good,” I say. “Now open.”

Like the cock-sucking virgin she is, she opens her mouth an inch.

“Wider.”

She opens a tiny bit more. I want to smile at her innocence, but bad, jealous girls don’t get smiles.

I slap her right cheek and listen to the beautiful crack it makes. She lets out a little cry. My gaze is like a hook, holding her and not letting go.

“Wider,” I say. “Wide enough for my big dick.”

Her jaws separate as she follows my order. I can see her white teeth and pretty pink tongue, just waiting to take me.

I let the head of my cock graze her lower lip as I enter her mouth.

The hard, veiny underside slips over her tongue and strikes the back of her throat. She gags a little and tears glisten. Her glassy eyes are scared, but focused on mine.

“Now suck,” I tell her, hearing the gruff demand in my voice. Part of me wants to be kind and gentle, but she needs strong right now. I need it, too.

She closes her luscious mouth and sucks like a child with candy. She’s awkward but eager, trying hard to make me happy.

I drop my head back and live in the sensation of her gentle sucking. “Yes, baby. Suck it like a good girl.”

Her lips stroke down my shaft, finding their rhythm. My ass clenches and my muscles go rigid, making my dick so hard my balls ache.

It drops out of her mouth and she blushes bright red. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

I cup her cheek. “Look at me, Grace. You can’t do anything wrong.”

I stroke her skin. She has no idea. Every earnest lick, trembling breath, and nervous heartbeat is perfect.

She tries so sweetly. Tears run down her cheeks as she sucks and gags and sucks harder, giving everything she has. She’s tried her whole life to please and be good. And here, with me, it matters. She doesn’t have to be perfect, or even succeed. She just has to try.

My cock is too big for her, but she doesn’t stop. Dominant, competitive thoughts flit through my mind, bringing me even closer to coming.

James never had this. The poor bastard never felt her mouth suck his dick. He never pinched her nipples, or spanked her gorgeous ass raw. She never came for him. He died without taking her precious virginity.

He may have her heart, but damnit, I’ll have everything else.

And after the things she said tonight, I’m not giving up on her heart, either.