There are no nerves anymore. No internal dialogue. There is just me taking my clothes off. I stand up and hitch my shirt over my head, and toss it to him. He catches it, completely straight-faced, and buries his nose into it, making a deep humming sound. It’s not seedy, the way it would be if he’d done that to my panties. He’s just breathing me in, the same way I would do to him if I had the nerve.

“Pants, Sloane. Take off your pants.”

I flick the button on my fly, lower the zip and do as he asks. Somewhere out there, there’s a woman who could wrestle out of wet jeans in a sexy fashion, but that woman is not me. I have to stand on the damn things once I’ve got them around my ankles in order to yank my feet free. Zeth laughs, rests his forehead against his folded arms as though he can’t look, and a gutting sensation hits me. He laughed. He looked shy, almost. For that fleeting moment, he was the guy he would have been if all this crazy shit hadn’t happened to him. The smile fades from his face as I shimmy out of my bra and panties. He becomes serious again, gripped by a lust I can see right there in his eyes.

Apart from the dressing still wrapped around my injured arm, I’m totally naked, and I’m not even slightly embarrassed. I take three steps forward so I’m standing right in front of him and I place my hand on the back of his neck. He’s warm, and for some reason that is so reassuring. He dips his head low, letting me rub my hand softly up the prickly, short hairs that have been shaved at the base of his head.

“This can be different,” he says, breathing hot air over the bare skin of my stomach. “But it will never be that different. I’m always going to own you, Sloane.”

I shiver, feeling…feeling relief. “That’s what I want. That’s what I need.”

It’s as though he’s been holding back and I’ve suddenly said the magic words that cut the ties restraining him. Zeth rockets to his feet, kicking the chair out of the way. I’m tall for a woman, but I feel so small when he looms over me with that look in his eyes. “Get on the bed. Now.”

I walk backward until my legs hit the mattress, and then I lie back down, my rapid breathing lifting my ribcage up and down, up and down.

“Spread your legs for me.” I do it. Zeth nods his approval, growling deep in the base of his throat. “Now touch yourself for me.”

The first time he asked me to do this for him, I was horrified. Now I don’t even hesitate. I slide my right hand down my body, cupping my breast with my left. When I reach my pussy, I slowly rub the tips of my fingers against myself, softly stroking my clit. I’m wet already, of course. That kiss alone would have been enough to prime me. Zeth watches me—his eyes intent and stoic—but I can tell what’s going on inside his head. He wants me. He wants to tear into me. To devour me. Instead he refrains, holding himself back.

He waits until I can’t help myself anymore and I quicken the pace, working my fingers through the slick folds of my pussy, bringing myself closer and closer to the edge.

He undoes his belt.

“Stop, Sloane. Stop.”

I stop.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

My heart rate has kicked up a notch at the sight of the leather belt in his hands. He hasn’t used a belt on me since the first time we were together, but I want it. He’s used his hands to cut off my air supply, but it seems a little more dangerous with the belt. A little more savage. Am I sick for being this excited? I might be, but so what. He would never hurt me; I know that. I trust him. I love him.

I turn over and get up on my hands and knees, and Zeth comes and stands in front of me. He gently, slowly loops the belt over my head and tightens it, and then he does something that surprises me—he hands me the remaining length of leather, so that I’m the one in charge of how tight it becomes. He crouches down so we’re face to face; those big brown eyes are soulful and yet demanding. “It’s up to you, Sloane. You can do this, or I can. I know how much you can take, but—”

I immediately hand the end of the leather strap back to him. My actions are final. This is how our relationship will be now and forever more. Zeth knows how much I can take, and I trust him with that responsibility. A lazy, sexy smile transforms his face into a dark mask that sends a shot of adrenaline around my body. This is it. He tugs lightly on the end of the strap and my pulse begins to throb at my temples. “Be my good girl and don’t fucking move,” Zeth says. He lets go of the strap long enough to pull his T-shirt over his head and throw it aside. His shoes, jeans and boxers go next. I’m faced once more with this beautiful, magnificent man who is perfect in his nakedness, and my heart sings because he’s mine. His cock is already hard and ready for me; he takes it in his hand and I’m blown away by how hot the sight of him touching himself is. He pumps his fist up and down the length of his erection, breathing sharply as he stares at me. The leather strap goes back into his free hand, then, and I’m straining forward, waiting for him to move.

“Patience, angry girl. You’ve not been good enough yet.”

I whimper, needing him. Needing to taste him. He keeps on pumping himself with his hand, though, just out of reach. The muscles in his thighs are raised and defined, tensed hard, as he works his hand over himself.

“Please, Zeth. Please,” I whisper—it’s all I can manage. My body feels like tempered steel. I feel strong right now, even though I am not in the position of power. I feel strong because I know I’ve conquered a considerable amount of fear to allow myself to be here, and that in itself is an accomplishment.