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Softly, he whispered, “Nothing lasts forever. Not even when you want it to.”

“The accident.”

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken until he whipped around to face her. “What did you say?”

“The woman you loved and lost in the accident. She’d vowed to be with you forever, hadn’t she?”

“Actually, I’d vowed to devote my life to her.” His lips twitched, as if he was trying to smile, but the effort was beyond him. “I would still, if fate hadn’t taken that choice from me.”

The raw pain in his voice reminded her of the lyrics he’d sung earlier, overwhelming her fear with shared suffering and understanding. He hadn’t wanted to attack her just now. He’d been trying to drive her away. Whether he did so because he was afraid of being hurt again, or from some twisted loyalty to his dead love was unimportant. All that mattered was that her first impression of him had been correct.

Gayle shifted position, from a crouch to a cross-legged seat, and patted the bedspread. “Why don’t you come sit over here?”

Rikard’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you want to get dressed and leave?”

“No. I want to talk to you. And I don’t want to do it from across the room.”

Hesitantly, he crossed the room to the bed. He lingered a long moment beside it, then slowly climbed on top and crawled over to where she sat. She watched him with avid appreciation. No longer terrified, the adrenaline flooding her bloodstream had made her incredibly horny. All she wanted right now was to get laid.

“I still want to be your submissive. I still want you to make love to me, whatever way gives you pleasure. But I can’t say it’s forever. I don’t know. Maybe we’ll discover we’re so good together, we want to make this a permanent relationship. Maybe we’ll find out we get on each other’s nerves and go our separate ways. The only way to find out is to try.”

He reached toward her, checking his gesture when his hand was still half an inch from her face. “You want to try?”

She leaned forward, pressing her cheek to his gloved palm. “Yes.”

His breath caught. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

He clutched her to him, stroking his cool, damp gloves over her heated back in a frenzied effort to press her body closer to his. His mouth devoured hers, his tongue plunging deeply to capture her every soft whimper and moan. His cock rose between them, but he didn’t break the kiss until she was growing lightheaded from lack of oxygen.

When he finally lifted his head, his breathing was harsh and ragged, as he struggled to pull air into his lungs.

“Say you’re mine,” he rasped. “At least for now.”

“I’m yours.”

He plunged into another kiss, the warm leather of his gloves gliding across the thin sheen of sweat on her back. Gone was the slow and careful buildup of passion that had characterized their earlier loveplay. He used no games or skillful tricks to whet her appetite. There was only crushing need, threatening to engulf them both in a firestorm that would burn them to cinders if they didn’t find a way to express it.

This was not a Master, controlling his submissive’s actions and reactions. This was a man, driven past his ability for self-restraint. This was Rikard.

She reached for his mask, wanting to remove the symbol of his mastery, freeing them both to be nothing more than a man and a woman, making love. He chose that moment to lift his head again, out of her reach, as he dragged in another gasping b

reath.

“Let me make love to you,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Let me see my marks on your skin while I love you.”

“Yes.” She could refuse him nothing.

Gently, with hands that trembled, he lowered her to the bedspread, then rolled her onto her stomach.

“Kneel,” he whispered, his hands on her hips guiding her ass into the air as she pulled her knees up, her head pillowed on her crossed arms. Reverently, he kissed the swollen results of his earlier scene play.

Gayle shuddered, his soft lips reawakening the painful pleasure of his hand and whip striking her ass. Her folds parted, plump and wet, ready for his possession.

The bed shook as he clambered over to the nightstand and the supply of condoms in the drawer. She heard the packet tear, then his soft groan as he rolled the condom onto his engorged cock. A moment later, he was kneeling between her legs, one hand on her hip, holding her steady, while his other guided his cock to her entrance.