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“You will be a good girl and come with me.”

A good girl. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Mentally. Physically her body wanted to prostrate itself before him and worship him. Promise to be whatever it was he wanted.

“How do you want me to be good?” she asked.

His eyes moved over her slowly, and she could feel it like a caress. “I want you to be Esme.”

It was the last thing she expected. Because she felt like he had only come over to her because of the dress. That he had certainly only offered to do this because she was dressed up to look like the sort of woman who would appeal to him.

That he might actually want Esme Brown was something she hadn’t considered at all.

She followed him, down the narrow corridor, to another door with another layer of security. There was a black winding staircase beyond that led to a sumptuously furnished set of rooms that clearly existed just for this purpose.

“How many women have you entertained here?” she asked, looking around the room at the sleek designer furniture, seemingly created for very active sex. From the glorious counters, which she could imagine him bending her over, to the curved couches, which seemed just the right height for certain positions.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, agapi.”

“Who said I didn’t want the answers?”

“You might think you do. But they will make you spiteful.”

“I don’t feel spiteful at the moment, actually.”

“Good.” He moved closer to her, pressed his thumb to her lower lip and dragged it ruthlessly across the soft skin. “I don’t want you spiteful. I want you biddable. I want you to take everything that I give you and say ‘thank you, sir.’”

“You can’t possibly mean that.”

“Are you a brat, Esme?”

“You’ve known me for most of my life, you should know whether or not I’m a brat.”

“You know that is not the context I’m asking about.”

She did. She was well aware of what he meant by that.

“Are you into BDSM?”

“More rough sex than that,” he said. “But I would never turn down the chance to be called master.”

“Unlikely,” she said, the word more breathless than she would like. “I would keep my expectations managed if I were you.”

He chuckled. “No. I think I would like to see you beg.”

“I thought you were more protective of me than that.”

“You had your chance. You could’ve turned away. When you agreed to come up here with me then you relinquished your rights to the Adonis you knew as your protector, agapi. If you want me to be your lover, you are asking for something else entirely.”

Yes. She was. But Adonis was gone. At least, the way that he had once been in their lives.

They would never have that again. He was leaving. Their day-to-day interactions were going to be no more, and everything would be different. So why shouldn’t this be different too?

“Show me,” she said.

He growled, and wrapped his arm around the back of her head, grasping it, pulling her forward for a searing kiss. He unzipped the dress, let it fall loose and then fall away from her body. She did not have underwear on beneath it. It was impossible for her to have that.

She was naked, except for the shoes. He pulled away from her, tilted her chin up and then began to firmly push her down. She followed the movement, going down to her knees before him.

“Yes. Excellent.”