Elle crossed out the words The Virgin on the front page and wrote a new title.

The Runaway.

There. That was better.

At 6:00 a.m., a boy who didn’t even look old enough to drive, much less work at a bus station, arrived for his shift. She was in no mood to talk so of course he asked her how she was, where she was from, why she was here so early.

When he asked her where she was headed she answered with one word.

“Home.”

35

New York City

FREEDOM IS OVERRATED.

It was all Juliette said and all she had to say. Kingsley had her in his arms in an instant, kissing her as if the world would end if he didn’t. And of course, he had to save the world.

“Are you sure you want to be mine?” he asked between breathless kisses.

“Yes,” she said. “Absolutely.”

“There are things you need to know.”

“Fuck me first. Then tell me.”

Kingsley laughed in purest joy. He swept Juliette up in his arms and started up the stairs.

“Put me down,” she ordered. “I can walk.”

“I’ve always wanted to carry a woman up the stairs and ravish her.”

“I won’t stand in the way of your dreams then,” she said, putting her arms around his neck as he mounted the stairs. He carried her straight to his bedroom, kicked the door shut behind him and pushed her onto her back on his bed. It took only seconds to strip her naked and to cover her body in kisses. He kissed her from the graceful turn of her ankle, up her muscular calves, over the soft flesh at the inside of her knees, the long line of smooth skin on her thighs, until he buried his tongue inside her and made her moan for him. His blood was pumping, pounding in his veins. He could feel every muscle in his lower back and stomach tightening with need for her. He licked her clitoris until she shuddered, coming hard with a hoarse cry. He’d missed that sound, the sound of her climax, the taste of her in his mouth, the sight of her on his sheets. For two months he’d convinced himself he’d never see her again, never have her again. He cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples—hard.

“That hurt,” she said, laughing and recoiling at the same time.

“I had to make sure you were real.”

“You’re supposed to pinch yourself,” she told him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You don’t have to pinch me. This is real,” she said. “I lived without you as long as I could stand. I couldn’t wait another day to see you.”

He kissed her breasts gently now, sucking her nipples until they hardened in his mouth.

“Come inside me,” she said. “Please.”

He straddled her thighs and pushed her wrists down deep into the bed, holding her there.

“What are you asking me?” he asked.

“No condoms,” she said. Kingsley froze. He wanted to be inside her bare so much it hurt. And he could. He was clean. And he knew she was, too. But still...

“You know what happened the last time I fluid-bonded with someone...”

“I won’t get pregnant. And if I did...I would keep it.”

Kingsley felt something open up inside him, like a safe that had been cracked and everything that had been hidden, everything valuable was there for the taking. It terrified him to be this vulnerable.

“You can have my cum when you earn it,” he said.

“Tell me how to earn it and I will.”

“Stay,” he said in his most commanding tone. She stayed.

He went to his closet, found a black briefcase and brought it to the bed.

“What is that?” Juliette asked.

“Something I’ve wanted to use for a very long time.” Kingsley flipped the combination—2663—and opened the case. From it he pulled a long thin metal chain with a cuff on the end. He bent and locked one end of the chain to the bedpost at the foot of his bed. He took the cuff at the other end of the chain and held it in his hand for Juliette to see it.

“Pick a number between one and ten,” he said.

“What am I choosing?”

“I’m not telling you until you’ve chosen.”

Juliette answered quickly. “Seven.”

“Perfect,” he said. He grabbed her leg, put her foot on the center of his chest and locked the cuff around her ankle. “Seven days.”

“What?”

“You picked seven days to stay in my bedroom chained naked to my bed.”

“What?” Juliette demanded.

“Don’t worry,” he said in a paternalistic tone. “This chain is long enough so you can reach anywhere in my bedroom and my bathroom. You stay here seven days, locked in. I’ll bring you food and water and anything else you need. You don’t put on clothes. I’ll touch you when I want to touch you, beat you when I want to beat you and fuck you when I want to fuck you. And in seven days, if you’re still here and haven’t asked me to unlock you, then you get what you want from me. Are these terms acceptable to you?”

“You chained me to your bed.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“You said freedom was overrated. Let’s see how you like being my property and my prisoner.”

“I love it already. But I’d love it more if you were inside me,” she said, sitting up on her elbows. She spread her legs for him by way of invitation, an invitation he eagerly accepted. He rolled on a condom and entered her hard and swift and she arched beneath him, taking him deeper. The thin metal chain hissed softly as he fucked Juliette as hard as he could. Chaining her to his bed wasn’t enough. He had to hold her arms down by her wrists, push her legs open with his knees and impale her against the bed with his cock so deep inside her he might not ever get it back out again. If he died inside her, so be it. He’d die happy.