I swallow through the lump in my throat and involuntarily glance around the room for cameras. “Do you?”

His eyes are blazing against the blue pool, but the green that melts me is gone. There’s just the black of his heart spilling out through his pupils. “No,” he says. “I prefer the live show.”

“Please, Calvin. I can’t—please. Don’t make me.”

“Every time you say please, my dick gets a little harder. The harder it gets, the less control I have.” He half rises out of the pool and snatches my wrist, lowering my hand between my legs. He pushes my palm against my clit so I’m cupping myself. When I insert my index finger, he releases my wrist and settles back in the water. I push my mound into my palm and moan softly as my finger plows deeper. When my embarrassment begins to subside and carnality takes over, I realize I like the way he watches me. The look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know: his control is waning, and it’s my doing. In this moment, I’m the one with the power. “Calvin,” I moan when his eyes meet mine.

“Watching is torture, knowing how you feel wrapped around my cock.”

I know he doesn’t need an invitation, but I open my other hand to him. He jumps out of the pool in a rush of water and picks me up in an instant. My legs instinctively circle his waist as he strides forward, backing me up against a wall. The heat of his mouth on mine stuns me, killing anything cold in me. His hips grind against me, my clit yielding to the hardness in his swim trunks as his lips feed off mine. The wall disappears from my back and is replaced with overwhelming heat.

He sets me on my ass, but his hand grips my hair, holding me to him as our tongues collide over and over, wet and slick, soft and hard. He tears away suddenly and my nostrils are flooded with woody scents. I’m sitting on a bench in a sauna, and my already prickling skin burns hotter. He’s ripping at his trunks and when they fall, my gut churns with anticipation to feel him. Without the cloak of darkness, the largeness of him almost has me scrambling backward. I can hardly believe he’s been inside me or that he will be again.

His big hands enclose over my breasts, and he trusses one up for his mouth. My nipple flames under the affection of his hot tongue. He pulls it deeper, taking it between his teeth so it delivers an electric current down the middle of my body. His hand kneads my other breast, and I can’t stop the endless moans spilling out of me. I’ve never wanted anything so badly before, and my body is calling for him with each flutter between my legs. He pushes my back hard into the step behind me as his mouth returns to mine.

“Calvin,” I beg.

“Say it.” He pulls my hips to the edge with one hand while he grabs himself with the other. The crown of his dick rubs over my clit. “Say it, or I’ll make you come like this.”

Ribbons of ecstasy wind through me. My thighs vibrate with his steady rhythm, and I know I won’t last long.

“I-I want you.”

“Wrong,” he says. He squeezes out a bead of pre-cum and massages me faster.

“I want you inside me.”

“Better,” he rasps, his fingers burrowing into my hip. “But still wrong.”

The world is falling apart, leaving gashes of orange, red, and yellow in its place. I don’t remember closing my eyes, but I’m grasping for something as everything swirls behind my lids. My body is in flames, heat licking me all over, and I’m wet and slippery, sweat and pool water stinging my eyes. I hear the echo of my name in my consciousness, and I touch it, hold onto it as I gasp back to life. “Fuck me,” I tell him. “I’m so high on you. Just fuck me, Calvin.”

There are only lost seconds before I’m being pounded into the wood. My eyes are still closed; this fucking is in black and white, so hurried, so hard, and bliss-bright lights burn my retinas before darkness swallows me. My body is all tremors and ripples as I come, and my mind is as high as heaven, as in, I can’t reach it, as in, I’ve never felt anything like this. My everything is entangled around Calvin as my world shimmers between dark and light. My arms and legs and pussy constrict to pull him deeper. My support cracks and splinters, and I’m suspended. I am both purging and gorging, my life seeping through my pores and Calvin’s cum filling the void it leaves, warming my already sweltering body that is just a pool of sweat.

I hear his words, fuck, are you okay, and my arms lock tighter around him because if I let go, I don’t know what will happen. And it’s blindingly clear in this moment how terrified I am of the unknown. There are fingers on my jaw, squeezing, and the world is back, cold and a flood of blue light.

“Cataline.”

“I’m here,” I say. Calvin’s face disappears and reappears like a light strobe. I can’t stop blinking. I’m lying on freezing tile. With a deep breath, I will my eyes to stay open.

Calvin squats next to me, his face examining mine. “How do you feel?”

“Like a miracle. So good.”

His expression turns amused. “That’s from the steam. For a second I thought you were going to pass out on me.”

I sigh, sated. “Is that what it’s like to get high?”

He just laughs. “Come on.”

“Wait.” My hand flies to his upper arm. “Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“The . . . sex. Am I doing it right?”

He stares at me until his mouth hooks at the corner. He glances up and nods behind me. “What do you think? The only way to salvage that sauna is to turn it into a paper factory.”

“It’s ruined?”

“The wood splintered. How did you miss that?”

I flush and sit up quickly, steadying myself with his body when the world spins.

“You were further gone than I realized,” he says. “Maybe I should carry you.”

“I’m fine.” I shake my head and quickly add, “But thanks.”

“You need a shower and food. Then take it easy. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

My body is always betraying me. I nod, but my chin wobbles noticeably enough that he cocks his head at me.

“What?” he asks.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Will you eat dinner with me tonight?”

There is wariness in the narrowing of his eyes. “Why?”

“I’m alone a lot.”

He takes my bicep and urges me to my feet. “Come with me.” We dress, and I follow him back through the mansion. In my bathroom, he pulls my robe off before turning on the shower. He keeps his hand under the stream as he looks at me. “Why are you covering yourself?”

“I’m not used to being naked in front of someone else,” I say.

“Have you ever been?”

“Yes.”

He raises his eyebrows in a way that tells me he knows I’m lying. He removes his hand from the water and holds open the door. “Get in.”

I never take my eyes off him as I enter the shower. He stands in the doorway, staring back at me as warm water plasters my hair to my cheeks. My lashes are dripping, but I don’t blink. I let my arms fall to my sides. He is statue-still, but his knuckles whiten around the handle of the shower door. Finally, he shakes his head and sighs before untying his own robe.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He shrugs it on to the floor. “I have to shower too,” he says as he gets in. “Might as well do it here.”

I’m frozen, unsure of how to respond or act in this intimate setting. He reaches behind me for shampoo, but before he can open it, I put my hand on his and take the bottle. “Let me do it,” I say. The top creaks when I flip it up. Eyes locked with his, gauging his reaction, I squeeze some into my hand. He leans down as I reach high. I have to step closer, and our fronts touch. My hands slide into his thick hair. I sigh. To have my fingers sunken here is euphoric. He closes his eyes as I begin massaging in the shampoo. It’s nothing less than completely unexpected when his arms wrap around me and pull me into his embrace. His forehead rests on mine as my fingers work.

I wonder if anyone has ever taken care of this man. Not the way his staff does, but in a way that feeds his soul. For the first time since arriving at the mansion, I question the demons and devils in him. Did someone else put them there? Does he even know anything else? Is he fixable, and is that what he wants? I drop my hands down to his neck, where I continue to massage, letting my fingers travel over his shoulders and upper arms. His muscles are pure steel, so much so that my fingers and palms ache from digging and probing. The pain is good. He needs this; I can feel it in the way his arms constrict around my torso as he sighs into my hair. Eventually, his head draws back. I try to read his eyes, but I don’t get them for long. “Thanks,” he says, touching the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “I’ll be back for dinner. We’ll eat in your room.”

His arms slip from under mine, leaving me soaked and alone. I know wondering what it would take to make that dark heart light is dangerous. But a wild hunger is building fast in me. I don’t know if I’ve been starved for anyone for months or starved for Calvin my whole life.

My focus on escape cannot waver, though. In the end, it’s me or him. If I try to take on his demons, it could mean my life. Or, worse, I could end up imprisoned here forever.

26

Calvin’s wet touch still lingers on my skin when I exit the bathroom. It’s light out, though the sun is setting early these days. I change into pajamas and decide to nap until Calvin returns. When I wake, I sit up abruptly because Calvin is in the room. The first thing I notice is the way his navy, drawstring pants cling to every bulge and curve below his waist. Then the stark white t-shirt that outlines his muscles. To distract myself, I watch his movements. During the day, he didn’t seem affected by whatever Norman shot into his arm. Now he even seems at ease.