“Two years, princess.” He says low as he unbuckles his belt, the leather sliding free. The trousers follow, and I see it. Completely exposed, hard. He climbs further onto the bed, and I feel like I am now a caged animal, and I know there is nowhere else I would rather be. His eyes are looking at me like I am his prey. He is my first.

The light in his eyes is that of a predator when he sees my body laid before him. There's a wicked smile on his face, yet I know I am in the safest place with him. Harlan has my stomach in knots, and I know he wants me. He comes close to my lips, still looking in my eyes, and his rough lips gently meet mine as his tongue explores my mouth; he tastes of pure unfiltered arousal, his and mine, and it makes me want him more. My hands reach up his chest to touch his tattoos and then the back of his neck, pushing my hands through his hair, and I feel him press in closer. I am not holding back; my hips move towards him, and I instantly feel his arousal between my legs while my heart pounds in my chest. Is this going to be the moment? I wonder.

The heat between us is burning me up. His hands travel to my chest, and he caresses each breast. I moan in his mouth; he groans in return. I can feel his excitement building up next to me, warm and hard. The first time that he has ever been this close to my body, and I know I am so utterly desperate for him. My heart beats rapidly as I hold him in this torturous embrace.

Here I am, right within his grasp, and I want him to ruin more than my mind. In this moment, I would do absolutely anything for this man. As his hand traces my body, I feel him holding back, and after a few moments of satisfying splendour, he breaks for air. I wonder whether I should tell him this is my first time, or will that be foolish? I don’t want him to stop. I want to give him full control. I see his eyes on me, as if he can't believe it’s true that I am lying willingly on his bed. The way he is looking at me now is driving me insane.

“Well, princess, I know you want me right now. Once we do this, there is no going back. Tell me I am wrong,” he says, rubbing his hand across my cheek and wrapping it around the back of my neck, pulling gently on the tiny hairs, making all others stand on end.

I know there is no going back once he takes me; I will no longer be a virgin. His eyes stare into mine, and I can't look away; his eyes are like the lighthouse I’ve never had. Ironically, I long to be lost in them. He leans in so close; his nose touches mine.

“Tell me I am wrong,” he demands, his breath like ice sending tremors through my body.

“I can't. I want you.”

He is breaking me down; I have nowhere left to fall, only further into him. He has got me in his grasp, and all I want to do is allow him in everywhere and not hold back like the wind. He smiles, while his voice lingers like an echo, engraving itself on my very soul.

“I make the others run, princess. I’m coming for you.” He takes a breath "Do you want to run?” I can feel the fire in me as his hand reaches around my waist; I’m lost in the clutches of a man I want to be lost in forever. Burning deep inside from the darkest, dirtiest areas of my soul, so he will make them shine brighter than the stars in the sky. I’m not afraid. Is this my miracle, my adventure?

“You should run before it’s too late.” His hand is on my face, tracing my lips.

“I can’t.” Silence fills the air.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

“I want you to do everything,” I whisper, much to my own disbelief.

“I will show you what it is like to wait,” he promises. I know from the look in his eyes that this is the complete truth, and I wonder just exactly what that means. He towers over me on the bed, raises one hand above my head, and comes back in for a kiss. I can feel my body surrender to him as his graceful touch moves lower down to my inner thigh. I can already feel him in my soul.

My heart is on fire; I’m not going to tell him, I think to myself, even though I can hear my pulse in my ear and feel a throbbing below. I’m unbelievably nervous. Entangled in his touch, the adrenaline is running through me like a hurricane. There is nothing to stop me from moving to the rhythm as his fingers tease me to a level I've never felt in my life. Then I feel it deepen in my soul, lost in thoughts I no longer know how to control.

I feel the urge to completely give myself to him and the unknown. I writhe within his arms, my breathing deepens, and everything becomes high definition. Oh, his touch feeds my starving soul. Oh Lord, what’s happening on the inside? I am totally paralysed in perfect paradise.

Harlan wraps his arms around me, touching me the way he does, with his eyes fixed on mine. I already want to beg for it, to beg for him; most of the world has already disappeared. He pulls me back into his chest gently as the light in the corner now shines on his forearms. I feel his chin rest on my shoulder. Then his fingers continue to trace between my legs, teasing, making my back arch; I am soaked, tender. I can’t believe what my body just went through. It has stirred something deeper in me: the need to give myself to him completely, to have him take me all the way.

“You’re quiet,” he whispers softly, but in a voice with undertones of knowing. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, and he kisses my neck; it does nothing for the present issue. “Talk to me,” he requests as his hands tighten around my waist.

“I like this, the quiet, the peace,” I say, knowing that’s not all. I feel him squeeze me kindly. “I have an ache,” I say. I don’t understand, and I don’t want to leave the warmth of him. His arms flex, and my God, help me, I am so warm right now. I feel the heat creeping up on me like a gentle breeze; all I can think about is his hands on me, soft and gentle.

“An ache? We can fix that,” he promises, and I think he knows; he holds me a little tighter as I squirm in obvious need for something more. He turns me to face him, and his hands slide closer to my heat.

“You want me to finger you, princess?” he asks with complete understanding, placing a hand on my hip, circling on my skin. “Tell me what you need,” he whispers. I know he would give me everything if I asked for it.

“I do; I crave your touch more than the air in my lungs. It’s ridiculous, I know. I want you to take control and pleasure me with your hands,” I say, feeling like butterflies have just set up home in my stomach. I see him smile. And I hear a low, deep rumble come from his throat – a sound of approval and hunger.

“Not ridiculous, honest,” his hand glides slowly down my side. “I love that you need me like this, princess. That you crave what I give you.” His hand slides under the sheet, touching bare skin, his touch deliberate, commanding – each movement calculated to make me feel more pleasure. I look in his eyes.

“Let me take care of you.” He shifts, placing himself behind me. And pulls me back against his hard chest. His hand trails down my stomach.

“No more talking, love. Just feel, you know how,” he said slowly. Oh god. I catch my breath, almost about to spill my other confession. I moan his name like a plea. I feel him tense after hearing that. His hand reaches my waist at an agonisingly slow pace and traces the inside of my thigh. I know he is so close to where I really want him, and this is torture, blissful torture that I never want to run from. His fingers reach deeper with deliberate precision as his mouth finds my neck. His lips are soft and warm. His free hand pins my hips to the spot, keeping me exactly where he wants me to be.

“Oh, Harlan, please…” I whisper as I pull his naked body closer to mine. The tenderness is his weapon, and he knows how to use it well, achingly slow with a darkness that wills to make this moment last like a gentleman – always my saint, each touch with only one goal: my utter unravelment.

 “That’s it, say my name,” he says, lower and rougher. As his fingers work in earnest. I feel him kissing my neck, and I know I am more than halfway there. His fingers work with systematic skill in a rhythm which makes me writhe beneath him. The pressure builds as he pushes me higher with each circle of his fingers with expert precision.

“Feel it, princess,” he whispers.

He inserts a finger into my warmth, and I gasp for air.

“Feel my fingers, love. I want to feel you drench me.” His movements are excruciatingly pleasurable; each slip and dip. Oh fuck, it's heaven wrapped in the heat from hell, bound by no law, and then I know I’m a whisper away, and he freezes everything.

“Oh god, oh fuck me,” I whisper. I feel the smile he makes on my neck. Should I have said please? I don’t think I could be more desperate right now.

“Not yet, princess. Let’s make this moment last a bit longer,” he growls in my ear, relishing what he makes my body do for him under his command and control. The movements begin again, and I rise to the peak as I try to chase the friction as he tightens his grip on my hip. I see him watch me, a flushed, trembling mess. I’m wrong; I know I’m already more desperate.

“I’m begging you, please, I can’t hold much longer,” I whisper while moaning his name. I know he is the one in control here, and he wants me to plead for it. I know I want his cock inside me. My head is spinning. I’m not going to be able to hold out. Sugar, oh sugar.  “Keep going, please don’t stop, Harlan,” I beg as my pleasure reaches its highest level as he continues to push me closer to the edge I long to fall from. His fingers slide in and out of my threshold, and I can hear how wet I am. I can feel my essence trickling towards the bed. I think I’m so close, and then when his thumb swishes so softly over my core, and the heat rises and falls within me, I experience such waves of euphoria like nothing before. My back arches, and I feel his hips grind on my thigh. Oh Lord, I feel everything he is teasing me with, and I want that in me so bloody much I might faint.

“You are going to come, princess. Let me feel it. I want it now, or we may be doing this game all night long. Do you want to play?” His voice was rough with an edge of danger, but commanding a truth. I know I won’t last all night in this way. My legs start to shake, my breathing quickens, and my heart races.

“I want to come; I want to come with you in me,” I plead.

“Then do it now, love.”

He removes his finger and lines himself up. My hand reaches down to feel him; he’s so smooth and soft, and his eyes light up as he watches my small hand place him near my entrance. This is when it hits me. I feel him slide through my hands; tension builds, and I know he can see something in my eyes. Harlan’s thumb smears my juices all over my clit and circles slowly as he rocks himself back and forth. My breathing is quickening, and I can only look in his eyes as each thrust presses just that little bit further. I feel a pressure of pain followed by unexplainable bliss.

“Yes, yes,” I whisper as I move my hand to his hip and thigh so I can feel the pressure. Oh, damn, he is hitting the most pleasurable spots inside me, all the way in, all the way out. “Oh Harlan, oh I…”

Harlan leans his body down against mine; his lips wrap around my pert nipple, and it feels so overwhelming, his hand working magic, his cock hitting bits I can't even reach with a toy, his warm mouth on my chest, sucking and licking with such devotion.

My body moves towards him every chance it gets. I’m lost to him, for him, and I can feel my legs begin to shake. Harlan’s kisses travel up my body to my neck; he licks and sucks my earlobe as his hand circles with precision, and his thumb and forefinger squeeze and pull on my nipple. I know I can’t hold it in any more; I’m going to implode if I don’t let go. He watches my face and keeps his steady pace. My eyes are pleading with his. He smiles,

“Come! Show me how good I feel inside you, give me all your moans and show me you’re mine,” he whispers. I feel the pressure rising, my blood burning warmer and warmer, the ache building and building. My moans become promises and prayers, and I know I am on the cusp of climax; my body becomes lost in him, in his words, in his movements, in complete surrender to every sensation. Harlan doesn’t let up and makes the moment last longer than expected. I finally fall so hard I almost forget to breathe.

Harlan’s speed increases. He pins my arms above my head as he continues to thrust into me. I feel him becoming tense. I listen to his deep groans; my hips rise to meet his, and I hear him in my ear.

“Fuck princess, I’m coming; you feel so fucking good. Oh shit, yes!” Then I feel him deeper than ever before.

“Oh God, thank you,” I say, and he turns my face to his.

“You don’t ever need to thank me for that; that is exactly what I’m here for. To give you exactly what you need,” he promises. I rest my head on his chest, and his arms wrap around me. “You, okay?” he whispers.

“You are my first,” I sigh breathlessly, still in his arms, feeling blissfully relaxed. I feel him soften slightly, the warm look in his eyes. He smiles slightly while moving hairs from my face. When he slips out, a moan escapes me; I've never felt so empty. He pulls a sheet over us both. Watching me intently. The air feels hot and smells completely of him. His scent lingers on my skin. His eyes bore into mine, and I wonder if he knew all along.

“Princess, I know. I saw it in your eyes. You could have told me,” he whispers softly. I look at him, puzzled as to why he didn’t say anything.

“You're not mad?” I ask.

“I would never be mad at you; I wouldn’t change a thing. You tell me things when you are ready, or never. That is up to you,” he states.

“Was I…” he raises his finger to my lips and looks me straight in the eyes.

“You, princess, are perfect,” he says, and kisses my forehead. My body is so numb, but I feel that kiss ignite a buzz all the way down my spine. I can't believe I am finally here in his arms, breathing the same air.

“Harlan--”

“Yes, princess?” he pulls me closer. Oh God, I don’t want to lose a moment of his touch. His warmth, even the sound of his voice, has my nerves sending cold shivers to my extremities as I fly away beyond conscious thought to a sensual wonderland.

“I’m feeling such bliss, and I'm so tired,” I admit. I feel him move closer. His heat is better than an electric blanket, his breath on my neck. And his hands move around my waist.

“Sleep, princess, I’m not going anywhere.”  I bury my head into his chest, and I catch my breath; fuck, he smells so bloody good. My eyes close, my breathing slows. All I can hear is the strong, steady beat of his heart. I hope this isn’t a dream. I think while lingering between the veil of realities.

The Next Day

When my eyes open, I see the sunlight peeking through the gaps in the window. It takes me a moment to remember where I am and what happened last night. The thought of it makes me wet. I turn over, grab my phone, see I have a message from Alice and send her a few emoji pictures, still unable to form words right now. Then I see him lying so peacefully in the bed, still in slumber. I can't help it; my hands trace the tattoos on his chest gently next to the scars. I know he is awake the moment he clasps my wrist. His eyes are still so full of danger and wanting. His hand takes mine down the covers, and I feel it, rock hard.

“Morning, princess,” he whispers as he continues to let me feel his arousal.  “You couldn’t wait, could you?” I know it’s not really a question. His hand reaches towards my legs, and I feel him touch me and sigh with awe “Already dripping for me, I love it.” Harlan shifts in the bed and places me on my back. “Round two?” he asks.

“Yes. Tell me what you are going to do. I want to know in excruciating detail,” I say as I bite my bottom lip, and I see him tilt his head while leaning down towards my ear. I can feel his breath.

“I’m gonna always take my time with you, princess. Gonna taste every part of you again – your neck, your breasts and my favourite sweet spot inside you that makes you lose your mind,” he says while using my hand to rub along his length slowly. “Then I’m gonna slide into you deep and slow until you’re begging for more. I’m going to watch your face as I fill you. Make you come on my cock before I chase my own release,” he promises as he lines up his tip with my entrance, pressing just a little. “Ready for me?” Harlan asks, always checking.

“Oh lord yes, I’ve been ready for years,” I reply. In one fluid motion, I feel him break into me, fill me. I hear a groan escape him like he forgot how good it felt to be in me, as I forgot the comfort of his cock buried within me, the warmth, the desire building with each thrust laced with restraint.

“Years, princess, I know.”

His hips start to move with a slow purpose, deliberate pressure just enough not to pull me apart. Thrusts that seem to go impossibly deep. His hands anchor themselves on my hips, holding me still, setting his own pace to build up the tension in me.

“Every time I saw you, I wanted this, every single time.”

His head comes to my neck, and I feel him kiss and nip the sensitive area just right.

“You feel like home, princess.”

The pace changes, each thrust more powerful than the last. His body moves with such confidence. I know he knows what he is doing, exactly what he is doing. This is excruciating in the most tremendous way.

“Give it all to me, I want you to fuck me so hard I struggle to walk,” I request as my hands grasp at his ass and pull him closer into me. He starts driving into me with a new power, while I start to moan under the pressure.

“That’s what you want, all of me,” he whispers in a dangerous tone as he continues to hold my hips and moves deeper with purpose; he speeds up, skin on skin, pure hunger, his unrelenting stamina with dominance and raw hunger in his eyes. “You’re gonna feel me for days, princess. Every. Single. Movement,” he promises, and his devotion becomes feral as he feels me start to climb. I watch his body, each muscle contracting in all the right places and as he looks in my eyes, I know what's coming next.

“Come for me now,” he says with a possessive tone in his voice.

“Make me,” I whisper, pleading with his eyes. I see his eyes turn almost sinister, and he slides a hand between our bodies, and his thumb finds me with unerring precision and deliberately circles with the pressure while driving into me harder.

“Look at me,” he commands, and as he speaks, he increases the tempo of absolutely everything, faster, deeper. Relentlessly. “I said come for me, princess,” he states as his thumb applies a tantalising level of pleasure, and I am totally ready to snap. “Now!” he says loudly and demanding. I can't help it anymore; I am too far gone, and I feel my orgasm travel through me like lightning sparking along all my nerves as I contract uncontrollably around him and push my hips towards him.

“Harlan,” I manage to say. I see he is close to his release as a guttural groan escapes him. His arms reach the side of my head, and his forehead reaches mine as he continues to move himself within me, with raw need until his moment passes.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath. He rolls off and moves in beside me, caressing my body. “Mine, mine forever.”

“I want that; I also want breakfast,” I say. I see him smile at the sound of my stomach rumbling. He kisses my forehead. And he rolls out of bed, pulling on dark sweatpants that hang low on his torso, so I can still see the tattoos and wonder why it turns me on more than it should.

“Alright, can’t have you passing out on an empty stomach. Stay here; I will bring it to you.”

I lie in the bed and listen to the array of noises coming from the kitchen; the cottage seems to have thin walls. I smell bacon and coffee. Then I see him at the door. “Eat, princess. You’re gonna need your strength.”

I like that sound in his voice that tells me the morning fun is far from over. I start to eat, and Harlan watches. It’s only now that I manage to have a good look at the room in the light. It is minimalistic. Except for the large wardrobe at the corner of my eye. My gaze lingers on it for a while, and I know that it gets locked, but where’s the key?

“This is a good breakfast, thank you,” I say in a bid to distract my thoughts from the wardrobe contents, yet I can see it on his face; he hasn’t bought it. He leans back in the chair with one leg stretched out. Relaxed. More relaxed than I have ever seen him to be, to be honest. I see him smile. His eyes have missed nothing.

“You’re a terrible liar, love,” he states with a dangerous edge in his voice. He stands and walks towards me; part of me feels like I should turn and run away. The morning sun catches his torso, and that just cemented the fact that my mind, body and soul don’t want to be anywhere else.

“That wardrobe stays locked; what is inside isn’t for you to worry about right now.”

He removes one plate from my lap and looks me dead in the eye. “You focus on finishing your breakfast and recovering; the key is mine, do you understand?” he asks. I smile and bite a piece of toast and marmalade. The marmalade drips down my chest. I see the struggle with restraint in his eyes.

“What if I am naughty?” I ask while swiping up the marmalade from my chest with my finger; it almost makes it to my mouth when, in a flash, he has my wrist in his hand. Pressing against the pulse point, I can feel him tighten his grip. Warning disguised as desire within his eyes. My heart races and I tingle.

“Naughty?” He leans closer to me “You think that you can tease me after last night, this morning?” He releases my hands, cups my chin and the danger in his eyes tells me that he is thinking about something naughty, with a smile on his face.

“Finish your breakfast, then we will see what happens to naughty girls,” he says calmly as I suck the marmalade off my finger slowly and watch his pupils dilate. I see his jaw clench; maybe that was too far, I think to myself. He stands abruptly. I notice his breathing is barely under control.

“You’re playing with fire, princess,” he says as he moves towards the window and his hands squeeze the frame until his knuckles go white. His eyes turn to me; they are dark and dangerous. “Eat your breakfast,” he says as he walks towards the wardrobe, takes the key from his sweats, unlocks it, and opens the door just a little. I catch a glimpse of restraints, leather, before it is closed again. “Because if you keep going, I will show you exactly what naughty behaviour deserves.” He sits back down in the chair, and there is a chill in the air. He is watching again. “Clock’s ticking,” he states. I eat what I can and wonder why the clock is ticking. Will our time run out? Will I be without him again? I feel my eyes filling up. Don’t cry, I tell myself with my fingers crossed. I hope he doesn’t notice, but I know I have no chance; he has been watching me like a man lost in a trance. His expression changes from predator to soft, and he comes to the bed and takes my face in his hands.

“Hey, look at me, princess,” he says as his thumb rubs away the tears that fall. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, and he sits on the edge of the bed. “Talk to me, the truth,” he demands softly.

Harlan waits patiently for me to start talking.

“I worry that this is all a dream. That something is going to happen, and you won’t want me anymore.” He places his hands through my hair. He stares into my eyes with an intensity that takes my breath away.

“A dream? Listen to me, I’ve wanted you for years. Two years of restraining myself when watching you. Because you were off limits, because of your brother, because you deserve so much better than me.” Harlan's fingers tilt my chin to his gaze “I’m not letting you go, not now, not ever,” .” He pauses “You think I do this a lot, bring people here to the cottage? You are mine. Stop doubting what’s happening between us; don’t run from it,” he says and kisses me on the forehead. Good God, how I love that. I feel a bit calmer and more comfortable with us, the grip on my hair making me feel things again. I look in his eyes; I know he knows what I am thinking. His lips curve into a smile, and he creates distance between us.

“Why is the clock ticking?” I question.

“The clock is ticking because your brother will start asking questions if you are gone too long,” he takes a breath,  “and I have some business to handle today that can’t wait. This reminds me of the darker side of him, a side I don’t know about. “First you need a shower, then we can talk about us and about what you are willing to accept,” he says firmly. I stand straight up out of the bed as naked as I was when I was in it. I watch him stay rooted to the spot. The obvious torture on his face is delightful.

“Where is the shower?” I ask, and I grab my dress and my knickers from the floor. He is as swift as anything and grabs the knickers from my hands in a swoop.

“These stay with me,” he says, placing them in his pocket. “The shower is through there,” he says as he points to the en suite. “Don’t take too long because we need to talk before we leave.” I walk towards him, and he stands still in front of me, not moving but watching every move I make, taking in all of my body until the hunger becomes unbearable, and he turns the other way. “Go on, princess.” I see his chest rise and fall like he is controlling himself, and it is more of a struggle this morning. I make my way to the shower.

“I will need a towel in half an hour,” I say, and I close the door. As I stand there with the warm water cascading over me like soft kisses, I remember the moments before. My hands wash the soapy suds all over my skin, and I can’t stop myself from placing my hand between my legs as thoughts of him run rampant through my mind. I’m so close to reaching my limit when I hear the door open, and there Harlan stands in a white shirt and dark trousers, holding the towel. Watching me intensely. I freeze, wishing for that sweet relief, and my gaze goes lower on him, and I spot his excitement. I watch his eyes track every inch of my skin, and a smile appears on his face.

“Caught you, princess,” he says in a voice that is low and laced with hunger. He moves closer to the shower. “I can see it all over your face. How close you were,” he states as he places the towels down on the chair by the window. “You want me to finish off what you started? Or are you going to behave and get dressed so we can talk?” I stare at him as the dark promises flow from his mouth, and I know we have barely scratched the surface of what this is between us. I know we have to talk, but I can’t think straight.

“Please finish me. I don’t think I can behave,” I ask. Harlan steps into the shower fully clothed, and in an instant his shirt becomes translucent, and I see every ripple of muscle stretched across the material. He pulls me close towards his body, and he holds my waist tight, and my head leans on his chest.

“Can’t behave, huh?” his voice is a low growl in my ear as one hand reaches down between my thighs, his fingers finding the exact spot I crave him to be. His movements, deliberate and precise, continue to bring the tension back into my body. “Then don’t.” His fingers work me closer to the edge. His free hand grabs a handful of my hair and tilts my head back so he can see my eyes. “Come for me right here, right now, princess,” he demands. I am lost to his words and what his fingers are doing. The wave crashes over me, and he watches with pleasure as I fall. I can barely manage to stand. I feel his strength lift me out of the shower, and he wraps me in a towel, then lays me on the bed. I am ready for the talk. I watch his shoulders drop with a weight so heavy I don’t know what is coming next.

“We need to talk about your brother, about us being careful and about what you are willing to risk,” he says as he reaches for my hands. “I need to know the truth from you.” I look him up and down.

“What about my brother? I would risk anything to be with you, and how careful do you want to be?” I ask, not knowing if I will like the answers that are coming next, but I know I have to listen.

“Your brother will lose his mind if he finds out about us. We’re talking about his best friend and sister. If he finds out somewhere else, that’s a betrayal not so easily forgiven,” he says calmly while looking deeply into my eyes. “We need to be careful because I have enemies, princess, who would hurt you to get to me, but that you would risk everything; that means this is more than just a moment,” he smiles.

“This is not just a moment for me; I want this to be forever.” I put on my dress, and I find his hands. “My brother is not my boss; who are the people that would hurt me?” I question. I hear him sigh.

“Rivals that would like nothing more than leverage against me. You think being your brother’s sister makes you safe; it doesn’t. That’s why I need you to know what you are signing up for, princess,” he says calmly, watching my expression the whole time. I take it all in. “My world is dangerous,” he says, rubbing my cheekbone, “but if you are mine, I will protect you no matter the cost.” His promises bring me comfort.

“I’m yours,” I say, and I watch his body tense up like he was expecting a different answer, as if this was all some fleeting fling.

“Then we do this the right way, and your brother finds out when we are ready; and we tell him together. You don’t mention any of this to your friends, other family. No one.” While removing his shirt and trousers right before me, he puts on fresh clothes. “I have to leave. There is a situation that can’t wait.”

I have a feeling this situation doesn’t require me to attend.

“I will be back before dark,” he promises.

“What am I going to do?” I ask even though I am going to try that wardrobe. I hope he hasn’t noticed. I watch him look me up and down.

“You can rest. Read. There are books on the shelf and the bookcase.” He looks at me with a smile. Harlan walks over to the wardrobe, and he unlocks it, taking something out. I don’t get to see what, but I do see leather, ropes and paperwork before he locks it again and glances back at me. “That stays locked. There are things in there that you are not yet ready to see. When you are ready, I will show you.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. It brings me security, comfort and devotion that he is there for me.

“Okay, I will read. I promise,” I whisper. I see him study my expression for a suggestion of betrayal, but it doesn’t come.

“I mean it, princess,” his tone lays down a boundary: “There is food in the kitchen; help yourself, and the phone next door only calls my number. If you need me, pick it up.” He goes to leave and looks back one last time. Instantly, I feel his lips on mine, deep, passionate, longing, burning and gone all too soon. “I’ll text when I am on my way back.” Then he is gone, the sound of his truck roaring to life and wheeling out of the driveway.

There is no real sound in the cottage apart from the clock ticking away on the mantle. I read for hours, and it just so happens it’s a book about erotica, so full of sex and filth; I have to admit it makes me crave more for myself. I lay the book down, and I make myself a bacon roll. As I walk back to the bedroom with the book and the roll, I trip over fresh air and bump right into the wardrobe. Immediately, I hear a buzzing sound, and I stand there not quite knowing what I should do. I wait for five minutes and then decide I need to make that phone call. It seems to take forever for him to pick up at the other end.

“There’s something wrong with the wardrobe; it started buzzing when I tripped into it,” I say quietly.

“The wardrobe? Don’t touch it again, princess; stay away from it. It’s a security system; it alerts me if someone has tampered with it. I’m twenty minutes away; I’ll be there soon. You eat your lunch,” he says calmly, and I hear the truck roar to life.

“I will do,” I say, and I hang up the phone. I gather up the book and sit by the fireplace, with the buzzing still going off in the background. I finish my roll as I get lost in the erotic darkness of a story when Harlan arrives swiftly at the door.  His black shirt is only partially buttoned, and I see fresh bruises on his collarbone and his hands are covered in marks. Strong evidence of the situation that couldn’t wait to be sorted. He notices the book in my hand, and I see the hunger in his eyes.

“You are reading filth, princess,” he says as he walks towards me, taking the book and glancing at the pages before setting it to the side; his touch on me is almost possessive. He kisses my forehead. “Missed you.” He pulls me up to meet his gaze.

“This filth was sitting in your bookcase, although I must say I had no idea what was in it,” I say in my defence. He sits on the edge of the bed and rolls his shoulders and winces a little. I see him glance at the wardrobe, which is quiet now.

“The book has been there for years; I just figured you would go for something lighter.” He starts to unbutton his shirt slowly, his moves deliberate and slow with aching. I watch intensely. “Come here, princess.” This is a command wrapped in exhaustion. His eyes are dark and focused. “Tell me what you think about when you read the filth,” he says. I feel flushed as I step in front of him. I take a bit of time to think about what I say. More so than normal, if I am honest.

“I have loads of thoughts on the story, but you are here covered in bruises and blood. Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, feeling his hand cupping my ass.

“Business is all it was, princess, nothing you need to worry about; the bruises will fade,” he says, hoping that his words will bring me comfort, but they don’t, and I begin to worry that little bit more. He pulls me between his thighs and pulls my dress up to examine my body, checking me over. “You’re what I want to talk about. What were you thinking when you read the book? Were you thinking of me?” I can tell by the expression in his face that he already knows the answer to that; he just wants to hear my voice say it. I hold his gaze, knowing there is no point in lying.

“I was thinking about you, especially on page twenty-seven,” I say, and I see a glint in his eye, the glint of recognition; his hands tighten on my body, and I see him lick his lips as a slow, dangerous smile stretches across his stunning face. He stands and leans in towards my neck.

“Page twenty-seven, huh?” his voice is a pleasant low rumble in my heart. “The one with the restraints?” he asks as his hand travels up my spine. “You want that princess for me to tie you up?” his voice has a dangerous edge to it, and he rubs his thumb along my jawline, his eyes dark with hunger. “I can make it so much better than what is written in that book,” he whispers in a low, provocative way. It takes my breath away.

“I want whatever you are willing to give me. If it’s better than the book, prove it,” I request. I am surprised that those words left my mouth. He stands and walks towards the wardrobe, unlocking it deliberately slowly. He pulls out leather cuffs.

“You trust me, princess?” he asks. His hands touch my face, and I see the marks telling me he is capable of violence, but I also know he is tender too.

“I do,” I say, and Harlan guides me to the bed.

“I’m going to have you ruin your knickers; I will edge until you beg to cum, but I will deny you release, and then thoroughly enjoy cleaning up my mess between your legs, making you shake and tremble before me, lost in complete splendour while I finally, slowly, guide you over the cliff you’ve been hanging on to for dear life.” The tone in his voice is different; I like it. My wrists are bound. It is now that I see the appetite in his eyes, and after ten seconds, a dirty dark smile spreads across his face. A whimper escapes me; it's not fear, I'm excited.

“Harlan,” I whisper. His smile widens.

“Now be a good girl and open your legs,” Harlan whispers.