Swallowing, I had to remind myself I wasn’t in heat for a second because the urge to reach down into his pants was so strong. “I mean, is there a secret dungeon in the mansion I don’t know about? Am I going to be in your bedroom and find whips and chains?” I laughed. “Not that it’s a deal breaker, I’m just curious. I think it’s probably something we would have talked about if my heat hadn’t come on so quickly.”

“Yes, it is something we would have talked about. And no,” he chuckled. “I don’t have a dungeon or whips or chains. Well, that’s not strictly true. I do have some handcuffs and rope. I can’t remember the last time I used them, though. Does it bother you?”

“Nope. In case it wasn’t exquisitely clear, I loved it. It wasn’t just the heat. I’ve just never done anything like that.”

Lifting a hand, he tugged the towel off my hair and ran his fingers through the damp strands. “I love being able to create a space safe enough to let go and trust. And just to reassure you, I haven’t done it often.”

My cheeks flushed. He answered my worries before I could even voice them. I didn’t want him to stop, and I felt silly for worrying about anyone else after they spent four days locked in a room while I begged them to fuck me. “I’m sorry I’m so…” I sighed. “Whatever the hell you want to call it.”

He kissed me, catching my mouth with his. Fresh mint mixed with his ocean-like scent. “I don’t want to call it anything, sweetheart. There’s nothing wrong with you, and certainly nothing you need to apologize for.”

I turned my head to lean on his shoulder. “Okay.”

Wrapping his arms around me fully, he held me quietly for a few minutes. It was nice to just rest, wrapped in his scent and the softest robe on planet earth.

“If you ever want to tell me about it,” he said softly. “I’m happy to hear it.”

“Not yet.”

“Fair enough.” A hand stroked down my spine. “As for the other thing. I like to be in control, but it doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. It’s not a requirement.”

I shook my head against his shoulder. “I like it. It’s hard for me to stop thinking sometimes, and I like not having to worry.”

Luke laughed once. “You do worry a lot, little Omega.” He pulled back and pressed his thumb to the crease between my eyes, smoothing out the worry line there. “But I’d like to explore it with you. If there’s ever anything I do—hell, that any of us do—that makes you uncomfortable, tell us. This is about finding what works for all of us.”