He unbuttoned his jeans slowly as she lay there watching him.

“Stop being such a tease,” she said, a tired smile crossing her face.

“I can’t imagine to what you are referring...” he said, dropping his hands.

Nora rolled up onto her hands and knees and crawled across the bed to him.

“I am referring,” she said as she took his wrists in her hands, raised his arms and yanked his shirt off, “to the fact that you are stalling, sir. You know I’m dying here for you.”

“Dying? Should I say the Last Rites?”

“I’ll need them if you don’t get naked and get your cock inside me soon.”

“I was thinking of getting a glass of wine first.”

“I hate you.”

Søren gave her a sharp slap on her bottom.

“You’ll pay for that, too, Little One.”

“Run up my tab,” she said, dropping his shirt to the floor. She opened his pants all the way and stroked him. “Sex with you is worth any price I have to pay, sir.”

Either her touch or her words convinced him. Either or both, she didn’t care. All that mattered was that the rest of his clothes seemingly disappeared and she had him on top of her and inside her again.

Their mouths met and their tongues mingled. With each thrust into her, her hips rose up to meet him. Søren grasped her wrists and pinned her hands into the bed. The tension mounted in her stomach and she begged permission to come. He granted it and her body released the tension with a hundred inner flutters of her vagina all around his incredible hardness. After coming she could completely relax. She threw her legs open as wide as possible, inviting Søren deeper into her body.

“You’re mine...” he whispered in her ear. “Whether you’ll admit it or not, you’re still mine.”

She closed her eyes and said nothing. To deny him would be a lie. To agree would be to admit defeat. It didn’t matter that she still loved him, that she still missed him. She couldn’t go back to him, couldn’t return to her old life at his feet, obeying his orders, hiding in his shadow, living a lie and counting the days until he got caught and excommunicated.

I am yours... She spoke the words only inside her head.

With his mouth on her throat and his fingers clasped around her forearms, Søren came with a shudder and a soft exhalation. She closed her eyes as he poured into her.

Soon she lay across his chest, her ear over his heart. He caressed her back with gentle strokes of his hand from her neck to her hip, gentle strokes that soothed her burning skin and yet made her ache even more.

“I don’t believe you,” he said as she pressed a few reverent kisses onto his collarbone, into the hollow of his throat.

“Believe what?”

“That you didn’t come here to talk. I know you didn’t come here just for sex, as much as I might flatter myself that my body tempts you that much.”