“Are you fantasizing?” Nora asked, pulsing her hand against his neck.

“Yes and no. It’s just images right now.”

“Tell me.”

“You...naked.”

“Good image.”

“And on top of me. I love being tied down,” Lance confessed, his hand moving faster on himself.

“You look amazing in leather wrist and ankle cuffs. I bet with your body you’d look incredible in a black leather chest harness. Maybe some armbands for those amazing biceps of yours.”

“I’m fantasizing about you fucking me, and you’re fantasizing about dressing me up?”

“It’s a girl thing. You have a great body. I’d love to show it off to the world. Or at least my kinky little corner of it.”

“Gorgeous body? You’ve forgotten the scars.”

“Scars are sexy. Scars mean you’ve lived.”

Nora felt Lance’s pulse beating against her hand, growing harder every second.

“What else do you see, Lance?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

“A future with you. Maybe.”

Nora swallowed and whispered, “Big maybe. Now come for me.”

With a soft gasp Lance came, semen shooting out and landing on his stomach.

“God, I needed that,” he said, his body relaxing deep into the couch.

“I could tell.”

“And I think I need a tissue. Maybe three...” He glanced down at the semen decorating his stomach and laughed. She adored him for the laugh because it meant he had no shame, no embarrassment about his body, about his sexuality. Many of her submissive clients were ashamed, embarrassed, and scared to come out of the closet. Not Lance. Not at all.

“Let me,” she said, dipping her head. With a quick flick of her tongue she lapped up a small patch of semen. Lance groaned as he slid a hand into her hair.

“You’re a sadist, Mistress Nora.”

She looked up at him with a wicked grin on her face.

“You’re like the perfect male submissive. How did that happen? I want twelve of you.”

Lance gave her a half-smile. “I have this drive to be perfect at things,” he said. “Always have. I was the five-year-old kid who made Lego houses you could live in. I wanted to be the perfect Navy SEAL, and I was until I got wounded. I tried to be the perfect husband and then the perfect father. That blew up in my face. Now, at least I can be the perfect sub. With you anyway. With you and for you, Mistress.”

Nora grabbed a box of tissues off the end table.

“Here. Clean up. We’ll go get some lunch or something. If we don’t get you out of this house soon, I won’t be held accountable for the things I do to you.”

She slid across him and headed to her bathroom. Halfway there she heard the klaxon tone of her hotline phone blaring from her kitchen. She took a detour and grabbed the phone.

“Ça va?” Nora asked as she answered the phone. “Any news?”

“Oui,” Kingsley said. “Bad news first.”

“What’s the bad news?”