“You can’t fuck me,” she said as he kissed and bit her neck.

“I don’t recall asking your permission.”

“You’re fucking Kingsley tonight. You need to save your strength.”

By his strength, she meant, of course, his semen.

His eyebrow cocked skyward. “Are you implying I’m incapable of having you and Kingsley both in one night?”

“Well…” She shrugged. “You aren’t as young as you used to be.”

“You’re trying to make me punish you.”

“Is it working?”

He nodded.

“I’m in trouble?”

He nodded again.

“I’m in big trouble?”

“Enormous.”

Her dungeon down the hall had gotten lonely while Søren was gone. Nothing sadder to Nora than the sight of a St. Andrew’s Cross gathering dust.

Søren slid gracefully off the bed and to his feet. He crooked his finger at her. She smiled and followed him to her bedroom door. He opened the door and there was Gmork, in the hallway, growling deep and low in his throat. A solid black eighty-pound German Shepherd growling in a darkened hallway was almost as intimidating as Søren when you got him in the right mood.

“We can play in here,” he said.

“Gmork, aus.” She snapped her fingers, pointed, and Gmork obeyed, trotting down the stairs as if he hadn’t just threatened brutal death upon Søren.

“Will that work for me?” Søren asked.

“Try it.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at the door to the dungeon.

Nora growled at Søren. But she obeyed.

Chapter Fifteen

Nothing, Nora decided, was more fun than sitting in her pew at Mass, looking angelic and devout while recalling in vivid detail the erotic things the man sitting two seats down had done to her all afternoon…

It had begun with a flogging, of course. A good deep one that left her so sore that she winced every time her back touched the pew. And since Søren did have to save his “strength” for Kingsley that night, there’d been no sex. But Søren hadn’t left her hanging. He’d tortured her for nearly thirty minutes with a vibrator that he used on her, bringing her almost to orgasm five times before finally letting her come.

And come she had, and so hard she was still seeing white spots dancing in the air in front of her eyes. They’d showered together after which was lovely but also necessary. As her mother said, Always wear clean underwear to take communion.

Since moving down to New Orleans, Juliette had insisted the “family” go to Mass together. Nora had found it strange, at first, sitting with Søren in a pew on Sunday evenings, but she’d gotten used to it. Since mornings were so hard on Juliette these days, that meant the Sunday evening service, and they sat in the next to last pew since they could never count on Céleste’s attention span.

Søren took the far left seat, Céleste next to him and usually on his lap now that Juliette had no lap, Juliette next to Céleste and Nora next to Juliette.