“Shh,” I soothe, leaning down to kiss her. Her lips taste salty from her tears, and a tiny flame of arousal reignites within me. My cock, now flaccid, twitches, her pain and tears turning me on despite my extreme satiation. I’m not up for round two quite yet, though, and instead of deepening the kiss, I reluctantly lift my head and gaze down at her.

She stares up at me, her eyes slightly unfocused, and I know she’s still recovering from the intensity of the experience I put her through. In this moment, she’s utterly defenseless, both mind and body unshielded, and I use her weakened state to press my advantage. “Tell me how you feel now,” I murmur, raising one hand to tenderly caress her jaw. “Tell me, baby.”

She closes her eyes, and I see a single tear roll down her cheek. “I feel… empty and full at the same time, destroyed, yet replenished,” she whispers, her words barely audible. “I feel like you shredded me into pieces and then remade those pieces into something else, something that’s no longer me… something that belongs to you…”

“Yes.” I absorb her words hungrily. “And what else?”

She opens her eyes, meeting my gaze, and I see a strange sort of hopelessness etched into her face. “And I love you,” she says quietly. “I love you even though I see you for what you are—even though I know what you’re doing to me. I love you because I’m no longer capable of not loving you… because you’re now part of me, for better or for worse.”

I hold her gaze, the dark empty corners of my soul sucking in her words like a desert plant takes in water. Her love may not be freely given, but it’s mine. It will always be mine. “And you are part of me, Nora,” I admit, my voice low and unusually hoarse. This is the closest I can come to telling her how much she means to me, how deep my longing for her runs. “I hope you know that, my pet.”

And before she can respond, I kiss her again, then slide my arms under her body, pick her up, and carry her to the bathroom to wash up.

19

Nora

The week before Julian’s departure is bittersweet. I still have not entirely forgiven him for the forced tracker implants—or for the bracelet embedded with yet another tracker he made me start wearing a couple of days later. Nevertheless, ever since Julian’s words that evening, I’ve been feeling infinitely better.

I know what he said is not exactly a declaration of undying love, but from a man like Julian, it might as well be. Ana is right: Julian lost everyone who has ever mattered to him. Everyone except me, that is. The fact that he clings to me with such brutal possessiveness may be overwhelming at times, but it’s also an indication of his feelings.

His love for me is wrong and perverse in many ways, but it’s no less real because of that.