And his training is working. I go into his arms willingly now, craving that high I often get from a particularly brutal session. Julian tells me that I’m a natural submissive with latent masochistic tendencies. I don’t know if I believe him—I know that I certainly don’t want to believe him—but I can’t deny that his peculiar brand of lovemaking resonates with me on some level. Toys, whips, canes—he’s used them all, and I have invariably found pleasure in some part of what he was doing.

Of course, he’s not always sadistic. Sometimes he’s almost sweet, massaging me all over, kissing me until I melt, and then making love to me when I’m nearly out of my mind with need. On days like that, I don’t want to leave the island. All I want is for Julian to keep holding me, caressing me… loving me, in whichever way he can.

Perhaps that is the most disturbing part of it all—the fact that I now crave my captor’s love. I don’t even know if he’s capable of that emotion, but I can’t help needing it from him. He wants me, I know that, but it’s not enough. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost my hatred for him, and I don’t even know how or when it happened. I still resent my captivity, but those feelings are now separate from the way I feel about Julian.

Instead of dreading his visits to the island, I now eagerly await them. His business keeps him away more than I like, and I begin to understand how pets feel, waiting for their owner to come home from work.

“Why can’t you conduct more of your business from here?” I ask him one day, after we wake up together in the morning. He always sleeps with me now. He likes holding me during the night; it helps him with his nightmares.

“I do as much remotely as I can. Why, do you want me here, my pet?” His gaze is coolly mocking as he turns his head to look at me. He doesn’t like it when I question him about his business. It’s a part of his life that he seems to want to keep separate. In general, I get the sense that he’s sheltering me and Beth from some of the uglier parts of his world. Beth is fully aware of what Julian does, of course, but I don’t know if she knows much more about arms dealing than I do.

“Yes,” I tell him honestly. “I want you here.” It’s pointless to pretend otherwise; Julian knows exactly how I feel. He’s very good at reading me—and manipulating me. I have no doubt that he’s enjoying my growing attachment to him and likely doing his best to facilitate it.

Sure enough, at my admission, his lips curve in a sensual smile. “All right, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll try to be here more.” And reaching for me, he brings me toward him for a kiss that makes me dissolve in his embrace.