Page 160 of At Her Pleasure

When he came back into her life, there’d been an energy that bound them. It had been growing ever since, and now she felt it intensify and spread throughout the room, as her sisters bore witness to what he was pledging. It also felt like it was just the two of them, in that crazy way the romances talked about.

She lifted the bracelet. He dropped to a knee and offered his arm. As she bent her head over the bracelet so she could attach the lock, she felt his breath on her ear, the tension vibrating through him. “I expected it to be made out of barbed wire,” he murmured.

She bit back a smile. “I have a cock ring made out of that. Thanks for reminding me.”

He huffed a chuckle across her neck, and she closed her eyes, tightening her hand on his arm. He sobered and his hand was on her shoulder. “Mistress.”

She was okay. She was remembering that long ago night when he’d destroyed her mother’s grave for her. How he’d tended Cissy’s headstone, then gone out into the world to make a difference. For people like her, Cissy and her siblings.

They knew she wasn’t demonstrative, and what she was about to do might put them all into shock, but that wasn’t what mattered.

She clicked the lock shut. Then she lifted her face, so close to his. “I love you, Mick,” she said. “All those things on the disk—loyalty, courage, trust and faith. Give me those, and I’ll give you the same.”

She fished the key out of the box, holding it out to him. “You hold onto this,” she said. “It will always be your choice to take it off or not.”

He shook his head. Leaning forward, he slid his hands under her hair and unclipped the skeleton necklace she wore. He took off the cuff key she’d put there that night in the motorhome, and replaced it with the bracelet one. He pocketed the other key before putting the necklace back on her, cupping her throat.

“My Mistress of the Hunt,” he said. “Whichever direction the chase takes, or how far away I am, it never changes that. I’m yours.”

She met his lips with her own, gripping his wrist as she did. The links of the chain bit into her palm, and into his wrist. Maybe she’d add a loop of barbed wire to the design.

When she drew back and took a deep breath, she saw the humor in his eyes, as if he’d read the thought. And anticipated what she’d do next.

“Enough of this shit,” she said. “Who wants cake for dessert?”

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