Page 98 of Pandora's Pleasure

She wrapped a towel around herself and stood up and padded toward the villa.

When she reached the door, she glanced back at me with a sultry look, her hair blowing in the wind, her face flushed and lips pouty.

And here I was, captured completely in the snare of Pandora Bardot’s aura—my life interwoven with hers as though we’d always been destined to be together.

She’d left a trail of her flowery perfume in the air. My soul yearned for the endless ocean between us to disappear, wanting nothing more than to plunder the treasure that was her.

The fact she wanted this, too, felt surreal—like all my expectations for her as a sub might come true.

I headed inside after Pandora, finding her in the luxurious sitting room.

She sat on the edge of an armchair. “Where do you want me?”

“Talking is good,” I began.

Her brow knitted together.

“Look, when I introduced you to my dungeon, we were in a different place.”

She shot to her feet. “You’re talking about optics?”

I sighed. “I only want a submissive in the bedroom. Other than that, I want my partner to be equal in all things.”

“So only submissive in the dungeon?”

“Correct.”

“Okay, I like that.”

“Yes, but the fact is, should you becomemysubmissive, you’d fall deeply in love with me.”

“Maybe not.”

“You will, Pandora. It’s inevitable.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

My silence was her answer. Our future was never destined to happen.

She stormed past me.

I grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving. She pulled away, then came at me and shoved my chest.

My hand snapped to her throat and I walked her backwards towards the wall and pressed her against it, my lips close to hers, but not kissing her.

“Go to your room,” I said sternly.

She looked devastated.

“When you are willing to obey me you may come out,” I said. “And perhaps we’ll discuss this further.”

I released her and walked away.

Stirring from sleep, it took me a few seconds to orientate.That’s right. I’m in a cottage, miles from home…withhim.

And I’d just woken up from an afternoon nap, after being scolded by Damien as if I were a schoolgirl. I wiped my mouth, hoping he hadn’t seen me like this—my makeup smudged and my hair a tangled mess.

I wanted Damien, but staying with him meant I’d be willingly closing the cage on my life. He’d all but admitted he didn’t love me, that we were over in every sense other than a pretend show for the public.