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sounded on the door.
    The reality of his arrival trembled through me. The idea that he wanted my trust was absurd. It didn’t matter how much I warred with myself—I would always remember the brutality of his hands. I took a deep breath and opened the door. He wore a dark suit, black on smoke gray, and he’d left the tie at home. He’d unfastened the top two buttons of his collar. I stumbled back a little. He looked good enough to eat, though taking a bite of that would likely poison me.
    His wandering gaze heated, and I was certain he’d already undressed me in his head. “Are you ready to go?”
    With a nod, I picked up the overnight bag I’d left by the door. “Where are we going?”
    “You’ll see.” He grabbed my bag, and I shut and locked the door. Moments later we were in his car speeding down the highway, and it became apparent that we were headed to the airport.
    “You said we weren’t going far.”
    “We’re not. It’s only a two-hour flight on my jet. I can have you home in no time if need be.”
    I wasn’t happy about this development, but I let it go. One more weekend, and it would be over. I was prepared to take whatever the next two days gave me. He parked next to a sleek jet where a man materialized next to the car and pulled our bags from the trunk. Gage placed his hand on the small of my back as we climbed the steps. His touch had a possessive connotation, and when he clamped his fingers around my side, I resisted the urge to squirm out of reach.
    The inside of the plane was bigger than it appeared from the outside. I’d expected a few seats and little more. I should’ve known better. The inside was just as luxurious as everything else he owned. Every detail testified of money and power; the large flat screen television on the wall, the abstract pieces of art, the plush rug under our feet. He ushered me to the cream leather couch that spanned one side.
    “Straddle me,” he demanded, pulling me onto his lap and denying me the chance to object. He slid his hands under my dress and grabbed my ass, bringing me against his erection. My reaction was instantaneous. A flood of warmth crashed at my center, and I struggled to catch my breath through lips that parted of their own volition. His hands kneaded my bottom. “You feel that?” Awareness zinged between us as he watched me. “We connect here, Kayla.”
    “It’s just sex.” My voice sounded weak, and I despised myself for it, especially since my body rocked against his.
    “No, you’re not the type of woman who engages in ‘just sex’ arrangements.” He brought his hands up and spanned my ribcage. “The fact that you’re sitting here hot for my cock after everything I’ve done”—he circled my nipples with his thumbs—“turning to liquid at my touch, gives you away. You can have ‘just sex’ with anyone. There’s more here between us.”
    I couldn’t look at him anymore. I closed my eyes, but I still felt his hands on me, still felt him hard and hot underneath me.
    “I could fuck you right now, and you’d still beg for more.” He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in. “You’re just as addicted to me as I am you.” Pressing his mouth to mine, his tongue swept inside, and I wondered what he was waiting for.
    “Do it, Gage.” I moaned against his lips. Later I’d beat myself up for this. Later I’d walk away.
    “No. Just because you’re not my slave anymore, that doesn’t mean you call the shots.” He palmed my ass and squeezed hard. “And I’m still Master to you in the bedroom.” His tone left no room for argument. Before I could argue with him anyway, he was kissing me again. He freed my hair from my up-do, and the heavy locks fell in waves around his face.
    I curled my fingers in the silk of his hair, but he grabbed my hands and held them behind my back, clenched together in his strong fist. His other hand held me to him so I couldn’t pull out of the kiss until he allowed it. And I didn’t