Breathless

by Maya Banks

  Zach heard the meaning behind Søren’s words. “Nora is not a monster. She’s not perfect obviously. But she’s a good person, and to call her a monster is ridiculous.”

  “You know her that well, do you?” Søren asked, turning to face him full-on. “Before tonight she scared you, didn’t she? Her fearlessness, her brazenness, I’m sure it’s terrifying at first. Foreign to those who lead the proverbial life of quiet desperation as I imagine you do. She scared you with the sheer force of her life and being. But now you look around and think her courage is merely a byproduct of her damage. You imagine I abused her, changed her. And you would save her, as Wesley imagines he can? You would be her knight in shining armor? Yes, before you feared her and now you pity her. I assure you, Zachary, you were right the first time.”

  * * *

  This was her favorite part.

  Nora ordered Michael to lie on his back in the middle of the bed. She pulled out from under the bed a silver spreader bar. She laid the bar, a length of rope and a pair of scissors on the bed next to Michael’s hip. She lit three candles and let them burn on the table next to the bed.

  “Don’t be scared, angel,” she said. “You are completely safe here. You have your safe word. You can stop this at any time. You don’t have to do anything but lie there and take what I give you. Do you understand?”

  Michael eyed the scissors warily. He took a deep breath.

  “Yes, mistress. I understand.”

  Nora took two snap hooks and locked Michael’s ankles to each end of the bar. She threaded rope through the buckle on his ankle cuffs, tied the cuff to the bedpost and neatly snipped off the excess rope. She came to the head of the bed and took each of Michael’s wrists in her hands. She spread him out like an X and tied him down. He could move neither his hands nor his feet. She bent and bit the soft skin above his wrist—a shiver passed through his body. His eyes looked to the ceiling and stared placidly at nothing. Nora knew that look, had worn it herself a thousand nights in Søren’s bed.

  “Michael, stay with me.”

  “I’m here.” His eyes focused again on her face. She knew how easy it was to disappear into the moment. But she wanted him to remember it, to be with her every step of the way.

  “Good boy. How do you feel?”

  Michael tugged on his bonds but not in a struggle. He seemed simply to take pleasure in their existence.

  “Free,” he said and she knew exactly what he meant.

  Nora slipped off the bed and unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. She crawled back onto the bed and sat next to Michael’s hips. She ran her hands over his skin…smooth and cool to the touch. She caressed his face, stroked his arms and lingered along his inner thighs.

  Finally, when it seemed he could wait no longer, she straddled his hips, took him in her hand and guided him inside her.

  Michael arched underneath her as she wrapped herself around him. She watched as his eyes closed in shocked wonder and opened again darkened with knowledge. He gasped as she pushed and clenched her muscles tight around him. She bent over, dipping her mouth to his, his lips eager and artless and tasting of snow. She remembered the last kiss Søren gave her before he penetrated her the first time. Such pleasure coupled with such pain…the pain, like the flash of a camera, rendering the moment forever fixed in her mind. Michael would remember this moment, too. She would make sure of it.

  She pushed against him again and let herself enjoy his body inside hers. Closing her eyes for a moment, she imagined someone else under her, inside her, someone with blond hair instead of black, someone with brown eyes instead of silver…Nora felt her climax start to build and she pushed it back and opened her eyes.

  Rising up, she reached for the candle burning beside the bed. She brought it to her carefully, not letting any of the wax drop. Michael’s eyes followed the glowing wick as Nora held it over the center of his panting chest.

  “And now how do you feel?” she asked, rocking her hips to evoke another gasp.

  Michael turned his gaze from the candle to her face. He wore an expression of fearful trust, of trusting fear.

  “Safe,” he said.

  Nora smiled down at him and let the scalding wax fall.

  * * *

  Søren doused Nora’s oil lamp and shut the door behind them. Zach followed Nora’s priest down another set of stairs and hallways. He stopped in front of one of the doors but did not move to open it. They faced each other across an invisible threshold.

  “Why did you bring me down here?” Zach asked.

  “I thought you needed to see what Eleanor is. You thought you knew her until tonight.”

  “I do know her.”

  “No, you merely think you know her. It’s one of her best tricks. She flirts, she teases, she confesses everything but reveals nothing. It’s the oldest magician’s trick—smoke and mirrors, misdirection. You are absolutely certain she’s here—” Søren snapped his fingers at Zach’s right ear “—when all the while she’s right over here.”

  Zach looked at Søren’s right hand and saw the priest holding up his wallet.

  “Nice trick.” Zach snatched his wallet and shoved it back into his pocket. “But I think I know Nora better than that.”

  “Do you really? Tell me, what do you think her darkest secret is?”

  “You,” Zach answered. “She was once lovers with a Catholic priest. I know that now and I couldn’t care less.”

  “Me? Her darkest secret? Hardly. She keeps me a secret for my sake, not hers.”

  “We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of. Everyone has a past.”

  “Eleanor has a past, yes. But she has a present, too.”

  Zach took a step forward and with more courage than he knew he had within him stared Nora’s priest down.

  “You’re jealous,” Zach said.

  “Am I?” The idea seemed to amuse him.

  “Yes, because she’s found a life outside of you and away from here. She told me you want her back. But she won’t come back. She loved you once. But now you’re just a game she’s tired of playing.”

  “I assure you the game has only begun.”

  Zach didn’t back down.

  “This game you’re playing with me is over. Show me anything you want to show me. Tell me all the horror stories you’ve got. But I know what Nora Sutherlin is.”

  “Do you? What is she?”

  “A writer.”

  “Yes, she certainly is. And a very talented one. But a writer is not all she is, Zachary.”

  “I don’t care about her private life. Whatever you say, she’s no monster.”

  Søren sighed and Zach saw something unexpected in the man’s eyes, something like sympathy.

  “No, you are right. She is no monster,” Søren said, turning his attention to the door. Zach followed the priest’s gaze. Unlike all the others the knob on this door was painted white and from it hung a familiar-looking riding crop—black with white braiding. And from within the room came a faint sound, a whimper of pain both poignant and plaintive like the cry of a child. Zach found Søren’s eyes on him. “But she is no saint, either.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Zach heaved a sigh of relief when they returned to the bar at the end of his tour of the 8th Circle. Søren led him to a table elevated on a platform at the corner of the room farthest from the balcony. Clearly it was the best table in the house and reserved for Søren alone. When he and Zach took their seats, a small army of attendant
s, Griffin included, rushed the table to serve them.

  “Care for a drink?” Søren asked as he reached out to casually stroke the hair and collared neck of the lovely young woman who waited at his feet.

  “I’m afraid I’ve reached my two drink maximum.”

  Søren gave him a slight smile. “I do have some sway here.”

  “Another G&T.”

  “Of course.” Søren leaned forward and the young woman rose up on her knees. He cupped his hand around her face and whispered something in her ear. She blushed, smiled and whispered something in reply. Søren paused and seemed to consider her words. He turned his head, whispered again and the girl rose and hurried to the bar.

  “May I ask what that was about?”

  “Simply giving her our drink order.” Søren snapped his fingers at Griffin and pointed to the floor. Immediately Griffin went down on his hands and knees at Søren’s feet displaying for them a perfectly flat back.

  “Giving her our drink order required hushed whispering?” Zach asked.

  “Not at all,” Søren said with dark amusement glimmering in his steel-colored eyes. “But even a drink order can be an intimate act when done properly.” He raised his legs, resting his feet on Griffin’s back. The girl returned with Zach’s gin and tonic and a glass of red wine for the priest. Søren took the glass from her hand and pressed a kiss inside her palm. After another brief exchange of whispers, the girl floated off. Zach raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Just saying a simple thank-you,” Søren explained.

  Zach glanced down as Griffin looked up at him and winked. He started to argue with Søren—nothing about him seemed remotely simple—but at that moment Nora entered the bar through the side door and strode toward their table.

  Rarely in his life had Zach been so glad to see someone. He ran his eyes up and down her—she seemed completely unharmed by whatever activity had distracted her for the past hour. She gave Søren the most perfunctory of curtsies and stepped onto the platform, ignoring Griffin’s attempts to bite her ankles. She collapsed dramatically onto Zach’s lap and Zach wrapped an arm around her waist. Such possessive alpha male maneuvers were never his style, but he couldn’t resist showing Søren that he and Nora weren’t completely in his thrall.

  “Where have you been, my dear?” Zach wanted to see how Søren would react to outright flirtation. He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder.

  “Sorry that took so long.” Nora took a quick drink of Zach’s gin and tonic. “Had to do a favor for a friend.”

  Zach breathed in and recognized a sweet and heady scent on her skin—a familiar scent that Grace’s skin had carried after they’d made love. She hadn’t been with Søren, he knew. Or Griffin…Zach remembered the lingerie in his pocket and wondered if she’d run off with another woman.

  “Quite all right, Eleanor.” Søren dipped his middle finger into his wine and delicately ran the wet tip slowly around the rim of the glass. “I kept your guest entertained in your absence.”

  Nora shot Griffin a dirty look, but Griffin only shrugged a helpless apology from the floor.

  “Well, Zach and I both had a long night then,” she said to Søren. Leaning back against Zach’s chest, she asked, “You ready to go?”

  “Absolutely,” Zach said and stared at Søren. Zach saw no jealousy in Søren’s eyes, but no mercy, either. Zach realized he could never win in a game with this man, especially not on his territory.

  “With your permission, sir,” she said to Søren.

  “Of course. I will show you out.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Zach stood by Nora and took her hand. She moved her fingers in his grip, wrapping them tightly around his thumb.

  “I insist,” Søren said. Nora squeezed Zach’s hand in a warning. Apparently Søren was not to be denied.

  Søren stepped to the floor and set his glass of wine on Griffin’s back, balancing it on the flat plane between his shoulder blades. “Stay,” Søren ordered Griffin who stayed stiff and motionless on the floor. Søren offered Nora his arm and Zach was pleased to feel her reluctance to let him go.

  Søren and Nora led as Zach followed closely behind. They went back down the elevator and across the pit where the play had grown louder as more Circle denizens had joined in. Zach expected Søren to leave them at the elevator, but the priest entered it with them, taking a key and inserting it under the down button. The doors closed and the elevator ascended. The door opened onto the first entry hallway and Zach stepped out.

  “Excuse us, Zachary,” Søren said, still inside the elevator. “I need another word with Eleanor.”

  Søren flicked his wrist and the doors closed once more leaving Zach alone in the empty hall.

  * * *

  “Søren, let me out,” Nora demanded. “Zach and I want to get home.”

  “He can wait. We have things to discuss.”

  “We have nothing to discuss.”

  “Not even Michael?”

  Nora sighed. There was no point in fighting Søren.

  “Yes, of course. Michael was lovely. Thank you very much.”

  “You are certainly welcome. I take it Michael is no longer a virgin?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Søren nodded. “How funny.”

  “What is?” Nora said, exasperated.

  “Tonight you took the virginity of a boy you’ve never met…and yet you still think you can keep Wesley safe from you.”

  “It’s different. Michael’s obviously one of us. Wes is vanilla. Michael’s a sub. Michael was born—”

  “Michael was born fifteen years ago.”

  Nora could only gape at him.

  “You gave me an underage boy for our anniversary?” she breathed in shock.

  Søren smiled and moved closer to her. She backed into the farthest corner of the elevator.

  “Yes, I did.” He stroked her face with the back of his hand. “Which you would have known had you asked. But I knew you wouldn’t ask. And so tell me again how safe Wesley is with you.”

  “You bastard.” She tried to turn her face away from his hand but she had nowhere to go. “God, you’ll do anything to make a point, won’t you?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t for that reason alone. I had to give him some incentive to stay alive.”

  “And I was the incentive?”

  Søren brushed her hair with the back of his hand. “You have kept me alive all these years.”

  Nora shook her head, moved away from his hand.

  “I will do whatever I can to protect you even if I’m only protecting you from yourself. You are a creature of appetite. You take what you desire without thought or remorse. And that is how God created you and it is much of why I love you. But do not stand there and claim to be otherwise. Not with me. I know you. You must make a choice, little one—bring Wesley into this world with you or let him go.”

  “I won’t do either. And he stays with me for as long as he wants to.”

  Søren stared her down with a look of pure skepticism.

  “Fine,” she said. “I admit it. I can’t be trusted with him. But it doesn’t matter because he can be trusted with me.”

  “Wesley…you don’t even know him. The things he has kept from you—”

  “Wes is perfect the way he is. I don’t care if he has secrets. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. I won’t ask him to change.”

  Søren turned away from her.

  “Of course you won’t. God forbid you
allow anyone to make any kind of sacrifice for you. Because if Wesley changed for you, then you would be indebted to him. And you won’t allow that. You are so in love with your own profligate freedom that you refuse to even be grateful to another person lest you be weighed down by the smallest shred of guilt or obligation.” Søren faced her again. “Your obsession with your own liberty is why Wesley is still a virgin and I am still a priest.”

  Nora raised her hands to her face. “Don’t bring that up. Please.”

  “I offered to leave the priesthood for you and instead you left me.”

  “You never wanted to leave,” Nora said, facing him angrily. “You just wanted to keep me any way you could. I couldn’t let you give up your life for me.”

  Nora tried to pull away as Søren reached out for her hands. But his grip proved too strong. He moved her hands away from her face and looked at her.

  “You are now and always my life.” His voice was so soft and true that she couldn’t even look back at him.

  “You love being a priest. The priesthood is a sacrament. You can’t quit it. It’s who you are.”

  “Yes, I love it. Yes, it’s who I am. And yes, I was willing to give it up so we could be together. But you couldn’t allow that.”

  “I still won’t. And I won’t turn Wes into something he doesn’t want to be, either. You say it’s because I refuse to be indebted to anyone. I say it’s because I won’t let you two fuck up your lives for me.”

  “And we have no say in this?”

  Nora finally found the courage to meet his eyes. Even after five years, no, eighteen years, she still couldn’t look at his face without falling in love with him even more. Time sharpened the edge of her love for him. It cut into her more and more with each passing year.

  “No,” she said. “You don’t. And neither does Wes. Whatever he wants to do or be, that’s his decision. I don’t own him. And you don’t own me.”