Jaston climbed the stairs behind her like a marked man. Each step was a warning of what was to come—and his body, far from hesitating, begged for more. Hellen walked ahead, hips swaying, naked, assured, as if she knew every inch of her was a sentence for him. An obscene promise.

As soon as they entered the room, she closed the door slowly. The dry click of the latch seemed to seal something inside. He stood still, waiting.

"Lie on the bed. On your back," she ordered, without needing to ...