Page 19 of The Auction

“No, I don’t. But I trust him. And he trusts you. After all, I’m not submitting to you this week. I’m submitting to him.”

“Answer this question—how long did you know him before he beat you the first time?” Daniel asked.

Eleanor groaned melodramatically.

“Yes, I forgot,” he said. “You don’t want to talk about him.”

She nodded as she sat up.

“Can you at least answer me in sign language?”

Eleanor reached out and took the deck of cards from him. She flipped through the cards and found the Five of Clubs.

“Five years?” Daniel asked and she nodded again. “Five years. Not a few days,” he said pointedly. “So he waited five years not only to hit you, but to have sex with you. And you’re ready for that with me after a few days?”

She nodded eagerly.

Daniel looked down at the cards scattered about. “Are you really happy with him?” he asked, not quite sure where that question came from.

She sighed heavily as if she’d been asked and had answered that question a thousand times before. “Everyone thinks because he’s so quiet and serious…”

“And a sadist,” he reminded her.

“Everyone thinks he’s this.” She held up the King of Clubs who grasped a sword in each hand. “But he isn’t. Not with me. With me he’s…”

She dug through all the cards until she had a full suit.

On the floor between them she arranged the cards.

All hearts.

“And who are you?” Daniel swallowed hard, her devotion to her owner a painful reminder of how close he and Maggie had been. Would he ever have that again? “Her?”

He picked up the Queen of Hearts.

“Oh, no.” She reached past him and grabbed the card box. “This is me.”

She held up the Joker.

“Is that because you’re funny or because you’re Gotham’s worst nightmare?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. In the meantime, how about a little game of…”

She picked up two cards. One a Six of Clubs, the other a Nine of Spades.

Daniel glared at her. “Now Iamgoing to beat you.”

He hadn’t been joking. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to her feet. In less than a minute, he had her in the bedroom with her back pressed to the bedpost. He devoured her mouth, her soft lips even as his fingers dug into her hips. With a ruthless shove he pushed her onto the floor. He didn’t even have to give her the order. She opened his pants and took him deep in her mouth.

He and Maggie had been lovers for a month before he let himself slap her during sex. But her reaction had been so intensely erotic that the very next day he’d invested in an arsenal ofS&Mgear, an arsenal ofS&Mgear that had touched no one’s skin but Maggie’s. For the first time since her death, he would use it on someone else.

Before he came, he pulled away and dragged Eleanor up to her feet again. He threw open a cabinet in his bedroom where he and Maggie stored the gear and took out a flogger, bondage cuffs, and snap hooks. He returned to the bed, wrenched Eleanor’s wrists behind her back and buckled the cuffs on.

“Tell me your safe word,” he demanded.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said and he felt her body go slack as she surrendered herself into his hands. “You won’t hear it.”

He’d almost laughed out loud then. “That tough, are you?”

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