“And it will be harder tomorrow,” he continued. “I’ve had the scent of you in my head all day, and I’ve grown amazingly desensitized. If I’m away from you for any length of time, I’ll have to start over again. Not quite from scratch, though, I think.” “Don’t go away, then,” I responded, unable to hide the longing in my voice. “That suits me,” he replied, his face relaxing into a gentle smile. “Bring on the shackles—I’m your prisoner.”
