Page 28 of The Shape of Night

“Yes, I have.”

“Men with whom you have sinned.”

My answer is barely a whisper. “Yes.”

“Sins for which you have not yet atoned.” His hand, which had so gently cupped my face, suddenly tightens on my jaw. I stare straight into his eyes. He knows. Somehow he has looked into my soul and has seen my guilt. My shame.

“I know what torments you, Ava. And I know what you desire. Will you submit?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Say it.” He leans closer. “Say you will submit.”

My voice is barely audible. “I will submit.”

“And you know who I am.”

“Jeremiah Brodie.”

“I am the ship’s master. I command. You obey.”

“What if I choose not to?”

“Then I will bide my time and wait for a woman more suited to my attentions. And you will depart this house.” Already I feel his touch melting away, see his face dissolving into shadow.

“Please,” I call out. “Don’t leave me!”

“You must agree.”

“I do.”

“To submit?”

“Yes.”

“To obey?”

“Yes.”

“Even if there is pain?”

At this I go silent. “How much pain?” I whisper.

“Enough to make your pleasure all the sweeter.”

He strokes my breast and his caress is warm and gentle. I sigh and my head rolls back. I crave more, so much more. He traps my nipple and my knees go weak as the unexpected pain blooms into pleasure.

“When you are ready,” he whispers, “I will be here.”

I open my eyes, and he is gone.

I stand alone in my room, shaking, my legs unsteady. My breast tingles, the nipple still tender from his assault. I am wet, so wet with desire that I feel moisture trickle down my thigh. My body aches to be filled, to be claimed, but he has abandoned me.

Or was he ever really here?

Eleven

The next morning, I awaken with a fever.

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