Disclaimer: Some concepts and characters in this story belong to ABC TV, specifically, the TV series Prey. This work was written without their permission or knowledge. No disrespect is intended to either the writers or actors. The character of Sarah Hillar belongs to me.

This piece has a high NC-17 rating for M/F sexual content. There is no violence, but there is coercion and a *small* amount of bondage. Be warned and read at your own risk.

Comments to Tere Matthews

NC17-rated

Lewis. That's Lewis, she told herself. Calm down. Breathe.

Sarah looked around and saw that she was in a large bedroom. They'd shoved her in here without any preamble. They never spoke to her. She'd only seen them for a moment, just before they grabbed her and put the blindfold on. They'd also gagged her and bound her hands behind her back.

A moment after she was shoved into this room, someone had walked all the way around her, not quite touching her, but close enough for her to feel his presence. It was unmistakably a he. She didn't know how, but she was sure of that.

A deep, silken voice said. "Excellent. You can go." Then a gentle hand removed the gag and blindfold. When she opened her eyes, Lewis was standing in front of her.

She'd seen him only once before, but he was not a man you could forget. He'd been brought into the building after he was captured by Attwater - when Tom turned his former mentor over to the Agency. Sarah had seen Lewis standing there, his hands cuffed behind his back, his head held proudly, a slight smile on his face. He hadn't seemed at all concerned that he'd just been captured. Why should he be concerned? They hadn't even held him a week before he escaped.

He'd looked at everything that day, scanning the building, the rooms, the people. His eyes had met hers for a fraction of a second, then moved on, dismissing her as unimportant. He must have changed his mind.

"Welcome, Ms. Hillar." His voice was amused and so were his eyes. That same tiny smile played about his lips. He pulled out a knife and flipped the blade open with a frightening click. She inhaled sharply and his smile broadened. He stepped close to her, his chest pressing against her breasts. He looked down into her eyes as he reached behind her to cut the cord binding her wrists.

He stepped back and shut the knife, then indicated a chair by the window. "Please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.

She rubbed her wrists and looked at him, surprised. Then she shook her head with a smile and went to sit down.

"Something amuses you?"

"Just... your attitude. Sort of the 'I'm going to have to kill you, but there's no reason to be rude about it' approach."

He threw back his head and laughed, surprising her. He was so controlled she hadn't expected such a response. He stopped laughing and looked at her and she knew he hadn't lost control. He had simply allowed himself to laugh.

"I like that. You needn't be concerned, however. I have no intention of killing you. You're much to valuable to me alive."

"Why?" She couldn't imagine what possible value she could have to him. She was just a secretary at the Agency. She had only a low-level security clearance. About the only reason she knew as much as she did was because she was a personal friend of Sloan Parker's.

Thinking of Sloan reminded her of her friend's tale of the time she was in Lewis' hands.

"I couldn't believe it, Sarah. I was bound - tied up hand and foot. All I should have felt was terror, but when he touched me..." Sloan shivered. "I've never wanted a man the way I wanted him that night."

Sarah hadn't understood at the time, but now - confronted by the reality of Lewis' presence, his magnetic charisma and overwhelming sensuality - she did.

A slow smile crept across Lewis' face and Sarah realized that he knew what she was thinking - or at least what she was feeling. She'd forgotten he was an empath. Tom never gave any overt reminders of those abilities, or of how different he was.

"Good," Lewis said.

Sarah shivered. She wasn't sure why, but he was pleased at her response to him. She didn't think that was a good thing for her.

He stood, studying her for a moment, and she felt as though she was pinned in place by his gaze. She couldn't have moved if the house caught on fire. Not unless he released her. The smile slowly crept back to his face as he held her with his eyes.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked suddenly.

"I'm an intelligent woman. Of course I am."

He chuckled. "I believe you'll be comfortable here." He indicated the bedroom with a small gesture.

Following his gesture, she looked around and saw a queen-sized bed covered with silk sheets and a large down comforter folded at the foot. There was something a little odd about the bed, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The chair she was sitting on was a large, comfortable wing back. The window beside the chair was covered with boards from the outside. Farther along the wall, there was a table with two chairs, a dresser, and a door leading into a bathroom. A large mirror took up most of the wall over the bed.

She looked back at Lewis. "They'll be looking for me," she told him.

"I don't believe so. You were scheduled to start a vacation this morning. No one expected you at work. They won't start looking for you for at least a week. By that time, we should be finished."

"Finished with what?"

He ignored the question. "I'll have Julia bring you some food. You must be hungry."

She was hungry. She didn't think it would be a good idea to eat anything he brought her, though. It might be drugged.

Again, he smiled, knowing what she was feeling. "You can eat the food we give you. I have no intention of drugging you, either."

She looked at him startled at his perception. Of course, it was the obvious reason for her to be suspicious of his offer of food.

He looked at her, still with that little smile playing about his lips. "You have my word."

"What's that worth?" she asked with some asperity.

The smile vanished and he stepped closer. "Trust will be very important in our work together, Ms. Hillar. You *will* learn to trust me."

She stared at him, her eyes wide. He couldn't possibly be serious.

He looked at her intently, pinning her with his gaze again. "If I give you my word, you may trust that it will be so. I will not break any promise I make to you."

She looked at him for a moment longer, her mind racing. "Will you promise not to kill me?"

The amused smile returned. "No. Will you accept my word, however, that I will tell you when you no longer have value to me?"

She gave him a disgusted look. "Right. You'll tell me I have no value, then pull out a gun and shoot me."

He shrugged. "As I said. If I give you my word, you can trust it."

He left the room and she considered his statement. He could have promised that he wouldn't kill her. Instead, he told her that he might not be able to keep his word if he made that promise. He was smart, though, and this was one of those 'he knew, she knew, he knew' situations.

One of her original captors, a blonde woman that she assumed was Julia, came through the door carrying a tray of food. She set the tray on the table and left with a smirk. The food smelled good.

Sarah walked over and looked down. Grilled chicken, broccoli and potatoes. She licked her lips. She was hungry. They'd taken her before noon and her watch told her it was now past eight. They'd driven for a long time with her on the floor of a dirty van. She didn't know whether she was far from the city or if they'd just done it to confuse her.

She looked down at the food and decided to take a chance. After all, there were three of them. If they wanted to drug her they could just hold her down and stick a needle in her arm. Any one of them was probably stronger and definitely better trained then herself.

She began to eat. The chicken was tender enough to cut with the fork, which was a good thing since they hadn't given her a knife.

Lewis and the blonde woman came back into the room as she finished the last bite. She looked around for a camera and finally decided the mirror must be two-way. The blonde woman took the tray and left with another smirk at Sarah.

Lewis looked Sarah up and down. "You're dirty and tired. Why don't you take a shower and get some rest. We'll start tomorrow."

"Start what?"

He ignored the question. "Everything you need should be in the bathroom. Towels, soap. Please, make yourself at home."

She just stared at him.

"You have my word that I won't bother you while you take your shower."

She crossed her arms and looked at him suspiciously. He wouldn't bother her while she was taking a shower, but what about when she came out? She looked at the bathroom, then back at him.

"Does the door lock?"

He was amused again. "Would that really help?"

She had a sudden image of him opening the door with one powerful kick. "Probably not."

She looked at him again and decided she might as well play along. She had no idea what he wanted from her and there was really only one way to find out.

"Thank you," she said, deciding to the accept the role of the guest. "I would like to take a shower."

"Excellent." He smiled broadly and held out his hand toward the bathroom. He really wanted her in there for some reason.

She turned and headed for the door.

"Ms. Hillar."

She stopped and turned back to face him.

"What made you change your mind?"

"The same thing that made me eat the food."

"Which is?"

"The fact that between you and the other two, you could pretty much force me to do anything you want. Actually, from what I've heard about you, you probably wouldn't need any help."

"To strip you naked and put you in the shower myself?"

The image struck her hard, but she didn't let it show. Hopefully, he would think it was fear, not arousal.

"Basically, yes."

He chuckled again and left the room.

She went into the bathroom. As expected, there was no lock, but the door shut securely. The tub was a huge, antique, claw foot with a ring shower curtain and an old-fashioned shower head that fell from the ceiling. It had non-slick pads stuck to the bottom and was placed in the corner against the wall. There was another one of those mirrors and she looked at it closely. She'd seen enough two-way mirrors at the Agency to know that this could be one. She looked into it as though looking into the eyes of someone on the other side, then deliberately looked at the edges of the mirror before looking back into the imaginary person's eyes and shaking her head. If there was someone on the other side, they'd know she recognized the mirror for what it was. If not, she'd just made a fool of herself.

She took off her clothes and hung them on the hook by the door, then turned on the shower and stepped in. The warm water felt marvelous, soothing away bruises and aches that she hadn't realized were there. She washed her hair and her entire body, trying to wash away the feel of their hands on her.

She took a long, hot shower, as hot as she could stand. When she stepped out, her clothes were gone. She swore and realized she should have expected that. In place of her blue jeans and shirt was a dark green silk chemise. She put her hands on her hips and looked at it in disgust.

"He's got to be kidding."

She reached out and took the scrap of material, holding it away from her as though it were a dead rat. She looked around the bathroom and finally decided the chemise was more practical than wearing a towel. She put it on and hesitantly opened the door.

He was sitting in the chair, looking at the bathroom door. "Are you feeling better, now, Ms. Hillar?"

She looked at him, amazed that he could calmly continue the charade after stealing her clothes.

"I thought you said you wouldn't bother me while I took a shower." Her tone was accusatory, though she knew it was a waste of time.

"And did I?"

She sighed in exasperation. He'd held to the letter of his word, just as she thought he would.

He looked over at the bed. "I believe you'll be comfortable here. Pleasant dreams, Ms. Hillar."

He stood and left the room.

She went to the door and tried to open it. It didn't budge. She looked, but there was no locking mechanism on this side. She looked back at the bed. No way. Instead, she went to the large, wing back chair he'd just vacated and curled up. She didn't expect to fall asleep, though. Not here.

She woke to the feeling of hands on her, lifting her. She reached out and grabbed a solid body and was pulled up. She opened her eyes, hanging on, and discovered Lewis was carrying her.

"The bed is really much more comfortable," he said in a conversational tone.

She realized he wasn't wearing a shirt, just some pajama bottoms - silk, like the chemise he'd given her to wear. He laid her on the bed and she scuttled away from him. He pulled the covers back with an amused look and indicated she should crawl underneath. She considered running, but didn't see what good that would do her. She lifted the covers and slid underneath, feeling more silk against her body. She expected him to leave, but instead he slid into the bed beside her, grabbing her before she could jump out. He turned her so her back was to him and curled himself around her.

"Good night, Ms. Hillar."

She held herself stiff and still, not daring to move, listening to the sound of his soft, even breathing. She had no idea whether he was asleep or not. She was afraid to turn her head to look. She lay there, feeling his hard body curled around her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his breath wafting across her neck, and wondered what he wanted from her. Whatever it was, she was fairly certain she was in deep, deep trouble.

"Wake up."

The words were spoken softly, right against her ear and she started. She must have drifted off sometime in the early morning. She pulled away from him and he let her. She jumped out of the bed and pressed her back against the closest wall, staring at him in horror. He lay there for a moment, supporting himself on one arm, looking like some fair-haired Dionysus. Then he lay back in the bed, crossing his arms behind his head and looked at her.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not at all," she answered sharply.

He smiled. "You will. Eventually."

Her mouth went dry as she realized that he intended for her to sleep beside him every night. He'd already told her it would take a week to complete whatever it was. What the Hell did he want from her?

He threw back the covers and slid out of the bed, then walked towards her. She pressed herself against the wall in fear, but he went past her to the bathroom and shut the door. She stood, trembling, not sure what to do.

A few minutes later, he opened the door and came out. "What would you like for breakfast?" he asked casually.

"Fresh fruit and an English muffin," she answered as bravely as she could.

He glanced at her and for the first time she thought she saw respect in his eyes.

"Of course. I'll have Julia bring it to you."

As he left and she breathed a sigh of relief. Why do you feel relieved, she asked herself. He's just going to come back.

Still, he was gone for right now and that was something. She decided to use the bathroom while she waited for her breakfast.

A few minutes later, the door opened and he walked through carrying a tray. "I thought I'd join you for breakfast."

He set the tray down and sat in one of the chairs. He made a plate for himself, then looked over at her inquiringly. "Aren't you hungry?"

She shook her head. "I've lost my appetite."

He looked at the food, then back at her and leaned back in the chair. "You're certain you don't want anything to eat?"

She shook her head again.

He nodded, then stood up and walked to the door. He opened it and stood in the doorway. "Julia."

The blonde woman came into the room.

"Would you take the food away, please?" he asked.

Sarah watched in confusion as Julia walked over to the table and piled Lewis' plate onto the tray, then took it out of the room. He was obviously hungry, why didn't he eat?

Lewis shut the door behind Julia and walked over to the bed. He pulled the heavy comforter back to the foot of the bed and folded it, leaving the silk sheets in place. He turned and looked at her, then extended his hand.

Sarah swallowed hard, but didn't move.

Lewis tilted his head and gave her a disappointed look. "Really, Ms. Hillar. You've been so cooperative up to now."

"What..." She had to clear her throat and start again. "What do you want from me?"

"For now, merely your cooperation. There's no reason to make this difficult."

"Make what difficult?" Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely speak.

"I think you've begun to figure that out for yourself. As you said, you're an intelligent woman."

He walked over to her and she could see that he had an erection The silk pajamas clung to every line of his body. She swallowed hard and looked into his eyes.

"You're going to rape me." Her eyes traveled down, fearfully, staring at his obvious arousal.

He stopped close enough that she could feel the heat of his body. "No."

She looked up, startled, searching his eyes to try to find the truth.

"I give you my word. I won't enter your body until you ask me to."

She looked at him wide-eyed. How could he make such a promise? He must know she'd never ask him.

"Take this off." He tugged on the chemise without touching her.

"But, you just said..."

"I said I wouldn't rape you. I gave you my word." His eyes hardened. "Take this off."

She quickly considered her options. He could easily remove it. She wasn't certain she was willing to risk violence, which he was obviously prepared to use if she resisted him. She swallowed again and slowly reached down for the hem of the chemise. She took two deep breaths, then clenched her jaw and looked into his eyes as she drew it over her head. She had the satisfaction of seeing the respect return before the silk hid his eyes from hers.

She stood naked before him, and the chemise slid from her trembling fingers. A single tear crept down her cheek.

His finger reached out and brushed it away. "Sarah." It was the first time he'd called her that and she trembled harder at the sound of her name on his lips. "I won't hurt you, Sarah. Trust me."

He circled her slowly, looking at her body closely, stopping when he stood in front of her again, then leaned in and brushed his nose against her cheek, her eyelids, her nose. She could feel the breath coming from his nostrils as he moved, brushing softly against her face. No other part of him touched her.

Her lips parted and her breath became ragged. She was becoming aroused. Her nipples hardened. She wanted it to stop, but it was primal. She responded to his maleness, his dominance in a way she didn't understand.

He circled her again, stopping behind her and pressed himself against her. His hands rested lightly on her hips and he urged her forward, forcing her to walk, in slow, halting steps toward the bed. She was trembling and trying desperately not to cry. She closed her eyes and let him herd her where he wanted her.

He stopped when the silk of the sheets brushed her legs. He leaned down and lifted her, laying her sideways on the bed. His body moved over her, but his weight didn't come down on her. Instead, he reached down the side of the bed and pulled something up. Then he very gently took her hands and raised them above her head, slipping them through two separate loops and pulling them tight.

She looked up and gasped as she realized what he had done. His weight came down on her before she could try to pull away. She tugged desperately at the bonds and realized they were silk, like the sheets. That was what was strange about the bed. She looked at the head and footboards and realized that part of the decoration was more silk bonds.

She looked at him in horror. His gaze was calm and unconcerned.

"I promised I wouldn't hurt you."

She swallowed. "Define hurt." It was barely a whisper.

The respect returned to his eyes. "I will not damage you physically or cause you physical pain."

She closed her eyes. It wasn't enough, but it was something.

"What...?" Her eyes opened wide and she gasped as she suddenly felt his hand on her body.

"Shh, Sarah. Be quiet now." His voice was soft and soothing. His hand was gentle as he slowly began to explore her. He touched her breasts carefully, his finger trailing a path around each nipple. They were already hard, but they tightened even more at his touch. His hand cupped the round globes, fingers tightening gently, then releasing. He watched her, studied her as he worked.

His hand moved down, seeking out the places on her sides, her belly where she was most sensitive. She tried to control her breathing, tried not to gasp and tense when he found the places where she was most responsive, but it was a losing battle. He explored every inch of her, working his way up her arms and caressing her palms. He nuzzled her neck and shoulders to see what would make her breath come faster. His hands slid underneath her, lifting and turning her so he could trace patterns on her back. He kneaded her buttocks, then moved his hands down, exploring her legs. He touched her feet and discovered places that no one had ever looked for before. He kissed the backs of her knees, and stroked her inner thighs. Then he parted her legs and his hand dipped down, covering her mons before moving lower.

She gasped and bit her lip, trying not to cry out. Her body was completely awake, every nerve alive and sensitized by his gentle exploration of her. His hand between her legs was firm, but still gentle as he continued to learn her secrets.

He watched her face and she couldn't look away from his searching eyes as his hand moved over her sensitive clitoris, down to tickle the lips of the labia, then back up to circle her clitoris again with a lazy finger. The fingers moved more decisively and began to rub against her. She moaned and tried to hold herself still, but her body betrayed her, moving in time with the quietly insistent hand. He smiled and lifted himself from the bed.

She raised her head to see what he was doing and watched as he knelt beside the bed. He pulled her toward him and she gasped as she realized his intention.

"No, please," she breathed. Her head dropped back and she tugged on the bonds that held her hands.

He spread her legs wider, lifting them onto his shoulders, leaving her completely open to his touch. His hands grasped her hips firmly, drawing her closer to him. She felt his breath on her thigh, then against her clitoris and she tensed, waiting for the first touch.

It didn't come. She opened her eyes, confused and raised her head to look down. His eyes met hers and she released the breath she was holding. At that moment, his tongue touched her. She gasped at the feel of it. One touch. So gentle. Her head dropped back as all the strength left her body.

His tongue touched her again, softly. It was warm and wet and it felt wonderful. He explored her with his tongue as he had with his fingers. She gasped and moaned as he drove her toward a climax - a climax she didn't want. She tried to fight it. The pleasure was bad enough, but she couldn't allow him to force her to orgasm.

She changed the pattern of her breathing, using the tactics she'd learned when she was Lamaze coach for her sister. His tongue disrupted her efforts.

She tried to pull herself away using the bonds. He held her in place.

She tried to recite the Gettysburg address under her breath. His teeth nipped her clitoris, drawing a startled yelp from her and breaking her concentration.

One of his arms circled her thigh and his thumb pressed at the top of her clitoris, searching out the sensitive organ beneath the clitoral hood. He set up a rhythmic motion, driving her clitoris between thumb and tongue and lips. She couldn't stand it any longer and she held her breath waiting. When it came, she cried out softly in despair or pleasure, she couldn't tell which. She shuddered as the feelings washed through her.

It wasn't the most intense orgasm she'd ever had, but it represented a loss of self that terrified her.

She lay there for a moment, then dropped her head to the side and began to cry. She felt his weight come down on the bed and he pulled her against him. He released her hands and she struck out at him mindlessly. He allowed it. She couldn't hurt him.

The strength left her again and she curled up in a ball, weeping. He just held her.

When the crying began to subside, she tensed. To her surprise he let her go. She rolled out of the bed and stood on trembling legs, looking at him. Then she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. There was still no lock.

She hit the door once with her fist. Then again. She lost control and pounded on it, then slid to the floor and curled up in a ball again.

After a few moments, she came back to herself. She stood up slowly and turned on the water. She slipped into the shower and tried to wash his touch off her body. She used hot water, trying to scald the feel of him away. She washed herself all over with soap. Then she started to cry again. She sat down in the tub and let the water wash the tears from her face.

The water turned off and she looked up. Lewis stood beside the tub. He was nude and still quite erect. He reached down and lifted her out of the tub, setting her on her feet beside him. He reached for a towel and began to dry her with it. It was a comforting, soothing feeling. It frightened her that she could feel soothed by his touch and she made a noise of protest. He ignored it.

She tried to take the towel away from him, but he held it, and her, firmly. He continued to dry her. When he raised the towel and vigorously rubbed her short, blonde hair, she almost laughed.

When she was dry, he threw the towel aside and lifted her again. She tried to push away from him, but he was too strong. She considered some of the more drastic self-defense techniques she knew, like gouging out his eyes, but she decided it wouldn't help her. He would stop her, or, if she succeeded in hurting him, one of the others would make her pay.

He laid her on the bed, longways this time. He pinned her beneath him and brought her hands up to the headboard.

"No." The protest was involuntary on her part.

"You're not ready to have your hands free yet." He slipped her hands into the loops on the headboard and checked the play of the cord, then settled himself beside her.

"Lesson number Two," he said.

She looked at him fearfully as he began to touch her again. She responded to his touch more quickly this time. Between the heat of the shower and her body's memory of recent pleasure, she had little control.

He took his time and roused her fully, using hands, lips and tongue on every sensitive spot he'd discovered. He pulled her close, letting her feel his erection. He turned her on her side so she faced him and lifted her top leg over his. She gasped, and tried to pull away, expecting him to enter her. He held her still and looked into her eyes.

"I gave you my word," he reminded her.

He slid his lower arm under her body and pulled her against him. She could feel his erection pulsing against her thigh and was amazed at his restraint.

Cradling her against his chest with his lower arm, he slid the upper between their bodies. His finger touched her and she gasped. His face was lying on the pillow beside her. It was so intimate. As he'd intended, she realized.

He leaned closer, and for the first time, his lips touched hers. He brushed his mouth lightly over hers, then brushed her clitoris with his fingers. She gasped again and his tongue gently slid over the insides of her lips.

His fingers touched her yet again and her back arched involuntarily, pressing her body against his. His mouth left hers and traveled down her neck.

She felt a strange sense of loss and realized that she wanted him to take her with his tongue, to feel him inside her mouth. Her eyes widened as she realized what he'd meant when he said he wouldn't enter her till she asked.

She tensed as understanding hit, and tried to pull away from him. He held her to him and his manner changed. His mouth and fingers, so gentle before, became demanding and ruthless. He touched her and her body shivered in response, though she still tried to pull away from him.

He drove her relentlessly to climax. He gave her no quarter, no chance to think or catch her breath. She tried to fight him, but the sheer sensual experience overwhelmed her. She cried out as she came, harder this time, stronger. Her body shuddered with reaction, both to the orgasm and to the knowledge of what he could do to her.

As she began to cry again, his hand came up and undid the bonds that held her wrists and he held her against him again. She didn't try to strike him this time, just pushed miserably at his chest. The arms that held her didn't budge a millimeter.

She cried until she thought there was nothing left in her. He held her, without speaking. He didn't touch her intimately. He just held her and wouldn't let her pull away from him.

This, too, was part of the lesson. He was her torment and her comfort. He would bring delight and soothe the pain she felt for responding. She was to turn to him for everything. She lay quietly, trying to think. She didn't know how to fight him. The only alternative was to try to force him to kill her. She wasn't even sure she could do that. He would know what she was doing and he wouldn't allow it.

He pulled away from her a little and she could tell her was studying her. She wouldn't look at him, just lay still and quiet.

"Rest for a while, Sarah. I'll send some food for you. Try to eat."

She felt his weight leave the bed and heard the door shut. She raised her head and looked around the room. She doubted there would be anything she could use to kill herself. He was too intelligent to leave her that option.

She got out of the bed on shaky legs and wrapped the comforter around her. It was too warm, but it made her feel secure. She walked over to the chair and curled up in it, laying her head against the back.

Some time later, Julia came through the door carrying another tray. The look she gave was still a smirk, but there was a trace of pity this time. Sarah closed her eyes and waited for the door to close again.

She stood and went to the tray. No fork this time. Just a spoon. Her body spoke to her, demanding food, but she ignored it. It had betrayed her. It didn't deserve to be cared for. She went back and curled up in the chair again, closing her eyes and waiting for Lesson number Three.

After a time, her body's insistence that she see to it's needs grew. She stood and went to the bathroom, relieving herself. She showered again and brushed her teeth. Then she went back and uncovered the tray of food.

The delicious smell of clam chowder filled her nostrils. She laughed almost hysterically. Clam chowder was one of her favorite dishes. They'd been watching her, knew about her. She forced herself to calm and continued to stare down at the soup. She took a deep breath and looked around the room.

She had few options and she didn't really want to die. She simply had to find a way to maintain her hold on her Self.

She sat down and forced herself to take a few bites. It was still warm and it tasted good. She broke off a piece of the brown bread and ate it with the soup. She ate ravenously, as she always did after a good orgasm. The thought stopped her for a moment, but she forced it away and continued to eat. When she finished, she pushed the bowl aside and stood up. The door opened.

She turned, not surprised to see Lewis and Julia in the doorway. Julia took the tray and left. Lewis stood there, completely nude and totally unembarrassed.

"I'm glad you were able to eat something. How do you feel?"

"How do you expect me to feel?"

"I meant physically."

She sighed. "What difference does it make?"

"A great deal, actually. Go lie on the bed, please."

She looked at him without moving. He cocked his head to the side and waited. After a minute, she sighed again and stood. She wasn't certain that compliance was the best choice. It helped reinforce his control. Maybe if she fought him, she'd retain more of herself.

Some part of her, deep inside argued against that. She kept thinking of willow trees bending with the wind. No wind, no force pulled a willow tree out of the ground because it gave. It's shape might change, but the tree stood.

She walked over to the bed with the comforter still wrapped around her. Part of it dragged along behind her as she walked. She reached the bed and looked over her shoulder at him.

"On your stomach."

She complied and he chuckled, presumably because she still had the comforter wrapped around her. She felt his weight on the bed and her protective covering was gently removed. He laid her hands down at her sides, then straddled her body, sitting on her thighs. She could feel that he had another erection.

His hands began to move on her, not arousing her, but in a deep, sensuous massage. He kneaded the muscles of her neck and shoulders slowly and surely, working the knots out with firm, but gentle hands.

She lay still and accepted it. This was more of the 'Lewis as comforter' approach. Her mind knew that, but her body didn't care.

She thought about what was happening and wondered how he could be so calm. Where had he learned such control? Most men would never be able to keep from giving in to their own arousal by now. A thought occurred to her and she grinned into the pillow.

"Something amuses you?" he asked.

She kept forgetting he was an empath. She considered not telling him, but she knew the comment would draw that odd respect again.

"I was just wondering if you go out and do the blonde between sessions with me."

His hands faltered almost imperceptibly. She'd startled him. A feeling of power shot through her. She knew he'd feel it with her, but she couldn't control her emotions.

"No," he replied. "This is a journey you and I have to take alone."

She was surprised that he'd answered her, but the response made her feel better. He'd included himself on this journey, as though he knew he would be affected by these experiences too. Intellectually, she knew he wouldn't be as strongly affected as herself, but it made her feel better to think she might move him in some way.

His hands worked tirelessly on her body. He took care to touch every part of her - hands, legs, feet. He lifted her extremities and held them against him as he worked. She felt totally relaxed. Limp as a wet noodle, she thought. It occurred to her that his hands should start to cramp sometime.

It went on for a very long time. She found her thoughts drifting and realized her mind was following her body into a very relaxed state. This is bad, she thought idly, but she couldn't seem to make herself come out of it.

His hands continued their gentle caresses, and he turned her over on her back. She knew she should be embarrassed at the intimacy, but she was too relaxed to care. She closed her eyes and sighed.

He worked on her legs and arms from this new position. She felt him straddle her body again, and his hands touched her neck and shoulders, continuing the gentle pressure on her muscles.

His hands traveled down her neck to her breasts, kneading them. It felt good, but slightly different. The hands moved again and worked on her ribcage. She was so relaxed and he was so gentle, she didn't realize he was waking her senses again until she moaned and shifted her hips under him, pressing herself against his erection. She gasped and looked up at him.

He lay down on top of her, molding his body to hers, sliding his knee between hers and spreading her legs. She pushed against his chest with her hands and he drew back slightly, capturing her wrists and drawing her arms up.

"Don't." She said it quietly, not a command or a plea. Just a simple statement.

He looked into her eyes and slowly released her wrists, drawing his hands down her arms in a long caress, back to her body. The look he gave her told her she was on probation. She shivered and put her hands on his shoulders, trying not to push him away, knowing he would bind her again if she did.

His lips took hers in a long, intimate kiss. This time, his tongue delved into her mouth, probing the secrets there, leaving her shaking and breathless. When he released her mouth, his lips traveled down her neck and her head fell back at the feel of his tongue on her skin.

Her hands clasped his shoulders now. She wanted to push him away, but somehow she couldn't. His hands traveled over her again, sensitizing every nerve. Her body tingled with desire and need. Her breath came hard and fast.

Raising himself on his arms, he positioned himself between her legs. She felt the tip of him resting against her opening. She was wet and slick and ready for him. She held her breath and waited for him to enter her.

"Not until you invite me."

He looked down at her and her eyes widened. Her jaw clenched. She wouldn't. She would not say it.

Amusement entered his eyes and he leaned down, his mouth touching her neck, her face, her breasts. She felt his breath in her ear and realized she'd closed her eyes and her hands were pulling him closer again.

"Just say 'Yes'. That's all. One word."

She whimpered, then clamped her lower lip in her teeth. She wouldn't.

He moved against her, shifting her legs wider. The tip of him pressed against her vagina. She could feel it there, opening her. He pulled back and then pressed forward the tiniest bit and she threw back her head with a gasp. Her body bucked against him, straining to push him inside her, but he held himself back, just the tip resting against her.

How could he do this? Where did he get the control? She certainly had none.

"Say 'Yes'," his voice urged her again.

His hands and mouth traveled her body, urging her to an even higher level of need than before. She bucked against him. Her hands reached down and grabbed his hips, trying to draw him inside her.

"Say 'Yes'."

She couldn't do it. Her body was beyond her control, but her voice was still her own.

A tiny sound of negation came from her throat. He pulled back and moved down her body. She gasped and reared up as she felt his mouth come down on her. His lips and tongue drove her wild.

"Lewis, Please..." she practically screamed.

His weight came down on her again and his body was between her legs. "Please what?"

"Don't," she panted. "Don't make me."

"One word." There was no mercy in him.

The tip of him rested against her again, maddening her. Her fingers clawed at his buttocks.

"Say, 'Yes', Sarah." His mouth traveled her upper body again, while one hand caressed the lower. His thumb came down on the top of her clitoris, while the tip of him tantalized her at the opening of her vagina.

"Say it and I'll give you release. One word and I'll take you higher than you've ever gone. I promise you, I won't make you wait for it."

His voice was harsh and demanding.

She couldn't stand it anymore. Her head dropped back and she reared against him one more time, hoping he'd give in to his own need.

"Yes," she said. "Oh, God, YES."

He thrust into her, opening her, filling her, and she nearly screamed with delight. Her arms and legs wrapped around him and he moved, powerfully. He was as good as his word. She came almost immediately. The sensations were stronger than any she'd ever felt. He waited while she gasped and shuddered, then began to move again. His hand moved between them and his thumb came down on her clitoris. His motion was hard and driving and her body followed his. The orgasm, intense as it had been, had not assuaged her desire.

She looked up at him and suddenly raised her head, taking his mouth in a passionate kiss. She felt his surprise, but he responded immediately and she began to run her hands over his body.

His rhythm faltered for just a moment, then returned more savagely as she began to participate, to urge him on. He took her and made her his, but she demanded something in return. She didn't know what she asked for, but he gave it.

He held her tightly to him and they were locked together, their mouths melded as their bodies were joined in an even more intimate kiss.

He raised his head from her mouth, levered himself up on his hands and thrust deep and hard. She screamed with pleasure and release and felt him tense and shudder as he climaxed with her.

He held himself above her, his head thrown back, eyes closed. The final tremors of her orgasm passed away and she realized what she'd given him, what she'd done. She gasped and one hand went to her mouth as she looked up at him. Her eyes filled with tears as his opened and he lowered his head, looking down at her.

He lay down, putting the bulk of his weight beside her and pulled her, ever so gently against him. "Shh, Sarah. It's all right."

A sob escaped her at the gentle words. He hadn't spoken so softly to her before, not like this. She clung to him, weeping. She'd lost herself.

He stroked her hair. His cheek rested against hers and he curled himself around her, tucking her inside the angles of his body. "Shh. It's all right."

It wasn't all right. It would never be all right again. She was lost in a world that made no sense to her. How could she lie here with this man who was using her this way? How could she cling to him? Her breathing slowed and steadied as reason returned. It was part of the lesson - Lesson number Three.

She lay there, feeling him against her, and realized that his heart was still pounding. As she quieted, his heart rate slowed. Experimentally, she let the pain return, felt the pang in her chest at what she'd done and felt his pulse speed up.

He was responding to her! She wasn't the only one who was learning. A surge of power ran through her again, quickly suppressed. She knew he must have felt it. She couldn't hide it from him. She also knew that she was responding to him far more than he was responding to her. Perhaps she could change that.

A shiver of fear ran through her as she realized what it would take to accomplish her goal, what she would have to do. It might be her only way out.

He tightened his grip, presumably in response to the fear she felt, and she held him closer. She was afraid, but she couldn't think of anything else to try. Not right now, though. Later. Tomorrow maybe.

It occurred to her that this might be part of his plan. He was very intelligent. He would know exactly what kinds of things would go through a woman's mind in a situation like this. Given his skill at playing her body, he must have had someone in this position before.

A stab of jealousy shot through her and he chuckled. She stiffened in response to his amusement and he let her draw away from her.

She glared at him and got out of the bed. He smiled at her. She put her hands on her hips and glared harder. His smile broadened. She tossed her head and turned to the bathroom.

"I'm going to take another shower," she shot over her shoulder. "I'm feeling dirty again."

He laughed. "I'll join you."

She froze in her tracks and turned to watch him roll gracefully out of the bed. He walked towards her and she backed away. Somehow, this was a new terror. So far, he'd confined his attentions to her to the bed. For some reason, she'd thought she was safe everywhere else.

He stopped beside her and ran his hand down her arm.

She trembled, not sure whether it was from fear or desire. He smiled and she felt certain that he wasn't confused in the least.

"Lesson Four?" she whispered.

He leaned in and brushed his nose over her face again. It reminded her of the way a cat scented its prey. "Lesson Seven, actually," he breathed in her ear. "We skipped Lesson Four entirely. You did well. I wasn't expecting you to come so far so fast."

"What did I do that you weren't expecting?" Her voice trembled as she spoke.

He smiled, but didn't answer. His hands moved to her hips and he pulled her against him.

She thought about it while he nuzzled her. He'd intended to bind her hands again. Reaching the point where he could leave her hands free must have been one lesson. He was also surprised that she responded. She swallowed at the memory. She hadn't just responded, she'd participated. Lesson Six. But what was Lesson Four?

His mood was almost playful as he nipped her ear. She could feel that he was erect again. Not surprising, given the amount of restraint he'd shown today. She'd had four orgasms. He'd only had one. As her body replied to his with deepening desire, her mind raced.

She'd gone faster than he expected her to. Perhaps that was because she wasn't fighting him. Maybe she'd made the right choice, given herself an advantage.

His hand touched her between the legs and she gasped, unable to think anymore.

"Bath or shower?" he murmured. His voice was husky this time, passionate. Not the controlled whispers he'd used before.

She looked at him and blushed. She definitely wasn't ready to implement her plan yet.

He chuckled. "Both have their respective pleasures."

She shivered at the images that statement evoked in her.

He put his fingers to her chin and turned her face up. His eyes had a trace of hardness in them again. "Choose one."

She licked her lips and thought quickly. In a bath, they'd be lying together intimately. In the shower they would be separate, but he would have easier access to her body. She decided against the intimacy. He could give himself access to her body anytime he chose.

"Shower."

Respect flared again, and he nodded.

He pulled her close and kissed her. His hard-muscled arms held her tightly against him as his mouth took hers. His tongue demanded that she open to him and she did. She sighed softly and pressed herself against him without realizing it. Her arms went around his neck and her fingers splayed across his shoulders.

He broke the kiss and looked deeply into her eyes. "Good, Sarah. Very good. You are definitely ready for Lesson Seven."

She trembled, but held herself proudly, refusing to pull away from him. "Even if we did skip Lesson Four?"

He was startled again, but a slow smile spread across his face. "It will come in it's own time. Sometimes you have to be flexible."

The obvious double entendre occurred to her, but she wasn't brave enough to follow through yet.

He left his arm around her and led her into the bathroom.

She stood silently while he turned on the water and tested the temperature. He turned to Sarah and put both hands on her waist, lifting her into the tub, then stepped in himself. She clung to him for a second, trying to get her balance, and he pressed her back into the stream of water. She opened her mouth to breathe as water poured over her face and felt his mouth take hers again, his tongue thrusting deeply as he kissed her.

The feel of the water on her skin was sensual, more so because his wet hands played over her body. He pulled away from her after a moment and reached behind her for the soap. He stepped back and drew her with him out of the direct stream of the water. After he lathered his hands, he put the soap in hers.

"Wash me," he told her, suiting action to order as he ran his soapy hands over her body. She stood unmoving and his hands stilled. His face hardened and the look he gave her was plain. She slowly soaped her hands, then put the soap back in the dish. His hands resumed their travels.

She took a deep breath and reached out her hand, sliding it over his chest. It was hard and muscular and felt wonderful under her palm. She reached out with the other hand and followed the first down the other side of his body. She ran her hands up, around his shoulders, then down his back a little ways. His arms circled her, pulling her close so she could reach further down.

As she ran her hands down his back, he kissed her lightly. His hands traveled down the small of her back to her buttocks. He parted the cheeks and slid one hand between them, soaping her anus. She gasped as his finger explored, thankful he didn't try to enter her that way.

The sensation was exquisite as his hands moved lower and explored deeper. She trembled with pleasure, her arms tightening around him.

He pulled away and reached up, drawing her hands over his shoulders and back down his chest. His hands led hers down his body to his stomach, then stopped and he reached for her again. She looked up and his eyes were hard and insistent. She reached back for the soap again, trying to delay. He didn't stop her, just waited while she worked up more lather, then took the soap from her and did the same for his own hands. His arms went around her upper body as he put the soap back in the dish, then he paused.

She swallowed hard and reached out hesitantly. She ran her hands down his stomach and around behind, soaping his taut buttocks. She started to bring her hands back around, but he grasped her forearms, stopping her. He slid her hands back around toward the crack and she knew what he wanted.

She swallowed again and slipped one hand between the hard, muscular globes, the other pulling gently to part them. Her body was pressed up against his so she could reach around him. She slid her hand deep into the crack and stroked her soapy fingers across his anus. His nostrils flared and his breathing quickened slightly, but he gave no other sign as he began to run his hands over her shoulders and back again.

She drew her hands around to the front of his body and paused, then wrapped her fingers around his erection. His stomach fluttered and his breath became ragged. Made bolder by his response, she ran her soapy hands up and down the hard length of him, feeling him pulse and throb in her hand.

Thinking that she'd met his demands, she moved her hands back up to his stomach.

"Lower." His voice was husky with passion now.

She slowly lowered her hand and touched him, cupped him. It occurred to her that she could hurt him if she chose to - badly. She looked up and saw his eyes on her, amused, but with the slightest hint of wariness. Oddly, the wariness made her relax. If he'd been merely amused, she might have gotten angry. The wariness acknowledged the fact that she could hurt him, but chose not to - if only to protect herself.

She stroked him gently and his eyelids fluttered down for a second, then up again. She wondered why he'd told her to do it if he didn't trust her. Obviously, he was testing her. She'd moved faster than anticipated and he was testing her boundaries.

She looked deep into his eyes and decided to take a chance. She grasped her courage firmly and put her arms around his neck, pressing her body against him. His eyebrows lifted in surprise as she leaned in and kissed him hesitantly.

He didn't respond, perhaps waiting to see if she'd dare more. Her mouth opened and she tried to kiss him more boldly, but it was too much for her. She trembled and started to pull away.

He must have sensed that she'd done all she could because his arms came around her, supporting her, holding her tightly against him. His mouth took over where hers had given up and he kissed her deeply, his mouth possessing her as his body had earlier.

She trembled with desire now and he pushed her back under the stream of water again. He continued to kiss her, but she felt one of his hands reach back and heard the soft sounds as he soaped his hands again.

His mouth moved to her ear. "Reward time, Sarah." His whisper made her shiver with anticipation. Her body already responded to the promise, not just the reality. He leaned her back against the wall and she gasped as the cold tile touched her back. She forgot that as he slipped his hand between her legs.

The feel of his strong hand covered with slippery soap set her on fire. She gasped with pleasure and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

His hand slipped easily around, sliding over her clitoris. One finger, then two went into her vagina and she writhed against his hand, trying to set a rhythm that would bring her release. He chuckled and pressed against her.

She felt his other hand moving between them and looked down. He was rubbing his hand over his penis till it was slick with soap. His hands went around her hips and grasped her buttocks. Then he lifted her upwards.

She gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his hips.

He chuckled. "I won't drop you."

He lowered her slightly and she felt him slip inside her. Her breath caught at the incredible feeling. She was impaled on him, totally supported by him. The feel of him inside her was different. The soap had a completely different kind of slickness from her own natural lubricant.

He held her in place and began to slide easily in and out of her, the glide totally unlike anything she'd ever felt. She'd thought she was fairly experienced, but she was beginning to realize that her sex life was tame.

He pushed himself deeply into her, then pulled out almost completely. She couldn't believe he could move like that and still support her weight.

He thrust harder, beginning to build a rhythm, then moved to the left so they were under the shower head. The water struck her as he moved in and out of her. She gasped at the double pounding, throwing her head back and opening her mouth to breathe. The water cascaded into her mouth and she swallowed some. The feelings were unbelievable.

"Let go, Sarah. Trust me."

She looked down into his ice-blue eyes. Her hands were still grasping his neck in a stranglehold. He reached up and kissed her mouth, pausing for a moment in his movement and pinning her against the wall. She accepted the kiss for a moment, then tightened her arms around him and kissed him back. She let go and her passion exploded. Her tongue wound itself around his. He broke the kiss with a triumphant smile and her mouth traveled his face as he began to move again. Her hands released their tight grasp and she touched his broad shoulders, his neck, his chest, his back, anything that she could reach.

She wanted him closer. The driving beat was good, but she wanted to feel him against her. She needed to wrap herself around him, feel his weight, his masculinity, his dominance.

"Lewis," she gasped. "Lewis, put me down."

He looked at her startled and the movement stopped. She put her hands on either side of his face and drew him too her. She kissed him passionately, full on the mouth, driving her tongue into his mouth. He responded ardently, his return kiss demanding more from her. She broke away from him.

"Put me down," she said, her breath coming hard and fast.

He looked into her eyes and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled himself out of her and lowered her feet to the floor of the tub.

She pulled him to her and kissed him again, her hands still on his face. She circled around him, then stepped back out of the tub, pulling him with her.

She drew him down, lying on the thick, soft bath mat and spread her legs for him. He lay down on top of her, his eyes smoldering and she wrapped her legs around him, her mouth seizing his again. Her hands moved to his hips and buttocks, urging him inside her.

He gave her what she wanted. He drove himself into her, wrapping his arms around her, devouring her with his mouth and hands. She gave as good as she got.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, she slipped her head under his chin before he could move down her body. She tasted his neck, feeling the strong column of it with her lips and tongue, licking the water droplets off. Her hands moved over his broad back, exploring, feeling the muscles bunch and tense as he moved. She took his Adam's apple into her mouth and sucked. He growled deep in his throat and thrust harder into her. She moved down to the crevice at the base of his neck and dipped her tongue into it, then traveled over his broad shoulder to the round where his arm met his shoulder. She bit it lightly and he stiffened, pulling back to look at her face. Her smile was predatory as she took his mouth again.

She wrapped her arms and legs more tightly around him and held him to her, reveling in his hard strength, the power of him. She threw back her head and let him claim her neck with his mouth and tongue, moaning deep in her throat.

She began to pant, deep moaning sobs in time to the shocks of pleasure he was producing in her body. She stopped thinking and just felt until her body exploded in orgasm. Again, she felt him stiffen and join her in climax.

She lay on the floor of the bathroom, his weight still pressing down on her, and shook with reaction to what had just happened. He held her till the shaking stopped, then carefully withdrew. He shifted his weight to lie beside her, leaning on one arm, and looked down at her.

She didn't cry this time, although her eyes filled with tears. He reached down and laced the fingers of his free hand through hers.

"Is it really that bad?"

She looked up at him and sniffed. "How would you feel?"

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond.

"I know," she said. "You wouldn't. No one could do this to you."

He was silent for a few moments.

"What happened?" he asked.

She looked at him in confusion. "You told me to let go."

A slow smile spread across his face and he started to shake with laughter. She had no idea why.

After a moment he spoke. "I meant, let go of my shoulders."

She looked at him for a moment, then burst out laughing herself. He joined her and they lay there, laughing together.

The laughter was a form of release just as the tears had been before, and she felt better afterwards. He stood up and extended a hand down for her. She put her hand in his and he drew her to her feet. She started to head for the door, but he stopped her.

"Back in the shower."

She looked at him, surprised that he wanted to have her again so soon.

He smiled in amusement. "You still have soap inside you." He nodded downwards. "It'll dry you out if you don't wash carefully."

"Well, we certainly can't have that," she said with some asperity.

He chuckled and stepped into the tub, drawing her with him. The shower was still running. He turned a knob and the stream of water switched to a mini-shower head on a flexible cable.

"Sit down," he said, indicating the side of the tub.

"I can do it myself," she blushed.

He gave her a look and she sat. He pushed her legs wide and crouched between them. She braced herself, holding on to the sides of the tub.

He brought the shower head up between her legs and she gasped as the pulsating waves hit her. He grinned and gently inserted a finger inside her. He wasn't trying to arouse her - exactly. As he douched her, though, moving one finger, than another in and out of her, aiming the water so it went up her, she felt faint from the pleasure.

"God, that feels incredible." It slipped out before she could stop herself. She blushed, not believing she'd said it.

His eyes twinkled up at her, but he didn't say anything, just continued to clean her until he was satisfied that there was no soap mixed with her own natural slickness. Then he began to touch her.

He used the shower head to his advantage, focusing the pulsating beat up, then down. He changed the setting and varied the pounding of the water on her. All the while, he used his other hand to stroke and caress. She was moaning with pleasure.

One of her hands slipped and he grabbed her before she could fall. "I should have put you on the other side," he laughed, indicating the wall.

She put her arms around his shoulders and drew him towards her. His eyes darkened with passion and he traced a gentle kiss up the line of her neck to her ear.

"How do you want me?" he whispered.

She shivered as she realized he was giving her a choice this time. She wanted a little more control, and an image of him below her as she rode him came into her mind. She smiled a little wickedly and whispered back. "Underneath."

He turned off the water and lifted her in his arms, carrying her out of the bathroom. She expected him to lay her on the bed, but instead he set her on her feet. He grabbed the comforter from the floor and laid it over the bed.

"Silk sticks when it's wet," he said by way of explanation.

He looked at her, then crawled onto the bed. There was something about the way he moved that aroused her even more. It was sensual, animalistic. She knew he was doing it deliberately, but she didn't care. He draped himself on the bed, posing for her, laying on his side again in that incredibly provocative pose, one arm supporting his head, one leg crooked up. He patted the bed beside him in clear invitation.

She couldn't resist and climbed on the bed, pushing him down onto his back. His hands caressed her hips, but he didn't pull her on top of him. She looked down at him and was struck by a wave of desire. He'd controlled her, but now he gave himself into her hands.

She straddled him, but didn't take him inside her. His hands stayed on her hips as she ran her fingers down his chest, back up to his shoulders, then down again. She explored him slowly, trying to learn him as he'd learned her. She touched his face, his neck, his chest. As her desire grew, she leaned down and kissed his body, suckling his nipples. The hard nubs felt wonderful to her tongue, and she nipped them playfully. He arched and inhaled sharply, his hands moving lightly on her hips, then stilling again.

She couldn't believe the control he had. It became a game to see which of them would give in first. She knew she'd lose eventually, but she had to try. She touched him as sensuously as she knew how. She caressed his hard body with her hands, her lips, her tongue. She rubbed herself against his erection, letting him feel her hot wetness on his sensitive maleness. His breath was coming as fast as hers, but he held himself still and let her play.

Some imp of mischief invaded her and her courage swelled. She lowered herself down his legs, looking deep into his eyes. Surprise came into those blue orbs as she slowly, so slowly, lowered her mouth and touched him. He gasped for the first time and power poured through her. She began to tease him, showing the same mercy he'd shown her.

Her tongue caressed the length of him. Her teeth grazed him. Her hand lifted him to give her better access. She slid her tongue under the little shelf where the head met the shaft and went all the way around him. She licked delicately up the sensitive head to the tiny hole and inserted her tongue into it. He gasped and bucked under her. She took just the tip of him into her mouth, sucking gently. His fists clenched, but he held himself still.

She looked up disappointed and realized that he'd regained some measure of control. She slid back up his body and rubbed her own moistness against him again, lifted him and put him at her entrance. He smiled and waited, but she didn't lower herself, just held him there as he had held himself before.

His hand came up and he grasped her hip firmly. She smiled in triumph, expecting him to pull her down, but instead he simply held her in place. His other hand reached up and touched her clitoris, rubbing in a strong, rhythmic motion. She gasped and threw her head back. His hand moved a little away and she instinctively moved after it, lowering herself an inch onto him. She realized what she was doing and pulled back, but her legs were shaking with the strain of holding herself away from him. His hand followed her back up and began to move again.

She rocked forward with the motion of his hand and his shaft slipped into her a bit. She stopped, meaning to pull back, but his hand moved again and she rocked again. Another inch slipped in. His hand led her down until he was completely inside her. He laughed triumphantly and she gave in, pushing herself down as hard as she could, feeling him fill her deeper than he had when he was above her.

She lifted herself and he let her, knowing she had no intention of leaving him now. She thrust herself down again, feeling him fill her completely. He felt so good inside her that she just stayed there, head back, eyes closed, feeling him holding her open.

His hand moved again and his body rocked slightly. Waves of pleasure cascaded through her. He rocked again and his hand moved in time. A tiny orgasm shuddered through her, not fulfilling her, just preparing her for more.

His hands came up to grasp her hips and he rocked harder this time. The movement of his body rubbed her clitoris against the top of his pelvic bone. She moaned with pleasure.

"Yes, Lewis." The words slipped out again. "Oh, yes."

"Yes what?" His words were a whisper. "What do you want, Sarah?"

His body continued its slow rocking motion.

"Move, Lewis. Move inside me. You feel so good inside me." She couldn't believe the things she was saying. She'd never spoken to a lover like this, never been one to verbalize. She'd always been a little ashamed to say the words.

There was no shame here, though. Not in this place he'd brought her to. She had no choice anyway. Nothing was her fault. She was completely free in her captivity. And it felt so good, better than anything ever had before.

His motion increased, the tempo picked up and he began to slide in and out of her. "Like this? Is this what you want?"

"Yes, oh yes. Faster, Lewis."

The tempo increased again.

"Harder," she gasped.

He moved more powerfully, giving her what she asked for. He thrust upwards, hard and deep, filling her completely.

"Your hand, Lewis. Touch me again."

His hand returned and accompanied the deep, hard thrusts.

She was practically sobbing with pleasure as he took her. She felt so free, being above him. She was filled with his maleness, but not covered with his body. His strength and power was here to please her and she used him for her pleasure. She writhed above him, crying out at the feel of him. Her back arched and her body shook as she climaxed. Far away, she heard him cry out as his own body shook with release.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at the ceiling. She still felt the power, though it was fading fast. She looked down at him and saw his face, flushed with passion and the aftershocks of his own orgasm. She smiled slowly. The courage didn't leave her, neither did the imp of mischief. He wouldn't hurt her physically. He'd promised that. He was bound by the rules he'd set for himself. He'd said she would learn to trust him and she had - to an extent.

The imp made her lean down, resting her crossed arms on his chest.

"So. Do I graduate to Lesson Eight?"

His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He looked up at her and his eyes hardened. Fear returned and she wondered if she'd gone too far.

He flipped her beneath him in a quick fluid motion and held her there for a moment. His eyes bored into hers. He studied her face, then closed his eyes. She realized that he was testing her emotional state using that sixth sense the Predators possessed.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her again, then stood up and walked a few feet from the bed. She raised herself on her elbows, looking at him in confusion and a little fear. His eyes were hard and cold again. He watched her for a moment, then left the room.

She sat up, dangling her legs off the side of the bed and waited. Nothing happened. After a few minutes, she stood and went to the bathroom. It was a bit of a mess from their lovemaking.

Lovemaking, she thought. I'd hardly call it that.

She looked in the mirror and saw that she was something of a mess herself. She got into the tub and rinsed herself.

My fourth shower today, she thought. I've never been so clean.

She brushed her hair with a brush she found in the drawer, pushing her hair into it's normal shape. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, studying herself. She looked the same, but she felt so different. She wasn't the same woman who'd gotten out of bed yesterday morning. Not even the same one who got out of bed this morning.

She sighed deeply and looked around. She wasn't going to clean up after him. She left the bathroom and walked over to where the chemise still lay in the middle of the floor. She drew it on because she didn't feel like sitting around in the nude, then went and curled up in the chair. She wished she had her watch so she would know what time it was.

After an indeterminable time - it could have been twenty minutes or two hours, Julia came in carrying a tray. Sarah's stomach growled loudly at the smell.

She stood and followed Julia to the table, not even waiting for her to leave the room before she lifted the cover and attacked the steak. Surprisingly, they'd given her a knife this time.

She looked up after a couple of bites, realizing that Julia hadn't left. She was stripping the bed. Lisa shifted her chair so she could watch. She chewed and swallowed as Julia bundled up the dirty sheets and comforter and threw them by the door, then pulled fresh linens out of one of the dresser drawers. The new sheets were silk also.

That's got to cost a lot, Sarah thought. It made her wonder where Lewis got his money, how his activities were funded.

Julia went into the bathroom and began to tidy up in there as well. Sarah smiled, glad she hadn't done it herself. Julia replaced the soggy bath mat and took away all the used towels. She walked to the door and dumped all the laundry together, then looked around the room.

Her eyes met Sarah's and she had that same, slightly pitying smirk or her face, but there was something else there too. Julia had that same hint of respect that had been in Lewis' eyes. Sarah's eyes suddenly darted to the mirror, then back to Julia's. Julia smiled a knowing smile and Sarah blushed, the flush starting from the base of her neck and working its way up.

Julia gathered the linens together and left the room. Sarah sat, anger roiling in her stomach. She couldn't finish eating. It was one thing for Lewis to use her this way, bad enough that she'd responded. It was intolerable to think of how many people might be watching the show on the other side of the wall.

Lewis walked through the door and came over to the table. He was wearing the silk pajama bottoms again..

The knife was still in her hand. The anger took her and she struck out at him.

He avoided her thrust easily, grabbing her arm and twisting it cruelly behind her. He took the knife away from her and tossed it onto the table, then spun her around so she faced him, twisting both of her arms behind her and pressing her to his chest.

"What brought that on?"

Her eyes flicked to the mirror, then back at him. Her jaw clenched. He glanced at the mirror, then at the door.

"Julia was indiscreet. She'll be chastised for that mistake."

Sarah inhaled sharply at his offhand affirmation of her suspicion. The anger returned and she began to struggle. He held her easily, casually, seemingly with no effort at all. It made her angrier and she struggled harder. He looked down at her with an amused, but respectful expression.

"There's really no point to this, Sarah. You know you can't hurt me."

An angry noise escaped her and she brought her leg up to try to catch him where he lived. He knocked her knee aside and shoved her roughly against the wall. She looked into his eyes, expecting to see anger, but there was none.

She considered biting him, but the anger was beginning to drain away. With it went the feeling of power she'd had before. Tears came into her eyes and she turned her head, trying to escape his gaze. He let her go and stepped back.

She leaned against the wall, trembling as he put her dishes on the tray and took it to the door. He passed it to Julia, then shut the door again. He turned and looked at her.

She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself miserably, avoiding his eyes.

He walked to the bed and drew back the covers, then slid underneath.

"Come to bed, Sarah."

A tear crept down her face. She didn't move.

"Come to bed." His voice was commanding this time and she knew he'd just come and get her if she didn't.

She walked to the far side of the bed and slid under the covers. He pulled her against him and curled around her as he had the night before. The tears slipped from her eyes onto the silk pillow case. They lay together quietly. It was a long time before she slept.

She woke slowly. Her body was relaxed and comfortable, lying on something soft and supportive. She was surrounded by silky softness. She shifted slightly and snuggled more closely against something warm and appealing. She breathed slowly, inhaling a pleasant, musky scent. The smell started something down deep, a warm ache below her belly. That feeling made her suddenly remember where she was. Her eyes snapped open and she realized that she was using Lewis' chest as a pillow. His arms were still around her and their legs were tangled together. She had one arm curled beneath him, the other was wrapped tightly around his waist.

She pulled away from him as though he were a poisonous snake. Which, was a good definition for him, depending on your perspective.

"Good morning." He put the arm closest to her under his head. His eyes were unreadable. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

She didn't respond.

"How about some breakfast?"

She didn't answer.

He reached out and pulled on her arm, drawing her back down.

"Or, we could start the next lesson."

"I'm hungry."

"Not very flattering, but reasonable."

He stood up and went to the door. "Julia, some breakfast, please," he called through the open doorway.

He shut the door and walked toward the table, raising his arms over his head and stretching as he walked. Sarah watched the play of the muscles in his body, studying him.

He had a perfect body. He was tall, about 6 foot, but he looked shorter because he was so compact. His shoulders were broad and his hips were slender. His chest was well-defined, as was his magnificent rear end.

He glanced over at her, slightly amused.

"Perhaps I should be flattered, after all."

Sarah snorted in irritation. That empathy thing was really getting annoying.

She threw back the covers and went into the bathroom. She stayed in there longer than absolutely necessary, trying to decide what to do next.

She'd made a good start with her little plan yesterday. At least until she'd gotten sidetracked by the idea of someone watching her. She still wasn't overly pleased by that idea, but there was nothing she could do about it. There wasn't anything she could do about Lewis, either, except make the best of it. She smiled to herself. Pragmatism and practicality at its worst.

So, she thought as she looked in the mirror, maybe it's time to take the next step. What is the next step, she wondered.

Her stomach growled and she decided food was the first order of business. Maybe she'd figure out what to do while she ate.

She walked back into the bedroom area. Lewis was sitting at the table with a tray of food in front of him. He'd made himself a plate, but hadn't started to eat.

"Do you only eat if I do?" she asked sharply.

"To a certain extent. I have to work at your pace, adjust to your rhythms."

She looked at him in surprise. She hadn't expected that answer.

He gestured to the food and she served herself a plate of scrambled eggs, some fresh fruit and an English muffin. She smiled at the offerings.

He gave her an inquisitive look as he took a bite.

"Julia remembered what I asked for yesterday," she told him.

"Of course."

She took a bite and chewed slowly, wondering how much information he'd be willing to give her.

"Did you know that I like clam chowder?"

He smiled. "Naturally."

She took another bite. "How long have you been watching me?"

His look was amused. "We've been watching everyone who works for the Agency ever since I escaped."

"But we moved our headquarters."

"You didn't move the people. Sloan Parker still lives in the same apartment. We simply followed her to work one morning. It was ridiculously easy. I'm surprised Tom permitted it."

Sarah remembered how Tom had argued for more security precautions. Attwood had said that with all the APBs out on him, Lewis must have left the country. Tom told Attwood he was wrong, but Attwood ignored him. He should have listened.

Sarah decided not to tell Lewis how little authority Tom really had at the Agency.

"Why did you pick me?" she asked.

Lewis continued to eat without answering.

She thought for a moment. "What was Lesson One?"

He gave her a direct look. "You know the answer."

The orgasm, she thought. The fact that he could force her to have one.

He was still looking at her. "And Lesson Two?"

She met his eyes, but didn't say the words. Knowing I would ask, she thought.

He cocked his head to the side and studied her. "Lesson Three?" he asked softly.

She blushed. The invitation, she thought.

He nodded slowly. "You were right, Sarah. You are a very intelligent woman. They're wasting you at the Agency."

She blushed again and took another bite of scrambled eggs. They ate silently for a while.

Another question occurred to her. "How did you know that I knew the answers?"

"I felt it. If you didn't know, you would feel inquisitive or unsure."

"So it's not just knowing what it means when a person feels a certain way, it's knowing what it means if they don't." She said it slowly, thinking about it. "What if I were just really comfortable with not knowing the answer?"

He looked at her for a moment, then laughed. "Then I might not catch it. Most people aren't, though."

"No, probably not." She thought for a moment. "Doesn't it bother you? Never being able to shut it out, I mean?"

He shrugged. "Do you always notice background noises?"

"No. But sometimes they're really irritating."

"So are some people."

She smiled and finished the food on her plate. She speared a couple more pieces of fruit from the tray. She closed her eyes as she bit into the cantaloupe. It was perfectly ripe. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with a little smile on his face.

"I begin to understand why you're moving so quickly," he said. "You were a sensual creature to begin with."

She blushed and swallowed. It was so easy to forget for a few moments why she was here.

She put her fork down and wiped her mouth. He followed her lead, then stood up and went to the door.

"Julia, please take the food away."

Julia came in and cleaned away the dishes without looking at Sarah.

"Why didn't you just wave at her through the window?" Sarah asked bitterly.

"No one is watching us, Sarah."

"Yeah, right."

"You have my word."

She looked up and studied his face.

"I ordered Julia not to watch us."

"Yeah, but will she listen to you?"

He just looked at her.

"Never mind. Stupid question."

He chuckled and walked over to the bed, slipping the pajama bottoms off his hips and throwing the bedcovers back. He lay down on his back and looked at her.

"Why don't you join me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

He didn't answer. She sighed and went over to the bed, sitting cross-legged beside him.

"What would you like to do?" he asked.

"Is 'nothing' an option?"

He looked at her steadily.

"Can't we at least let our food settle?" Her voice sounded plaintive, even to her own ears.

His eyes softened a bit. "Lie down. I'll give you another massage."

She put out her hands as he started to rise. "Um, how about I give you one instead?"

She knew if he put his hands on her, he'd bring her to desire again fairly quickly. Of course, touching him wasn't much better, but at least she's have a little control.

He lay back with a curious expression on his face. "All right.."

He rolled over on his stomach and folded his arms to make a pillow.

She reached out and touched his shoulders.

"Sarah." His tone was admonishing.

She sighed and got up to straddle his hips, sitting on his taut buttocks. This was definitely a little too close for comfort, but she didn't have a lot of options. She didn't understand how just the touch of him could arouse her so quickly.

She reached down and began to work the muscles under his skin. They were tight, but not overly tense. He was very relaxed.

"That feels good." His tone was intimate and a flush of desire ran through her.

She threw caution to the wind and decided to ask. "How do you do that?"

He didn't pretend not to understand. "Years of training."

"Did you train yourself of did someone teach you?"

"It's part of the program. Tom knows the same techniques."

Her eyebrows rose. She knew for a fact that Sloan hadn't benefited from that training yet. Maybe she should tell Sloan to stop waiting for Tom to make the first move. Assuming she ever talked to Sloan again.

"Has he used them on Dr. Parker yet?"

"I thought it was empathy, not telepathy."

He chuckled. "I wasn't reading your thoughts, or even your feelings. I was just curious."

"Why do you think he hasn't?"

"It was fairly obvious when I had her that Tom hadn't, shall we say, initiated her yet."

"That's a polite way to put it."

"As you said, there's no reason to be rude about things."

Sarah laughed. If he wasn't a sociopathic killer from a species that preyed on humans, she might actually be enjoying herself.

"Would you mind working on my lower back, please?"

She shifted her attentions down his spine. The muscles were loose and flexible.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but the muscles have been under a bit of strain. Different forms of exercise stress different sets of muscles."

She stopped working as the meaning of his statement set in. She shook her head. This man was unbelievable. Her hands resumed their movement.

"Why haven't Tom and Dr. Parker consummated their relationship?" he asked.

She wasn't sure whether she should answer that. Sloan was her friend.

"Why do you want to know?" she countered.

"Tom was my best student." The muscles in his back tensed slightly, then released. "He betrayed me because of Dr. Parker, yet, he hasn't claimed her. I'm curious as to why."

Sarah considered the question. "Tom and Sloan are attracted to each other, that's true. Tom didn't betray you, though. He changed the way he thought about the world. He didn't leave your organization for Sloan, but because he believes that what you are doing is wrong."

Lewis made no comment, so Sarah worked harder on the muscles of his lower back.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought. I'm helping him relax from having turned me into his sex slave.

She leaned forward and stole a glance at his face. His eyes were closed. She pressed gently, but firmly, working out every knot she found, hoping she could put him to sleep.

After several minutes, that hope was dashed when he spoke.

"You're quite good at this, Sarah. You use your hands well. But then, I noticed that yesterday."

She blushed a bit, remembering what she had done yesterday.

"I'd like to feel your hands on me again," he said.

"You are," she said, pretending to misunderstand. "Right now."

"You know what I mean."

She continued the massage.

"Well..." he prompted.

"Is that an order?" she asked.

He was silent for several seconds. "No," he said finally. "Just a request."

Her hands faltered as she considered what he'd just done. He'd put her in the position of doing something for him, something he said he wanted. Of course, it was still about sex, but it seemed like movement forward. He had asked, after all, not ordered her as he had yesterday.

She figured this was probably just another move in his sexual chess game, but she decided she should allow herself to be led into the trap. Sometimes you had to sacrifice a pawn to capture the king. Besides, she wanted to touch him again. She wanted to feel him touch her and hold her. She very much wanted to feel him inside her again. She was becoming aroused just thinking about it.

Her hands slowed and she changed the tone of the massage. Instead of trying to make him relax, she began trying to make him tense - sexually, anyway. Her fingers drifted over his back, tracing abstract patterns on his flesh. She leaned down and trailed kisses down his spine, across the back of his neck and around his shoulders. She lay down on top of him and slid her hands under his chest, nibbling on his ears.

He turned, lifting one arm and she slid down beside him. They were lying face to face, on their sides. Her hands traveled slowly down his chest, fingers trailing circles around his nipples. His hands caressed her gently over the chemise, not demanding, just contributing to the overall enjoyment of the moment. She met his eyes and her hands traveled down, over his hard, flat stomach. She stopped and tickled his belly button, then dropped her hands lower.

One hand grasped his hard shaft, the other dipped down and cupped, caressing his scrotum. She moved her hand over the hard length of his penis, miming the motion she'd seen men use on themselves. His breath came harder, but his hands stayed gentle and undemanding.

She continued to hold his eyes as she leaned in and kissed him. His lips parted and she found the invitation too appealing to resist. She slid her tongue around his lips, dipping into his mouth and exploring. He turned his head slightly to give her better access, and she slipped her tongue completely into his mouth.

His arms came gently around her and pulled her closer. Her hands moved up and her arms circled him. Their legs intertwined and they shared a long, passionate kiss, neither one giving or taking more than the other. When the kiss broke, she was trembling, but not from fear. She didn't feel overwhelmed by his sexuality. She felt in tune with him for the first time.

Their noses circled each other in a soft caress. His lips brushed over her face and traveled down to her ear, then back up to her mouth in another long kiss. When they came up for air, he pulled back slightly and looked at her.

"What do you want, Sarah? What can I do for you?"

She looked at him and remembered the feel of his mouth on her. She hadn't been able to enjoy it the two times he'd done it. She wanted to feel those soft lips, that incredible tongue touch her sex again. She wanted to feel his beard tickle her thigh.

"I want to feel your mouth on me," she told him softly.

"Then what?" he asked.

She hadn't thought that far ahead.

His fingers toyed with a lock of her hair. "Is there any position you especially like? Or one you've always wanted to try?"

One of her secret fantasies came into her mind. He smiled gently, obviously feeling the change in her arousal.

"Tell me."

She couldn't believe it, but she wanted to tell him.

"There's a position one of my friends told me about..."

His eyebrows lifted in interest.

"The man is on his knees, and the woman has her back to him, but they're both straight up and down."

"I know it. What interests you about it?"

She blushed. "My friend said that you have to be able to trust the man you're with not to drop you. She said it's very physically demanding for the man because he has to completely support your weight and be able to move at the same time. I figure, since you were doing that yesterday..."

She could not believe she'd just said that.

"What else?"

There was more, but she was embarrassed to tell him. It fit too well with what he was doing to her.

He leaned in and gently traced his mouth around hers and down her chin. He went down her neck, then back up to her ear. "Tell me," he breathed. It wasn't a demand.

Sarah's voice was barely a whisper. "My friend said that it's like being suspended in space. You've got nothing to hold on to. The man is in complete control and you have to trust him completely."

"And since I'm already in complete control of you..." His voice was still a sensuous whisper in her ear. The words changed the focus of her need. What was an ache between her legs shifted further up. The pulsing in her sex increased and she felt the blood rushing down, sensitizing everything, preparing for him to take her again.

His hands caressed her as he slid off the bed, turning her and drawing her closer. He pulled her so her hips were on the edge of the bed, her legs draped over his shoulders again. He brushed his chin across her inner thighs, and she shivered at the feel of his soft beard touching her. He met her eyes, like the first time and waited till she had to release the breath she was holding. Then his tongue touched her. The soft, silky feel of it was amazing to her and she arched her back to give him better access. She spread her legs as wide as possible, drawing them up on the bed on either side of her body.

He raised himself higher and pushed her knees down, dipping his head to taste her again and again. She gasped and her hips began to move under his teasing tongue. She couldn't hold herself still, but his mouth found her, no matter how she moved, driving her wild.

Just as she hit the edge of a climax, he stopped and pulled her down to the floor with him. He pulled her chemise up over her head and she helped him, trying to get thing out of the way so she could feel him. She reached for him and gave a little moan of betrayal when he stopped her. She had completely forgotten what they were going to try.

He moved her away from the bed and shifted himself until he was behind her. She remembered and felt a rush of desire between her thighs. Her legs felt weak and she wobbled.

"We're almost there," he whispered from behind her.

"Why not on the bed?" she asked.

"It gives too much. Besides, you wanted to be suspended in space. You can't do that if you have the headboard to hold onto."

He pushed her into an upright kneeling position, spreading her legs wide, then positioned himself under her.

His hand slipped up and caressed her sex. She moved back against him, following that hand as it led her back toward his body.

"You want this, don't you?" he asked.

She felt the tip of him at her opening. She tried to reach for something, but there was nothing to grab hold of, just the feel of him behind her, probing. His hands were on her hips and she covered them with her own, holding onto his strong wrists.

He shifted a little, spreading both their legs wider, then pulled her down onto him. He wasn't very deep inside her and, for a moment she was disappointed. Then he spread the cheeks of her ass and moved a little. He pulled her knees further apart and she came down and felt him completely inside her.

She gasped.

One of his arms went around her waist, holding her tightly. The other wrapped around her rib cage, his hand caressing first one breast, then the other. He was warm and solid against her back and she pressed against him. His lips touched the back of her neck and traveled around to her ear, licking the lobe. She dropped her head back on his shoulder, exposing her neck to him completely. He nibbled down the length of it to her shoulder, then back up to her ear. He still hadn't moved.

The arm around her waist lifted her slightly and she whimpered as he pulled part way out of her.

"I'm not leaving you." His voice was husky in her ear.

He began to move, thrusting into her. The motion pushed her upwards, leaving her suspended in midair except for his arms around her. She grabbed his arms, a little afraid.

"I won't drop you, Sarah. Trust me."

Her grip lessened. He wouldn't drop her. He'd take her to the heights of pleasure.

Her head dropped back again, and her hands began to caress his, the only part of him she could reach. His movements became stronger, taking on a regular rhythm.

"Do you like it? Tell me, Sarah. I want to hear you say it."

"Lewis." She heard herself say his name the way a lover would, drawing out each syllable, rolling them on her tongue. She didn't care. "Oh, God, Lewis. It feels incredible!"

He moved harder, faster. She urged him on with her voice, crying out his name, panting it with every breath.

She felt the first shuddering of orgasm. Just before the pleasure took her, she heard him groan and whisper her name.

They were still locked together. She was supported on his knees, her head on his shoulder. His arms were clasped around her so tightly, she thought he'd never let go. Her arms were wrapped over his and she could feel his cheek resting against hers. Her eyes were closed.

She couldn't believe how good she felt, how safe, how secure. At that moment, it didn't matter that it was how he wanted her to feel. Some part of her mind suggested idly that it was all an act on his part. Even whispering her name in the heat of passion was just a line in a play to him.

She didn't care. Not at this moment. Later, she'd worry about it. Like Scarlett O'Hara, she'd think about it tomorrow.

He breathed slowly beside her ear, in and out, nestling her more closely against him.

He knows what you're feeling, that tiny piece of her mind reminded her. He can manipulate you with that information. You have to find a way to feel what he wants you to without letting that control you.

Her eyes drifted open, and she looked up at the ceiling. She didn't want to move. She felt too good, too relaxed.

He chuckled in her ear. "I can't stay this way forever, you know."

She sighed. "I don't want to move."

"Let me move you, then."

His arms loosened and she made a tiny noise of protest at losing their comforting support. The arm around her ribcage shifted behind her back as he pressed her forward.

"I thought you were going to do all the work," she protested as her weight came down on her knees. He still supported her with his hands.

"Lazy," he accused. In a fluid motion, he rose to a crouch and gathered her up in his arms.

She was amazed again at his sheer physical strength. She curled her arms around his neck as he stood up and rested her head on his shoulder again.

"Are you going to go to sleep?" he asked.

"I already am," she murmured.

He chuckled and laid her down on the bed. He pulled the covers up and slid underneath, then pulled her against him. She curled herself around him and put her head on his shoulder. Then she closed her eyes and sighed. Tomorrow, she told herself again. I'll worry about it tomorrow.

When she opened her eyes again, her stomach was growling at her. She stretched luxuriously and realized that Lewis wasn't in bed with her anymore. She didn't know what time it was, but it felt as though several hours had passed. She felt rested.

She didn't usually sleep late in the mornings, or take naps. Still, she hadn't slept particularly well the last two nights. She'd probably needed to catch up.

She yawned and stretched again, enjoying the feel of silk against her body. As cages went, this one was certainly well-gilded.

She sat up and looked around. Lewis was sitting in the wing back chair watching her. Her heart skipped a beat. Again, she couldn't tell if it was fear of desire. Probably both. She wondered suddenly if she'd ever feel the latter without the former again.

She looked at him without speaking and he returned her gaze.

He was training her, schooling her for some purpose of his own. Not just her body, but her mind was being reshaped to his plan. Her eyes hardened.

"It's not going to work. I'm not going to let you do this to me." She spoke quietly. She wasn't angry and the fear was minimal. It was simply a statement of belief.

He stood and walked over to the bed. His movement was fluid and animalistic again. He moved deliberately, sensuously. His eyes never left hers.

He drew the covers back, exposing her body, but his eyes didn't look away from hers. His hands came down on either side of her, and he slowly, very slowly, laid his nude body down on top of hers, letting her feel every inch of him.

Her breathing quickened. She couldn't stop her body's response to him. She didn't try. Instead, she met his passion with her own, raising her arms and welcoming him. Her legs spread and she wrapped one of them around his.

His nostrils flared and passion burned in his eyes. She didn't know whether she kissed him or he kissed her. It didn't matter.

The kiss was slow and sensual. His hands moved over her, rousing her further. She returned his caresses, rousing him along with her. Her eyes closed and she gave herself to the sensations.

Her legs spread wider, inviting him, and he moved between them. They kissed deeply and continued to touch each other. Her hips moved against him, and his moved in reply. She drew her knees up, preparing to accept him, to hold him inside her.

He stopped.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down at her, his face unreadable.

She looked up at him not understanding. He continued to gaze down at her. He seemed to be waiting for something, but she didn't know what.

After a moment, he rolled off the bed and left the room.

She lay there, stunned. What happened? Why did he leave?

Her body was fully roused and waiting. This was what he wanted. Why did he leave?

Understanding hit. This was the next lesson.

He'd taught her that he could give her incredible pleasure. He'd shown her the heights to which he could take her. He'd gotten her body to respond, not just to his touch, but to his mere presence, his voice, his breath. He'd brought her to the point of fully participating in, even initiating, to a certain extent, their sexual interaction.

Now, he roused her - and left.

The next lesson. Unfulfilled desire.

Her breathing became ragged as she realized what he could do to her. This was how he controlled. By refusing. He would refuse until she begged. Until she promised to do anything if he would only touch her.

She could feel the need burning in her body, making it hard to think.

She threw back the covers and went into the bathroom, ruthlessly turning the shower to its coldest setting and putting herself under the stream of water.

It helped. She pulled down the mini-shower head and turned the stream of water between her legs. She yelped as the cold hit the sensitized skin.

The bathroom door opened and he walked in. He leaned against the wall, posing provocatively again.

"Does that help?"

His voice dripped with sensuality. The very question, the implications of it roused her again.

She turned off the water. "Not particularly."

He smiled arrogantly, confident.

She stepped out of the tub and moved close to him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. She'd learned from him all right. She used the same sensual tones he had. She glanced down his body, her eyes moving slowly, coming to rest on his erection. Her eyes traveled back up to meet his. She brushed the tip of her finger down his shaft, still holding his eyes. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, but he didn't move.

She laughed, low in her throat. This knife cut both ways.

She reached for a towel and slowly began to dry her body. She took her time, rubbing the towel over her breasts, cradling them in hands covered with rough terry cloth. She put one foot up on the toilet and posed herself while she drew the towel over her legs and between her thighs. She took a moment to rub herself, closing her eyes in sensual pleasure. Then she sauntered past him with a provocative smile and went back into the bedroom.

She walked around the bed to the far side and leaned down to the floor. She could feel his eyes on her. She picked up the chemise by the slender shoulder straps and casually drew it over her head, letting it fall down her body. The silk felt wonderful against her skin.

She picked up his pajama bottoms and laid them over the footboard.

"Yours, I believe."

She walked to the head of the bed and crawled in, moving in the same animalistic manner he'd used, then curled herself up on the pillows and looked at him.

He stood for a moment in the doorway of the bathroom, then moved toward her. She smiled slowly.

"Are you sure you want to try this again, Lewis. How much control do you have?"

That was a mistake. She knew it as soon as she said it. Control was his life. He would never admit to not possessing enough.

His eyes narrowed and he slid onto the bed. He raised himself onto his knees so was looking down at her. She reached out and slid one hand down his chest, toward his erection.

His hands reached out and lightly caressed her breasts through the silk chemise. She closed her eyes in pleasure and reached for him with her other hand.

His fingers went around her wrists, and she opened her eyes as he drew her arms behind her.

"Can't take it?" she asked in a husky whisper.

He almost took the challenge. He paused and looked deep into her eyes. Then he pulled two of the silken bonds loose and looped them around her wrists.

She could bring her hands to the side of her body, but that was as far as the cords reached. It was worse than if he'd simply bound them behind her because she could almost reach him. She wondered who had designed this pleasure torture chamber.

His hands moved back to her breasts, kneading them through the chemise. The feel of his strong hands through the soft silk was incredibly sensual. Her eyes closed and her head tipped back slightly. Her hands strained against their bonds, trying to touch him.

Your hands aren't your only weapon, she thought. You still have a voice.

"Lewis." Her mouth caressed his name. She leaned into his caress, pressing her breasts into his hands.

"God, Lewis. That feels wonderful. I love to feel your hands on me."

Her eyes looked into his and her lips parted at the desire she saw burning there.

"Touch me lower, Lewis." She shifted her hips and spread her legs so she was kneeling with her sex completely exposed to him. "Touch me, Lewis."

His hands moved down her body, sliding over the silk chemise, down onto her thighs. He slid his hands up, pushing the silk out of the way. His hands went around her, kneading her buttocks, then slid back over her hips. One hand dipped into the cleft between her legs, stopping to cover her mons for a moment. She could feel the heat of his fingers near her clitoris.

"Touch me, Lewis," she whispered huskily.

His hand moved lightly, caressing her. She moaned with pleasure, rubbing herself against his hand. He didn't let her control the motion, though. He pulled back, never giving her enough. He held her suspended in a state of need.

"Lewis." Her breathing was harsh, but her voice was still a sensual purr. "I want to feel you inside me, Lewis." She shifted her hips again, spreading her legs wider and giving his hand even better access. She resisted the urge to close her thighs around his hand.

Her head dropped back in sensual pleasure. He leaned closer and she could feel his breath on her throat.

"Yes, Lewis. Use your mouth. Let me feel your tongue on me."

His lips pressed lightly against the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. His mouth traveled up the column of her throat, barely touching her. His tongue flicked out, teasing her. She could feel his hot breath as his mouth moved over her. His hand still moved between her legs.

She moaned and gave herself to the pleasure. She stopped seeking a higher level, just experienced the joy he was giving her. She continued to urge him on with her words, making requests which he granted unless he thought they might lead to her fulfillment.

The need was still there, a dull ache in her vagina, an emptiness begging to be filled. She ignored it and focused on the waves of sensation coursing through her body with every touch, every caress, every breath that touched her body.

"Oh, Lewis." It was a slow sensual moan.

His hands faltered.

"Lewis." She drew his name out again, playing with the syllables. "Don't stop. It feels marvelous." Her voice and tone reflected the place she had reached - a place of pleasure, beyond need.

His hands stopped and she opened her eyes and looked into his. There was no fear in her, no anger, no triumph, no power. Just calm and peace, except for that one tiny aching need that seemed so far way.

He looked at her, then closed his eyes. His posture took on that odd, listening stance again. He was listening to her emotions.

His eyes opened and she could see surprise and confusion there. She was obviously not where he expected her to be.

He sat back on his haunches and looked at her. She looked back.

She wanted him to touch her again, but it wasn't an aching need, just a sensual desire.

He studied her for a few minutes, then reached behind her and released her hands. He got off the bed and left the room.

She breathed steadily, slowly. She wanted him. She knew he wouldn't give himself now, though.

The thought struck her that she might no longer have value to him. She didn't feel fear, just the tiniest portion of regret. He'd shown her so much about pleasure. She didn't want to die yet.

A few minutes later, Julia came into the room carrying some clothes. She set them on the bed beside Sarah.

"Get dressed," Julia ordered.

Sarah looked down and saw that they were her own clothes, laundered and folded. She got out of the bed and pulled the chemise over her head. She pulled on her underwear and blue jeans, then put on her shirt and tucked it in. She looked at the chemise, then took it off the bed, folded it small and stuffed it into her pocket.

Julia smiled slightly, but said nothing. She stepped back and indicated the door. Sarah walked out and saw Lewis standing there, wearing black jeans and a black turtleneck.

God, he looks good in that, she thought.

His face was unreadable. He grasped her upper arm and led her out of the house to a nondescript brown car. He put her in the passenger side, then went around to the driver's side and got in. She noticed the way his gaze darted around. She was sure he noticed everything in the street. He leaned over and handed her a blindfold.

"Tie this over your eyes."

She complied without argument and they drove without speaking.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked in a soft voice.

"Back to the Agency."

She considered that for a moment.

"Do I still have value?"

"Some. Not what I expected. You are still useful."

"Useful how?"

"To send a message."

She wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. She had an image in her mind from the Godfather. A dead fish wrapped in a newspaper. Luca Brazza sleeps with the fishes. Still, why would he blindfold her if he intended to kill her?

A long while later, he spoke to her again. "You can remove the blindfold now."

She took it off and blinked as light flooded her eyes. She looked around and saw that they were a few blocks from the Agency.

He drove down the street and parked without hesitation right across from the building. He waited.

A few moments later, Tom, Sloan and Attwood came out. Lewis got out of the car and came around to the passenger side. He opened the door and extended his hand to help her out. She didn't need the help, but the message to the audience was clear.

He grasped her upper arm again, holding her near him and looked across the street. His eyes met Tom's and something seemed to be passing between them, though neither one spoke.

"Go," he finally said, releasing her arm and giving her a little push.

She walked across the street, her speed increasing with each step. She reached Sloan, who put her arms around her and hugged her.

"Are you all right, Sarah?" Sloan asked.

She couldn't speak, but she nodded.

Sloan's look was concerned. Sarah turned and looked back across the street. Lewis had already driven away. She was safe. She looked back at Sloan and started to cry.

They put her in one of the interrogation rooms. She answered their questions as vaguely as possible.

He'd taken her Wednesday morning, before noon. She was surprised when they told her that it was only Friday evening. She couldn't believe it had taken such a short time to totally change the way she looked at the world.

No, she didn't know why he'd taken her.

No, he hadn't hurt her.

No, he hadn't asked her any questions.

She didn't know why he'd taken her.

She didn't know what he'd wanted her to do.

What had happened in that bedroom, she kept to herself. Sloan was looking at her with a slightly confused, but concerned expression. Sloan knew something was wrong. Given her own experience with Lewis, she probably had a suspicion or two.

After a while, Sloan and Attwood left the room. Sarah could see them through the glass window, talking together.

Tom poured a cup of coffee, then knelt down by her chair and handed it to her.

"They'll never trust you again, you know."

"I know," she whispered. "Just like they don't really trust you."

"Sloan does," Tom told her.

"Will she ever trust me again?"

"She still does," he said, with emphasis on 'she'.

Sarah hoped it was true.

She looked down at the cup in her hand and took a sip. "Thank you," she said indicating the coffee.

He nodded.

"They should have listened to you," she told him.

"I'm sorry you had to pay the price for their arrogance." He cocked his head and studied her. He didn't close his eyes, but she knew he was testing her emotional state the same way Lewis had.

She met his eyes. He was the only one who might understand and she wanted answers.

"I don't understand what he wanted from me."

"He wanted to control you. To turn you into an agent for him."

She considered that for a moment. It made sense. She could see how a woman would do anything for him after a while. She wondered why he'd given up so quickly. After all, he'd planned to keep her for a week.

"It wasn't working," Tom said.

She looked at him and realized he'd answered her unspoken question.

"Why not? Why couldn't he break me?"

A trace of a smile crossed Tom's lips. "He wasn't trying to break you. Pain breaks, pleasure controls."

She flushed. "How did you know he used pleasure?"

His nostrils flared. "I can smell his scent on you. And your own scent is very strong."

She blushed deeper, remembering that she hadn't showered before dressing.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Tom said. "Lewis is a master of all forms of pleasure. You could not help but respond."

She glanced at Sloan and Attwood who were still talking in the other room. "Are you going to tell them?"

"Not unless you want me to."

She considered that. Perhaps she should let Tom tell them so they'd be prepared, but who could really be prepared for such an experience?

"I have told them of Lewis' various lesson plans. They already know in the abstract."

She looked into Tom's eyes. "That's what he called them. Lessons. We skipped one, though."

"Which one?"

"Lesson Four."

He seemed to be considering.

"What is Lesson Four?" she asked.

"Making you accustomed to his touch. It usually takes several days. Why did you skip it?"

She blushed again. This was embarrassing, but maybe he could help her figure out what happened. "Lesson's Five and Six happened sort of spontaneously during Lesson Three."

Tom looked surprised. "Did you work through all the others on your way to Lesson Twelve?"

"I don't know what the rest are."

"Lesson Seven is participation under duress. Lesson Eight is voluntary participation after he initiates a session. For Lesson Nine, you turn to him for comfort."

"We skipped that one."

His eyebrow rose. "Lesson Ten, you initiate a session. Lesson Eleven you initiate and are refused. Lesson Twelve, you learn that you will receive pleasure only if you obey him."

She nodded. It all made sense. "I never really initiated anything, but I was definitely participating. He did refuse me, though." She blushed deeper.

"And did you beg for his touch?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. I was enjoying what he was doing. The need was there, but not overwhelming me."

"Interesting. The lessons you skipped were the less tangible steps to complete control over you. By skipping those, you reached a place where he could not control you."

She met his eyes and saw that same respect that had been in Lewis and Julia.

"The only choices he had left were to only break you or kill you," Tom said.

"Wouldn't it have worked eventually if he'd kept me longer?"

"He must have believed it would not, or else he would never have released you."

She sat for a moment digesting the information.

"Why not just drug me, the way he did you?" she asked.

"He knew I would sense the change in you if he programmed you any other way."

"Wouldn't you notice the change from this form of... programming?"

"Perhaps, but it's not as likely."

"What about the guilt?"

"What guilt?"

"Wouldn't you have sensed guilt because I was betraying the Agency."

That tiny smiled played about Tom's lips again. "You would not have felt guilt, Sarah. By the time Lewis was finished training you, you would only have felt the need for him."

"Wouldn't that have been noticeable?"

Tom's smile broadened. "We are accustomed to perceiving sexual need in human females."

Sarah decided not to pursue the possibilities inherent in that statement. Tom could mean that human women always responded to Predator males, or he could mean that human women were generally unfulfilled sexually. She really didn't think she wanted to know which it was. Maybe it was both.

"He said he was sending a message by bringing me here and letting me go," she told him. "What was the messsage?"

Tom shrugged. "Many things. The fact that he is still here. The fact that he knows how to find us. The knowledge that none of us is safe from him."

"Not the value he expected, but still useful," she quoted.

Tom nodded.

Sloan and Attwood came back into the room.

"Tom and Sloan will take you home, Sarah." Attwood wouldn't meet her eyes. "I think you need some rest. Go ahead and take your vacation. In fact, take a little longer then you'd planned. We'll talk in a couple of weeks."

Sarah's eyes met Tom's. He was right, they'd never trust her. They probably wouldn't let her go, either. She was a risk now.

She sat quietly, sipping coffee in a little cafe, staring out at the street, not really seeing anything. Eight days since he'd let her go and her body still wanted to feel him again.

She sighed.

She wore the chemise at night. It made her dream about him. Maybe she should get rid of it. Tom had told her that the feelings would fade if she let them.

"Sarah."

She knew the voice, but it couldn't possibly be him. She looked up and Lewis was standing beside her table.

"May I join you?"

She nodded, unable to speak. That same feeling, a cross between fear and desire passed through her.

He took off his sunglasses and she looked into his beautiful, blue eyes.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Do you care?" she countered

He smiled, a little wistfully. "Oddly enough, I do. Have you recovered?"

She wasn't sure she ever would, but she nodded. There was no reason to tell him the truth. She was so numb, she doubted he'd know she was lying.

"Did Tom help you?"

"We've talked a lot. He's helping me understand..."

He interrupted her with a direct look. "Did Tom *help* you?"

She blushed and looked away. "No. He offered, but I wouldn't do that to Sloan."

They sat quietly for a moment. When she looked back at him, he was scanning the street.

"You're not comfortable out here in the open like this, are you?" she asked.

"Too visible. Too many avenues of attack."

"Wouldn't you feel danger coming?"

"You can't be too careful."

They were quiet again. Finally she sighed. Despite the fact that he'd sought her out, he obviously wasn't going to volunteer anything.

"Why are you here, Lewis?"

He looked into her eyes. "To ask a favor."

"From me?" She was surprised.

He smiled. "You're the only one who can grant it."

"What?" she asked curiously.

"Will you sleep with me?"

She stared at him for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"

"I would like to have you, just once, of your own free will."

She just looked at him, then the irony of it struck her and she laughed. "Why?"

"You have very strong passion, Sarah. I'd like to feel it once when I can simply enjoy it."

She looked at him. It was certainly the last thing she'd expected.

He was serious, though. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted this. Whether he was sincere about the reason, who could say?

She thought about it. She could hurt him as he'd hurt her. He'd come to her and made himself vulnerable by asking something of her.

On the other hand, Tom had told her the feelings would fade if she let them. Maybe she could use this as a means, something to give her some closure.

She took a deep breath. "Will you give me your word that you'll let me go afterwards?"

"You have it."

She took another deep breath and nodded. This was for herself, not for him.

He stood and extended his hand down to her. She took it and allowed him to raise her to her feet.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

He nodded across the street to a swank hotel "I have a room there."

"You're pretty sure of yourself."

He looked back at her. "I didn't know whether you'd agree, I was just prepared for it."

She chuckled. "You don't look like a boy scout."

He laughed quietly and they started walking. They walked across the street, through the lobby of the hotel and into the elevator in silence. Lewis pressed the button for the seventh floor. The doors opened and they walked down the hall.

What are you doing, Sarah asked herself. This man kidnapped you, molested you. How can you go with him, give him your body again?

She didn't care, though. She wanted him. He wanted her. And she needed this. Maybe it would soothe the ache of unfulfilled desire she still felt when she thought of him.

He stopped in front of a room, 716, took a key card out of his pocket and opened the door. The room smelled like all hotels, too clean, almost antiseptic. She walked in and he shut the door behind him and stood, looking at her.

She laughed nervously and looked away. "This is strange."

"You can leave anytime. I don't want anything you don't want to give. Not this time."

She looked back at him. He was still magnificent, but somehow, he was just a man now. No longer the God of pleasure, but a mortal, an angel fallen from grace.

She walked over and put her hands on his shoulders. She studied his eyes and inhaled deeply, replacing the smell of the room with the scent of him. She pressed her body against his and put her arms around his neck.

"Touch me, Lewis," she whispered against his mouth.

His arms came around her and his mouth moved against hers. She sighed and opened to him.

They undressed each other slowly, caressing and exploring as though they'd never known each other's bodies before. In a way, they hadn't.

They lay down on the bed together and he held her closely, his hands moving over her back in a light caress. She kissed his neck and ran her hands down his chest. He sighed and brought his mouth down to hers. Their mouths explored, testing, tasting each other. They moved together, giving and receiving, neither one taking or controlling. They touched each other, moving with one mind, one thought, one desire toward the conclusion they both wanted.

The pleasure washed over her, but it didn't control her as it had before. She could tell he had no desire to control her now.

She let out a slow sensual moan of pleasure as he put his hand between her legs. She pressed against him, responding to his ardent demands and making her own.

She spread her legs and pulled him down to her. Her arms went around his waist, her hands playing over his beautiful buttocks. He levered himself up on his hands and smiled down at her. She smiled back and pulled gently on his hips.

He slid into her slowly. His head went back and a soft sound of pleasure escaped him. He held himself still for several moments, then lowered himself and kissed her slowly. They kissed and touched for a long time, until the feelings built to the point that they both had to move. He pulled out of her as slowly as he'd entered her, then pressed in again.

Tears stood in her eyes as she watched him. His breath was ragged. His eyes were closed and he was moving so very slowly, really letting himself feel each glide and stroke. She suddenly realized how lonely he must be, never having any real interaction with anyone.

She reached up and kissed the strong column of his throat, and felt the vibration as he made another sound of passion. Her hands caressed his back, her mouth moved over his neck and they were joined in a fusion of heat between their legs.

His breath came harder and so did hers as the pleasure took them both. She felt him tense and knew he was ready, but he made himself wait, continuing to move, bringing her with him. Her head fell back and she breathed his name to herself. The first shudders of orgasm took her and he moved once more, driving her higher before loosing himself inside her.

When it was over, they held each other for a long time. Eventually, she drew back and brushed her hand across his face. He drew it to his mouth and kissed her palm.

"I'll never see you again, will I?" she asked.

"Probably not."

She swallowed hard. It hurt, but it was healing.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For today. For teaching me things I never knew about myself. For the lesson."

He didn't respond for a moment, just looked deep into her eyes.

"You're welcome."

She touched his face once more, then got off the rumpled bed and dressed. He lay there, watching her.

She put her hand on the doorknob and turned back for one last look. He was supporting himself on one arm again. She saw him with a kind of double vision - the God of Pleasure and the fallen angel. Lord, he was beautiful. But he was alone, and he always would be. She might never find the level of passion she'd shared with him, but companionship and love were things she could aspire to in her life.

"Be well, Lewis," she said, meaning it with all her heart.

"And you, Sarah.

She smiled at him and left the room.

© Tere Matthews 1998

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