Chapter Forty-Five

Daphne had discovered the ideal bedmate in Sigurd. She could trust not only to his discretion but also that he would not take advantage of her sudden and unexpected wish to be restrained. Was that to banish her demons? He performed best in playful mood, as he was now, though she was thinking of introducing something new to the mix: role play. He could be whatever he suggested: over-eager suitor, jealous husband, would-be rapist, just so long as it was as rough as she preferred and no more.

In turn she could be a shocked virgin, unfaithful wife or slut who was asking for it. She drew the line at wearing her nun’s habit. Some things were sacrosanct.

They were continuing to be careful, meaning that sometimes he fucked her mouth or withdrew before spilling his seed. She liked it best when his tongue slid between her legs and she felt his manly beard on her inner thighs. Far too many of her ‘lovers’ had been foppish and prurient. He treated her like a woman and never failed to hold her clo