Zie's reservations about my philanthropic endeavors could have been resolved and she'd excelled within the S&M lifestyle, taking hedonism to an entirely new level. She was the kind of woman any man would have considered the ultimate prize. There was no appeal in a trophy wife though, not even one as gorgeous as Zie.

Mia shifted uncomfortably. "You proposed to her in Paris?"

"How long did you chat for?" I feigned amusement.

"A while. McKenzie told me you met at Chrysalis."

Yes, we had.

Months later, Zie and I had flown to Paris to spend time at Le Fernier's Maison de Plaisir, where she'd undergone extensive submissive training. That small scar on her upper back was evidence of her demand to be pushed further.

I recalled her begging us not to leave Le Maison after being immersed at the highest level. She, like so many submissives, had become infatuated with the sexual freedom it had brought her. She'd morphed into an erotic beauty and was hailed as an authority on all things amorous. Under my tutelage Zie had flourished, setting both Le Maison de Plaisir and the social scene ablaze with her extraordinary love of exhibitionism and her desire to experiment. I'd found her bi-sexuality endearing.

During those long, breathtaking days, it had been impossible to imagine life without her. Inevitably Zie and I had moved in together and our relationship had quickly evolved. Before leaving France, I'd asked her to marry me.

In time, she'd demanded more.

The walls of obligation had closed in and I'd felt like I was the one collared. We'd burned through too many intensive nights of wild sex and I'd glimpsed her need to top, her secret wish to dominate me.

Yeah, not gonna to happen.

I refused to relent to anyone's control.

Ever.

I'd refused her need to rule and inevitably pushed Zie away.

And ended us.

I'd rendered a soon-to-be bride devastated and a submissive without a master.

The very weekend our marriage was supposed to have taken place I'd flown off to Tibet. Alone. Remaining behind was too damn painful and I'd needed to get far away, put distance between me and the devastation I'd caused. Zie accused me of making her a social pariah and solidifying my reputation as a playboy.

We'd not seen each other until tonight.

All those memories came screeching back in all their glorious dysfunction, like the car wreck we'd once been. All that pain, all that disappointment, all that yearning for peace I'd failed to obtain when around her.

Upon my return from the East, I'd gone on the ultimate bender within the club scene with Richard and Shay at my side, and it was hard not to smile as I recalled us reigning supreme at Chrysalis. All three of us left a slew of wanton submissives in a wake of euphoria. Our preeminence brought us exhilaration and forged our reputations as Lords of Chrysalis.

After Zie, there'd been no one.

A self-imposed ban.

Subs need only apply. I'd train them, sure, and then give them back. The women were brilliant reflections of my special brand of skills.

Until her.

That stunning creature sitting beside me who'd bewitched me with her heady combination of innocence and sensuality. The one woman who always knew what I needed and responded flawlessly to any pleasure or punishment I bestowed.

Even now, obediently sitting silently beside me and allowing me to get lost in my own thoughts, her hand rubbing my back with affection.

I struggled to believe I deserved this kind of happiness.

Mia brushed her fingertips along her collar. "I know that this means you own me...but..."

Rising out of this melancholy, I realized where Mia was going with this. "Yes?"

"McKenzie told me I'm merely your property," she said. "Like one of your paintings."

I smirked. "I actually own several priceless pieces."

She still looked uncertain.

"Mia, have I not confessed my love for you? Risked so much for us to be together?"

"But what kind of love, Cameron?"

"What do you want me to say, Mia?"

She had every right to ask this. I'd seduced her away from her first love.

Mia broke my stare.

I didn't want Zie's poison anywhere near us.

"Let's not talk about her anymore." I refused to have tonight tainted.

"Do you see a future for us?"

Trying and failing to form the words she needed to hear, I shifted uncomfortably. My feelings were hard to define because I'd not felt this way about anyone. She was a perfect balance between feisty and submissive. This, this was sweet, sweet agony ravaging my every thought, and every breath felt like it belonged to Mia.

I reached over and unclipped her collar and removed it.

Her hand snapped up to her throat in a panic.

"Your trust in me proves your worthiness to wear my collar."

Mia grabbed it and pushed herself to her feet. She walked off toward the house.

Cursing Zie's interference, I pulled my legs out and rolled my pants back down.

Pushing to my feet, I headed after her.

Mia saw she had my attention and ran off into the house.

I took after her, adrenaline forging through my veins as I made quick headway into the house, down the hallway, flying around the corner, and bolting into the foyer.

This need to chase her alighted every cell in my body.

I ascended the staircase, taking two at a time, these intricately wired neurons firing my need to catch her.

Then fuck her.

Hard.

I grabbed hold of Mia's waist and swept her into my arms and she knew well enough not to struggle, hugging her collar into her chest. I carried her back down and along the hallway, toward that ordinary looking doorway and through it, down the winding staircase.

We descended into the climate controlled lowest level of the house.

I eased Mia down, grabbed her hand, and pulled her behind me, all the way along the sprawling chandelier lined corridor. She looked up at the dangling crystal droplets, seemingly mystified this place existed.

"Mia, next time I bring you down here you'll be crawling on your hands and knees," I chastised. "Understand?"

She sucked in a gasp of excitement. "Yes, master."

I punched in the ten digit code to get us in to what lay beyond- The Vault.

CHAPTER 6.

DELICATE RUBIES IN Mia's collar caught the light.

I'd rested it on a red velvet pillow atop the side table so she could see it from where I'd stood her at in the center, secured and bound. Stripped of her dress, she merely wore her bra and panties. Her arms were outstretched on either side of her, her wrists restrained in leather cuffs, but her ankles free.

This device was the Italian designer's take on a chrome Saint Andrew's Cross, only this one had moveable parts to ensure the sub could be placed in any stance a master desired. Strung up, legs splayed, bent over, or ass merely curved. The ultimate apparatus to ensure a sustained tension and the means to provide resistance free access from any angle.

Mia looked beautiful standing upright and held captive against the gold plated arms of the device. Her cheeks were flushed, her breaths came short and sharp, and her breasts rose and fell with each gasp. Those blonde locks cascaded over trembling shoulders. Her pensive expression fired my dark need to pleasure her in the midst of her confinement.

I stripped off my shirt and stood barefoot before her.

Watching. Waiting. Gaging.

Following her gaze as she looked around.

Chrome walls, foreign accruements that she'd have no idea about, that low hung blue droplet chandelier in the center throwing off a glittering light. That four poster bed I'd let her sleep on later. Perhaps. Or maybe I'd keep her awake and not waste a second of having her in here.

Her frown proved she was wondering about that red door at the end and where it led.

"This room is sacred," I told her. "It belongs to us. And us alone. There will be no talk of the world outside while we are in here. Or anyone other than us. Do you understand?"

She gave a nod.

"You have a question?"

She lowered her gaze.

I neared her and rested a fingertip beneath her chin and raised her head to look at me. "You're asking for proof of my love?"

She gave off a mixture of nervousness and anticipation-swooning.

"Mia, while we are in here you are my property. In here, I own you. You will do what I tell you without hesitation. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

A thrill ran up my spine to see her entering subspace.

I pointed to her collar. "What does this mean?"

She hesitated.

"Mia." I reached around her waist and ran my fingertips up her spine. "The sub who wears my collar will be worshiped, cherished, spoiled, nurtured, protected, punished, and pleasured beyond all understanding."

She trembled against me.

"In here you are my property, yes, and you have every right to fear me. I am a stern master and will expect the very best from my sub." I pointed upward. "Up there, out in the world, you will wear my collar. It represents you are mine. I will share everything I have with you. I will listen to you, anticipate your needs, and give you everything you want to be happy and fulfilled."

Her eyelashes flickered. "Your girlfriend?"

I kissed her nose. "My lover. Everyone will know you are mine. Such a position carries status and power."

I could see in her eyes she wanted to know if we'd ever be more. We weren't there yet, and I wasn't sure we'd ever be. Mia's fear of abandonment proved she needed the kind of reassurance only a proposal could carry.

My passion was intense and it wasn't the first time a woman needed reassurance that this level of emotion would endure-a physical relationship that fulfilled a woman entirely.

I'd once been told that after the time spent with me was over it felt like the equivalent of drowning for the sub. The reality of finding a master with my exact talents was rare apparently, leaving women starved of that which they'd be exposed to. Refusing to hold back on the blinding pleasure I'd bestowed on them didn't exactly make it easy.

The present moment drew me back.

I reached up and unclipped Mia's wrists, releasing her. "What do you desire?"

Mia stepped away and scurried over toward her collar. She lifted it off the pillow and placed it around her neck. She returned to me and spun around for me to secure the catch.

"Master." She knelt before me.

I moved away from her toward the light switch and dimmed the vault, setting the scene before strolling over to the walled wireless system. Hans Zimmer oozed from the surround sound speakers. A hypnotic, moody piece that filled the room with vibration.

Making my way back to her, I rested a hand on the top of her head. "Stand."

I grabbed Mia's bra and ripped it off her and it made her jolt. I knelt and did the same with her panties, leaving her naked and running a hand over the curve of her buttocks.

From the corner trunk, I removed the long strands of fine, strong rope. Taking my time, dissolving into the ritual, I began the process of binding Mia, using intricate geometric patterns around her curves, having mastered the art of Shibari a long time ago. This ancient form of Japanese bondage was once reserved for beloved prisoners. The technique was so complex and time consuming it was reserved only for our most cherished.

I weaved the last rope around her breasts. "Well done, kitten," I said huskily.