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something.”
    He raised his hand. A silver band lay across his palm. Her knees grew weak, and her pussy flooded.
    “You brought me a collar?”
    “Yes. You’ll wear it when you’re with me.”
    She made it to the one chair in the room before she collapsed. “In public?”
    “Yes, in public.”
    Before, she’d worn his collar in the privacy of their home, but never beyond the front door. Their games had been theirs, private. She couldn’t contemplate what this new demand meant. She stared at the solid loop. “I. . . . ”
    “You will do as I say, Celeste.” He said it, emphasizing the word will , in that tone that overrode all her dominant circuits, and made her putty in his hands.
    She fought to gain a foothold on her sanity. Liquid heat pooled between her legs. She wanted to wear the collar, wanted to give in to his demands, wanted – everything his presence promised. But if five years had taught her anything, it was that she could be strong when she needed to be.
    “We need to talk.”
    “I know. We will, but you’ll wear my collar while we do it.”
    He took a step toward her. He’d always done this too her, robbed her of all good sense. She watched his hands work the simple clasp and open the band. He came closer. Heat radiated from him like an inferno.
    “Look at me, Celeste.”
    She tilted her head so she could see his face. The question was in his eyes. He silently asked her permission. She closed her eyes in answer, and he closed the cold band around her neck. One fingertip brushed the top of the band, and then skimmed the pulsing artery on the side of her neck, then along her jaw to her chin.
    “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
    He gazed at her with a love she hadn’t seen in years. Her heart swelled, and tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t imagine giving him up again. The thought of it was enough to make her heart stop.
    “I love you, Celeste. I always have.”
    “I love you, too. I always will.”
    “Do you remember your safe word?”
    Not that she’d ever had to use it, but she nodded. “Glock.” She’d chosen it because she promised she’d kill him if she ever needed to use it.
    He smiled that quirky half smile that made him look almost boyish, before his lips covered hers. His kiss was sweet, a welcome home, unlike the one he’d given her earlier. Now she understood that one was a message to Drew. She was his. An image of Drew watching as Sean claimed her lips flashed in her mind, and she broke the kiss.
    “We need to talk.”
    He stepped back, and his hands dropped to his sides. “So you say. We can talk over dinner.”
    “Promise me, Sean. Promise me we’ll talk. We can’t pick up where we left off. That wasn’t a good place. We have to talk about what happened.”
    His gaze was focused on the collar around her neck. “Promise me, or I’m going to take the collar off.”
    His eyes jerked to hers. “I promise. We’ll talk. We’ll eat. Then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”
    She wasn’t sure she could walk now, but his blunt speech threatened her resolve. “Maybe.”
    She allowed him to take her elbow and lift her from the chair. Her feet moved in step with his. She was aware of a few stares as they traversed the hallways and common areas. Collars weren’t unusual on the Lothario . She’d seen a few, but mostly it seemed, the passengers played at domination and submission. The room service menu had a variety of collars listed, none of which were anything like the one she wore.
    He seated her at a secluded booth in a small restaurant. He took the opposite seat. She suspected it was so he could see the collar around her neck, as opposed to his consideration for her needs. Whatever the reason, she was glad for the distance. It made it easier to think.
    They ordered wine and cheese and waited in silence until the waiter returned. Sean declined to go through the wine ritual, taking the proffered bottle and waving the waiter away. He filled their glasses and