She started again, “The things in your closet; the, quote unquote, touch of pain and violence you asked for sometimes... I went to a sex shop. I googled the names of the things I saw there. Do you know what I found?” She raised her eyes to peer at him and hooded them again. “Dozens of shopping sites and lots of hardcore porn.” She shook her head. “I even looked up a case that my foundation dealt with recently and restudied it. I’ll never be able to fulfill your needs. Our marriage would be a shooting star. In some of the websites... there was blood and... some I couldn’t even bear to look. In others, you have to agree to terms and identify yourself to see their hardcore videos. They were disgus-” She swallowed a sob. I will not cry. I will not.

“Disgusting, I know. I saw. Davidoff gave me access to what you googled.” He rose and stood in front of her. His knuckles tenderly caressed her face. “But you should know by now that not everything you see on the internet is real.”

“No, it is not. Reality’s worse. My foundation had a real case where the woman almost died from spanking and whipping. She had to go to a psychiatric clinic for six months, because she couldn’t let go of her... Err... Preferences.” Her hand went to her throat, her breathing labored. “It was horrible. You told me you did some... perverted things. And that you liked it. I could never imagine... How can anyone feel pleasure by hurting, spanking, scarring and torturing others?”

“I never went that far. I had limits and I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.” He cupped her face to lift it, but she resisted. How can I explain? “Sophia, look at me.”

Sophia could not, dared not. She would succumb. She should have listened to Alice and Tavish when they had tried to warn her. She should have asked for a background check from Mendes like Edward wanted. Now, I, a warped woman, am helplessly in love with a warped man. It figures. “If you don’t do it anymore... why did you keep those things?”

“In the beginning, I thought I could convince you... I needed to test you.” Alistair threw a hand in his hair. “It’s difficult for me to explain this. I had to see how far you would go and, to be honest, I needed to test my own limits. But you drew a very firm line and... The day I decided I wanted to marry you, I threw away everything I thought you wouldn’t like. From my London apartment. I simply forgot to do the same at Airgead and Ells Hall. I will not deny that I like to have you under my control, blindfolded and strapped to our bed, and I like sex toys and a few slaps. I wouldn’t go much further than that. You liked it, too... Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” her voice was hoarse. Raw pain coursed through her veins just at the thought of losing him. “Surprisingly, yes. But let me stress this: I don’t like pain. I mean... A light, gentle slap can be arousing, but not spanking or whipping. Never that. How much further will you want to go? How much can I take before I lose it?” She sat on the chair and he sat in front to her. She looked down at their knees touching. “Pain has never been a turn-on for me. I’ll never share you with another and I’ll never have sex with another woman - or man - for your pleasure. For how long will you be satisfied with me and our vanilla sex?” she sneered at the term, bitterly. “And... There is my part in all of this as well. There is nothing I crave more than to be with you. However, I’ve concluded I don’t know you - I never did - and I assure you, you don’t know me either. I’m not an angel of purity. We’ll destroy each other in the long run. I’m sorry, Alistair Connor, but I truly meant good-bye.”

Alistair was stunned by the firmness of her words. He schooled his face to hide the pain that sliced his heart and the anger that was bubbling in his veins. Patience, Alistair Connor. Patience. If you want her, you have to persevere. He gripped her cold hand tightly between his warm ones.

“We have to talk, you can’t decide all this on your own,” he said sternly.

Oh, no? Sophia looked at him. He gave very little away with his poker face, but she was a lawyer, trained to notice body language and she could see that he was suffering. I hate this expression of yours. Show your feelings, dammit. This is not business. Then she scolded herself. Your problem Sophia is that you don’t know what you want. What would you do if he showed his feelings?

“I may be Mr. Hyde, but I’m not a monster who only gets pleasure from mutilating people. Some of the porn you watched was too hardcore. Even for me. I don’t do orgies. Oh, aye, I like sexy lingerie, high heels, short dresses, lace and leather. And I did a few threesomes. A lot of men do.”

Alistair’s tone was so serious that Sophia peeked at his face. It was drawn taught. She thought about questioning his statement about the threesomes, but let it go. It would do no good. The main issue was not his sexual preferences, but her sins. She had thought this over and had talked with Dr. Kent, her brother and Edward. She was also the one in the wrong.

He was discomfited by having to explain his ways.

He was aggravated by her resistance.

He was turned on by her presence, her soft skin under his fingers, her sweet smell invading his bloodstream.

“I like my women sated and pleased. Rather, my woman. You.” He squeezed her hand. “I did some things I’m not proud of, but it was like... snorting cocaine. Difficult to stop and it left you always needing more. Unfortunately, Heather was there to offer it to me. I was young, Sophia.” He raked his hand through his hair and Sophia’s hand itched to do the same. “No. Not young. I was an idiot. If I had the experience I have now, I would have never fallen for Heather. I would never have started a relationship so wretched that it scarred my soul. And then I carried on, because I needed to let out my deep anger. Against myself, against the women that were so eager to please me. Not anymore.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t like those things anymore?” she whispered, watching his face attentively.

“Aye. And much more, if you are willing to listen. The more I did it, the more I wanted. You were right, it debased me as much as I debased the women I spanked or whipped. I swear to you that I’m more than satisfied with my sexual life with you. If you say you don’t want to be blindfolded or tied anymore, I won’t do it. I don’t need it to feel pleasure with you, my love. I don’t like labels, but let me give names here. BDSM. The acronym comes from six terms.” He raised four fingers, spread apart, and joined them in pairs, “Bondage and discipline, the BD, dominance and submission, the DS, and sadism and masochism, the SM. It’s a... type of role-play, or lifestyle choice, like Heather’s and mine,” he shrugged sheepishly. “We- She used her painful experiences and my power over her to create, uh, sexual tension, pleasure, and release. However, just like with anything else, too much of a thing... It started to scratch me raw. It had a detrimental effect. Because she wanted more and more. More pain. More sex. More partners. Less limits. She was addicted and I became addicted too.”

“But...” She frowned and looked at him, “addiction is characterized by a, uh, impairment in behavioral control. It’s a deep craving. Something that takes away your ability to resist to what you are addicted. And it diminishes your capacity to recognize significant problems affecting one’s behavior and relationships.”

“You’ve just described the Alistair Connor before Sophia.”

“BSDM is-” Alistair opened his mouth to correct her but she waved it away. “Whatever. It’s considered a deviant sex practice and grounds for a sexual disorder diagnosis. It’s a crime.”

He raised his brows at her fierce accusation. “I think this is largely cultural. BDSM is certainly not everyone’s cup of tea, but I think it is unnecessarily vilified and made to seem more pathological than it really is. It defies conventional attitudes about the place of sex in relationships. BDSM is not only about sex or its intensity; It’s more of a lifestyle.”

“Are you telling me it’s acceptable? Oh, for God’s sake, Alistair Connor!”

He tilted his head to the side for a moment, looking for words. “Listen, before you give me your opinion. BDSM sex is unapologetic sex concerned with generating intense sensual experiences; it is sex for pleasure-”

“You have a strange definition of what is pleasurable,” she sneered.

Right. His lips quirked up amused for a split second.

“I’m a lawyer with experience in this field. You’re not going to convince me. The problem with this kind of sex is that the participants keep pushing the limits, they need stronger emotions after each step taken.”

You’re not so wrong. He looked away from her face. “It isn’t like this for everyone. You’re generalizing.”

“I had a case-”

“Sophia. I can bet that in this case, the guy was an abuser. He was probably a pseudo-dominant who was using his power over his submissive to mask an abusive relationship.”

“So, you are-”

He put a finger on her lips. “There is a considerable distinction between a dominant and an abuser. However in my case... you are right. It was an addiction. Heather couldn’t stop thinking about BDSM sex. And, to tell you the truth, when I tried to cut it back, when I tried to stop... I couldn’t. It was just as powerful and destructive as any other addiction.”

She was silent, waiting for his outburst she felt was coming.

“I started to be secretive about my relationship with her. There wasn’t intimacy, communication or trust between us anymore. I lost my friends and our relationship started to become troubled. I tried to justify my actions and when I couldn’t, I... abandoned myself. I lost touch with reality. I ignored my feelings.” His lips thinned and then the corners came down. “I felt guilty because she was always complaining that she felt rejected, that I wasn’t the same, or so she told me. She started to lie and keep secrets from me. When I discovered she’d cheated on me, I felt ashamed and a failure. She...”