“So that’s a no to phone sex?”
“God has asked Solomon what great gift he would most desire. Solomon answers ‘wisdom,’ and God grants him great wisdom. Shortly thereafter he’s asked to settle a dispute between two prostitutes who live in the same house. Both women had given birth to sons within three days of each other. One child had died. The other lived. One mother claimed the living son was hers. The other mother said her son had been stolen and replaced with the dead child.”
“I’d forgotten what a gruesome book the Old Testament is.”
“It gets better,” S?ren continued. “The women demanded King Solomon make a judgment to determine to whom the living child belonged. Solomon declared ‘Bring me a sword’ and a sword was brought to him. He said he would cut the baby in half and give one part to one mother, another part to the other mother. Immediately one woman cried out ‘Please, my Lord, give her the living boy, do not kill him.’ And thus King Solomon knew the woman who was willing in an instant to give up the boy so that he might live was the true mother.”
Kingsley sighed. “And your point is…?”
“The true test of love is not always ‘Will you fight for it?’ The real test of true love is often ‘Are you willing to give it up?’”
Kingsley swallowed hard. “I can’t give it up. I’m not strong like you are. I can’t give up the things I want. I’ve lost too much in my life. I don’t want to lose any more.”
“The sacrifice is worth it,” S?ren said. “Try it sometime. You’ll see.”
“Spoken like a man who hasn’t had sex in eleven years.”
“I’m hanging up on you,” S?ren said.
“This is fun,” Kingsley said. “You and me on the phone at night talking about girls. We should do this more often.”
“Kingsley?”
“Oui?”
Click.
Kingsley laughed as he hung up the phone. He laughed until he couldn’t laugh anymore. He laughed until he didn’t feel like laughing anymore.
He stood up and took a steady breath. Right now a gorgeous blond boy who couldn’t get enough of him waited for him in his bed.
He would go fuck in the present. The past could go fuck itself.
34
KINGSLEY DIDN’T HAVE HIS CLUB YET, AND HE DIDN’T have his kingdom. But he did have Irina and the promise he’d made her. For months he and Mistress Felicia had been training her in the arts of sadism and dominance. The training had transformed her from a cold, silent scared presence in his home afraid to step a toe out of line, into a proud fierce goddess of pain.
And lucky Blaise got to be Mistress Irina’s very first victim. Not counting her soon-to-be ex-husband.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked Blaise. They sat on the wooden throne in his playroom, she in his lap. “I need you to do everything I tell you to do.”
“I will be the best girl for you, monsieur,” Blaise said, putting her private-school French to good use. He lifted her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. She played the part of the scared little girl so well that it fooled even him sometimes. Or, more importantly, fooled his cock. She gave him her most innocent pouty face. Oh, yes, she would be the very best girl for him tonight.
“Wait here,” he said to Blaise. She curtsied, and he left her standing in his playroom by the St. Andrew’s cross. She’d worn her best tonight and looked like Rita Hayworth escaped from the silver screen and brought to modern Manhattan. She’d been pouting lately that Kingsley wasn’t paying enough attention to her. Well, she would get all the attention she wanted tonight.
Out in the hall he found Irina waiting for him, pacing the hallway in her black-and-purple leather boots.
“My little girl is growing up,” he said as he took Irina by the hands. She rolled her eyes.
“Can we get started?” she asked. Her Russian accent made everything she said sound vaguely menacing. Dominatrix was the rare profession where this trait gave her an advantage.