She was setting her last box of stuff in Julian’s apartment when her phone rang. Loki was prowling around, sniffing at everything. But as Julian had predicted, the cat already seemed to love the larger, more sprawling place to live. It also smelled like someone he was already fond of, so that helped.

Looking down at her phone, she narrowed an eye. Her phone still read “Charles,” and it was that dorky picture of him and her cat. She would have to fix the name as soon as she hung up. He had gone off to take care of some things.

Answering the phone, she lifted it to her ear. “I still don’t know how you can do this.”

“I’m in the house, and I am the house. I can feel everything in here, and I can control every wire in every wall like they were bits and pieces of me. Wireless electronics may not plug into my walls, but they’re still in my domain. So, I can call you when you’re inside the footprint of my property. Have I ever called you when you’ve been off-site?”

She thought about it. “No, you haven’t.” She sighed. Another thing she hadn’t noticed. The more he pointed out how obvious it was that something fishy had been going on, the dumber she felt. “So, why’re you calling me if you can ghost your ass up here?”

“Easier than going all the way up there. I’m down in the theater, and I’ve decided it’s time to teach you a new trick. A real one. A big one. Come down and meet me on the stage.” He paused. “And I do not ghost my ass anywhere. That isn’t a verb.”

“It is now.”

It was Tuesday, and ten in the evening, so the staff was long gone. He often wandered off to go take care of random tasks without warning. Either he said he had paperwork to take care of, or other mysterious excuses. Much to his chagrin she had dubbed it “ghosty things” or “dead guy stuff.” But she didn’t pry. He had his right to some alone time.

Most of the time, he was somewhere in the house working on one trick or another, she guessed. And this time it had proved right.

“Okay, sure. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Great!” And with that, he hung up. It was still very, very strange that he could spontaneously call her phone from anywhere. How is that different than if he had a cell phone? This way he can’t text random dick pics. She knew he was definitely that kind of guy.

She chuckled at the idea, and patting Loki on the head, she headed down to the stage. It was weird, thinking that she was living in the big museum, but she would get used to it. The staff had already been informed, and they all seemed fine with it. The carriage house would go back to its role as a guest house for weddings or a private event space.

When she walked into the theater, Julian was on stage, humming and polishing a…giant wall of metal spikes.

Well, okay then.

There were two walls of spikes to be precise, one to the left and right of a truss structure that was built in the shape of an upside-down U. The top of the upside-down U had two holes in it, roughly wrist sized.

A folding table nearby had an arrangement of handcuffs. Several of them, about five or six, all laid out.

She could see where this might be going.

It looked like the walls of spikes were meant to fit around the truss, and…squish whoever it was strapped into the terrible device. It’d be a horrifying way to die. She’d seen other things in the museum like this, like a riff on Houdini’s famous water escape, or so on. But never anything like two giant lever-arm walls of metal spikes.

Luckily, they weren’t attached to anything. They looked lowered off of whatever mechanism was meant to drop them. She followed the cables that were meant to draw them upward and saw that they led to a large mechanical clock that was the backdrop for the whole thing. Both hands were set at zero. It looked as though it was a sixty-second timer.

Julian was watching her, leaning against the frame of the spikes. He had a knowing smile plastered across pleased, wicked featured. He was up to no good. “Have you figured out what it’s for, yet?”

“I think so. I don’t think I’m quite ready for this, unless you plan is to make an Alice-kabob for dinner tonight.”

“No, no. We’ll take it one step at a time.” He fished into his pocket and pulled out her little plastic white kitchen timer. “Thirty minutes on the clock and no spikes. Eventually, you’ll need to be able to do it in thirty seconds. You’ll have sixty for the real trick, but I want to make sure you can beat it by half before we try it for real.”

She walked up the stairs to the right of the stage and walked up to the enormous, vicious looking thing. It looked old. “I’ve never seen this one in the collection before.”

“It’s been in my private warehouse.” He touched one of the spikes almost lovingly. “I made it for Houdini himself, but he decided it too dangerous. Said he finally had proof I was trying to kill him. So, off into storage it went.”

“Private warehouse?” She narrowed an eye at him. “Where’s that?”

“There’s a level beneath the basement you haven’t even found yet.”

“But there aren’t any doors or stairs.”

“There isn’t, you’re correct.”

“So, there’s no way to get in or out unless—” She almost smacked her forehead. The answer was so obvious. She was thinking about the house from a living person’s perspective. “Unless you can walk through walls.” She shook her head. “Clever bastard.”

“Thank you.” He set down the timer on the table next to the handcuffs. “Here’s the game. You stand in the center, slip your wrists through the holes over your head. I lock each of these cuffs around your wrists. Six in total. I give you a hair pin, and nothing else. You have to get them all off and get yourself free before the spikes end your life. But, like I said, I’ll set the timer for a thirty-minute goal.”

“What’s your record?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Seconds?”

“Minutes.”

“What? No. What do you mean you can’t get it in under a half an hour?” She shook her head. “I can’t do it if you can’t.”

“You’re a better escape artist than I am. I get frustrated with locks. You don’t.” Scooping up the pile of handcuffs, he went to stand in the center of the upside-down U that was meant to string her up. He waved her over. When she hesitated, he waved again. “Come on, Alice. Let’s see how you do. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

He thought it over, and then smiled as innocently as he could. It was a pretty lousy attempt at best. “Please?”

Groaning, she finally gave in. She walked to stand underneath the center of the truss and looked up to the plate of steel over her head. It was flat, maybe ten inches wide, and a quarter-inch thick, with two holes clearly meant for her hands.

He nudged her gently. “The spikes aren’t even attached to anything. Look, they’re sitting there. I haven’t even rigged them to the wires. Trust me.”

“But…”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He kissed the back of her head. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

With another grumble, she fed her wrists through the plate over her head. He quickly set to attaching the cuffs to her wrists, one and then the other. He stacked them on top of each other until all six were stacked in order.

“I’ll warn you that all these cuffs are real. None of them are rigged with any kind of quick release.” He fished through his pocket, and producing a bobby pin, slipped it into her fingers. “That’s all you get.”

“I…” She was getting pretty good with locks, but this was ridiculous. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Alice, you don’t know if you can do a lot of things. But from what I’ve seen, you always pulled it off. You’ve met every challenge I’ve put in front of you.” He kissed her cheek slowly, and then walked around to the table where he had put the kitchen timer. “And, if after a half an hour, you’re still hanging there like an idiot? I’ll let you down and try something else.”

“Great.” She looked up at the plate but realized that she couldn’t even see the locks. The slab of metal blocked her view. This was going to end incredibly poorly.

Less poorly than the day he hooked up the spikes for the first time, but hey. Details.

“You ready?” Julian wound up the timer past the thirty-minute mark, and then eased it back down to the right point. “Go.”

And so, she started trying to pick the locks. It took a few seconds to even find the hole to stick the bobby pin into, let alone to start fiddling with the lock itself. Seconds she wouldn’t have, if there was a giant ticking death-machine going off behind her.

Fifteen seconds in, and she hadn’t made any leeway. It was then, that Julian walked up to her, humming a little tune to himself. She watched him warily, curious as to what he was doing, as he bent down and started unlacing her shoes. “Julian?”

“Keep going. Pretend I’m not here.”

He took off one of her shoes and then the other, tossing them aside. When he peeled off her socks and did the same, she pulled her feet away from him. “What’re you doing?”

“Distracting you. And it’s working. You need to be able to focus. I want you to be able to pick these locks in a burning building surrounded by screaming banshees. You need to do this trick like you can breathe air. Nothing can get in your way.”

He stood slowly, sliding his hands up her body. It was, as he pointed out, incredibly distracting. When his fingers slid into the waistband of her jeans and began to meander their way to the fly, she jolted. “Knock it off!”

“Free yourself and stop me, then.” He had that predatory, fiendish, dark expression that seemed to come over him as reflexively as a fish might be able to swim. Not only was he planning on doing something terrible, he was going to enjoy every second of it.

She swallowed thickly. “Julian…”

“Keep going. One minute off the clock already.”

Growling loudly, she squirmed and struggled as he unflicked the button of her fly. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on the handcuffs over her head. She had found the mechanism for the first handcuff and that meant she might stand a chance of getting any of them off them at all.

The handcuffs weren’t the only thing intending on coming off. He unzipped her fly, and then began to slide her jeans down her legs. He followed them down, kissing at the exposed skin of her thighs, and then her calves, until he slipped them off her.

“You’re a bastard.” The invective came through gritted teeth. He was trying to keep her from focusing, and now all she could think about was how on fire she felt. She couldn’t even swat him away. She tried to nudge him with her knees, but he caught her legs in his hands and was standing too close for her to do much. If she tried to punt him, she’d put her weight on the handcuffs, and that meant she wouldn’t be picking the locks and he would win.

The last thing she wanted was for him to win. Again.

His hands slid up her legs slowly once more, fingers pressing into her as he kissed at her thighs. She shuddered despite herself. Chewing on her lip, she tried to focus on what she felt. Or rather, what she felt of the lock above her. Not his fingers twisting the waistband of her thong around his fingers and lowering them inch by inch.

Her body was a traitor, plain and simple. She was trembling now as he pulled her panties free of her feet. She tried to focus. She could do this. She could ignore him, and—

He put one of her legs over his shoulder, and she gasped as she felt his tongue stroke up her thigh, hot, wet, and sensual. And with one goal clear goal in mind. When he reached it, she cried out, her efforts in lockpicking forgotten.

“Focus, Alice…” he murmured against her, even as he gripped her exposed ass cheeks in his hands and dragged her closer to him, angling her body to his face as he began to lap at her, exploring her. Goddamn, he was good.

And doing a very good job of making sure she couldn’t under any circumstances focus.

“Shit—“ she gasped. He was amazing with his hands. He was phenomenal with his tongue, as well. “Julian—I—”

He chuckled without lifting his head. His tongue delved into her, pressing in deep. Pleasure arced through her body like lightning. Whimpering, she twitched in his grasp, but he held her firm. No matter how she struggled and bucked, he kept her still. With her weight balanced between his shoulder and her foot, she already felt off kilter without him adding to her sense of imbalance.

When he began to nip and torment her oversensitive nub of nerves, it didn’t take long before she was tossed head-long over the cliff into ecstasy. She swallowed her shout, but couldn’t help and let out a strangled sound as everything in her body clenched tight in release.

Julian pulled away from her, kissing her thighs, before traveling them up her body, kissing her over her clothing until he was standing. He was smiling victoriously, and it made her want to deck him.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“But you love what I can do.” He glanced over his shoulder at the clock. “Six minutes. How far have you made it?”

She silently glared at him in response.

Shrugging, he began to gather up the fabric of her shirt in his hands. “I’m going to show you a trick. I love this trick. Ever see the stunt when people pull a tablecloth out from under a vase?” He now had the fabric of the front of her shirt in the palm of his hand, from neckline to her waist. He pulled the center of her bra into his fingers as well, until he was holding both articles of clothing in his fist.

“What’re you—” Her protest broke off in a yelp.

Julian yanked his hand back sharply, and she expected to go with it. But she watched, astonished, as her clothing passed harmlessly through her. He had “ghosted” it straight through her—she didn’t care what he said, it was a great verb—and rematerialized her clothing on the other side of her.

She was now utterly naked.

And he was holding her bra—still clasped together in the back—and her shirt together in his palm. “Ta-da!”

“I really, really hate you.” She glowered at him.

He shrugged. “It’s worth it.” Dropping her clothes to the stage, he began to wander his hands over her body, leisurely exploring her. He cupped her breasts in his hands and began to casually caress and stroke them as if he were in no rush. “Tick tock, Alice.”

“I’d be doing much better if you weren’t—”

He pinched her nipples between her fingers and pulled, and she had to stop talking to keep from shouting. Her head was spinning. Christ, if this wasn’t turning her on. And judging by the massive bulge in his pants, she wasn’t alone.

“I love having you like this. Tied up. At my mercy. And you like it too. I do love playing rough with you, but sometimes it’s nice to take it slow. Enjoy the ride. And oh, I plan to ride you tonight in a brand-new way.” There was something dark—well, darker anyway—in his smile.

He wandered behind her, circling her like a shark, but his hands never left her. They stroked her up and down, playing her like a piano, touching every nerve and square inch of flesh that cried out for attention. She leaned her head back against him as he bowed his in to kiss her shoulder.

“The locks, Alice. Remember…this is about you focusing.”

“You’re ruining my motivation.”

“Oh, you want a threat? All right. If you don’t get out of those locks in thirty minutes, I’ll leave you here butt-ass naked for the staff to find when they come in tomorrow morning.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would.” He grinned against her cheek. “Oh, I very much would. Because listening to you whine and complain about it all night would be wonderful. I will sit in that chair, right there, with some popcorn,”—he pointed at the front row center spot—“And I will laugh, and laugh, and laugh…”

“Fine! I’m focusing.”

“Good. Because I am going to do everything I can to make sure you’re not.” He fished into his pocket, and she watched as he held out a bottle in front of her face. It was some kind of body oil, said the label. She furrowed her brow, not understanding what he was doing. He flipped the top, and poured a copious amount into his palm, before flicking the lid back shut.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you.”

“Specifically. I want details.”

His oil-slicked hands were already stroking all over her, covering her in the substance. It felt wonderful and strange at the same time. His hands smoothed over her breasts, toying and kneading them before drifting lower, and sliding to grasp her ass again in his palms. He began to caress them much harder than he had the rest of her. “Details? Are you sure? You might not like what I tell you.”

She swallowed the rock in her throat. She was helpless like this. “Julian,” she scolded him. She sounded mostly firm about it.

He chuckled and nuzzled close to her, his hot breath pooling against her ear as he whispered to her. “I’m going to pound this beautiful tight ass of yours, Alice. I’m going to claim a part of you nobody else ever has. I’m going to make you scream my name and beg me to fuck it harder. There. Happy now?”

“Julian!” She bucked and squirmed, trying to swivel away from him. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you goddamn dare!”

“I told you, you weren’t going to like it.” He turned to stand slightly to her side, one hand pressed against her abdomen, the other now wandering to the place he was threatening to torment.

“W—wait—”

“Why? Are you afraid you won’t like it?” His finger circled her, oiling her, teasing the sensitive skin.

She went silent. She hated when she couldn’t answer his questions the way she wanted to.

Sensing another victory, he continued. “Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?”

She gritted her teeth and refused to respond.

“Then is it because it’s too fast for you? When have I ever listened to that?” He turned her head to him, kissing her slowly, both reassuring and passionate, gentle and possessive, bruising and sweet. He was such a strange dichotomy all at once. And with the kiss, he pressed his finger into her. It slipped inside, and she gasped at the sensation, breaking the kiss. He was watching her with lidded eyes that had gone dark with lust. “Oh, Alice…You are so beautiful…look at you.”

Slowly, carefully, he worked his finger inside of her. A little bit in, half the distance out. Again, and again. All she could do was gasp and whimper.

Soon, he had worked his finger into her up to the knuckle, and he began to languidly stroke it inside of her. Bit by bit, she felt the tension in her muscles began to ease as she adjusted to the still-foreign sensation. It felt…raw. Like touching a live wire. It felt so brutally sexual, so unusually erotic, she couldn’t do anything but gasp in a breath each time he reached the end of his path and began again.

“Good. That’s it. Don’t forget the locks, Alice.”

“Fuck you.”

“Mmh, someday, maybe. Not tonight. Tonight, I’m fucking you.” He chuckled at her vicious glare and kissed her again. This time, he teased her lips with his tongue, asking permission to enter. She parted her lips and let him in as a second finger joined the first. She twitched and struggled as the invasion grew, stretching her, and she tensed, waiting for the pain to start.

But it didn’t. Either because of the oil, or the fact that he was a ghost, or his skill, or all three. He moaned low as he stepped into her, pressing the considerable proof of his desire against her thigh, clearly seeking any friction against the part of him that was so desperate for attention.

The pattern repeated in a perfectly deliberate, masterful tempo. He would creep his fingers slowly deeper, then retract a little, then go a little farther in, then back, then a little more, until he was once more up to his knuckles. She mentally braced herself for what was going to follow.

When he pulled his fingers back, he broke the kiss, but his face hovered near hers. He wanted to watch her expression. And she knew why as he pressed a third finger into her.

She wailed. She arched her back, her eyes rolling into her head and slipping shut as he filled her. Gasping, she hung off the handcuffs, unable to support them with her legs for a brief moment. “Oh, oh god, Julian—”

“That’s it…just like that. Let go, I have you. I’ll always catch you. Trust me, pretty rabbit. My beautiful girl.” He murmured praises to her as he moved to stand behind her, kissing her shoulder, working his fingers into her with the same leisurely, meticulous pace as before.

Each movement sent sparks racing through her, lighting a fire that she couldn’t deny was very real and more visceral than anything else she had ever experienced.

But soon, she knew it was going to only get more intense.

And Julian was an impatient man. But he treated her with all the care of a porcelain doll, even fetching more of the oil to ensure that nothing was going to go awry. Several times he asked if she was in pain, and she shook her head each time.

When he pulled his fingers away, she heard the rustle of fabric, and she hung her head and took a deep breath. She wouldn’t tense up. She wouldn’t. This was going to happen. She…wanted this to happen.

Christ, she was messed up.

He took the globes of her ass in his hands and kneaded them slowly, groaning. “You are utterly perfect.” When something larger, hot, and throbbing pressed against her, she couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp. “Stay still, sweet girl. Stay still. It’s all right. Let me do this.”

She took a deep breath, held it, and forced herself to ease her muscles as she exhaled. She shut her eyes and nodded.

He pressed. At first, she thought he was insane. She thought he wouldn’t ever fit. It was nonsense, to think that he could cram himself up her—

She let out a loud cry as he did exactly that. It was only a little, and it was only the beginning, but he was inside of her. The noise she made was all at once a sound of shock, horror, terror, and excruciating, deep-seated pleasure at the same time. It was white-hot, searing, and felt nothing at all like pain. But every nerve in her body was still on fire all the same.

It ached—but there was no ripping, stinging agony like she had expected. Only an impossible, erotic fullness.

He pressed a little farther, and her breathless, aimless sounds choked off. They were replaced by a growl from behind her. It was guttural, explicit, and filled with abject bliss. She didn’t need to ask if he was enjoying it. Julian retracted himself half the distance he had gone, and then slowly slipped a little more than before.

Each time he moved he repeated the pattern. Out half, in a little more. Out half, in a little more. Working his way into her, filling her in a way she couldn’t have even fathomed.

She was dizzy from lack of air, her breathing fast and shallow, as he crept his way into her. He lifted her thigh with one hand, using the extra room to press his body to her all the way. With his other hand he took her hip and pulled her back, pressing that last bit into her until he was as far as he could possibly go.

Her cry tangled with his moan as he did. She could feel him, every inch of him, throbbing inside of her. She squeezed her eyes tight and tried to focus on breathing. She was going to pass out if she didn’t.

When she felt like she wasn’t going to tank it, she let her eyes slip back open. It was only then that she realized Julian was kissing her shoulder and up her arm, and anything of her that he could reach. He hadn’t move at all, still seated in her to the hilt, waiting for her. She could feel him twitch inside of her occasionally, eager for more. Desperate. But waiting.

“Julian…”

“Ready?”

She didn’t know if she was. But she knew she was going to find out. She nodded weakly.

He withdrew, slowly, almost all of the way, before sliding back into her with the same gentle stroke. He was easing her into this, and she couldn’t have been more grateful for it.

Each time he pressed forward, she thought she might be undone in that moment alone. It felt impossible. It felt incredible. And she wanted more.

But she couldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t let him win.

“How’re those locks coming?” He snickered from behind her as he worked himself into her with all the patience of a saint. “I’m making great progress back here.”

She snarled and glared over her shoulder at him, drawing a loud laugh from him in response. “Shut the hell up, Julian.”

“Mmmh, nope.” He groaned as he pressed into her again. “Ah…damn, Alice…this is better than I could have dreamed, and I’ve dreamed about this since I saw you. Bending you over, stuffing your tight little body every way possible.” He wandered his hand from her hip to her front, delving lower, slipping three eager fingers deep into her core. “All at once.”

She cried and tossed her head, pressing into his thrust and his fingers, trying to find more of both. “Oh—Oh, god—”

“Hm? What’s this?” He was gloating. Teasing her as he nipped at the skin of her arm. “Do you want more? Do you want me to be harder with you? Hm? Say yes, pretty girl. Please say yes.”

The bobby pin slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, skittering across the stage.

“Oops. Well, now you’re doomed, aren’t you?” He chuckled, his voice thick with his own pleasure.

She gasped as he pumped his fingers with the same maddeningly slow pace that he was pressing himself into the other part of her. She had never felt so frustrated and so good at the same time.

It went on for what seemed like hours. It had probably only been seconds.

Finally, she caved. He won. Again. “Yes. Julian, please, yes!”

The sound he made wasn’t a word, and it wasn’t quite describable. His fingers left her to grip her hip hard.

And then, she felt what he had really wanted to be doing to her the whole time. All thoughts left her. All she knew was him and his presence. That driving force that seemed to want to turn her body into the piston chamber of an engine the way it was coring her out.

Her pleasure crested, and she made a breathless, gasping sound as everything in her tensed around him. But he wasn’t done. He wasn’t near done. He was going to use her, rut her, and make sure he hollowed out a part of her that only he could ever fill.

And she leaned into each impact as he did it.

Again, and again, she pitched headlong into ecstasy. Her thoughts dissolved into white noise, and she figured she might forget her own name by the end of it. It seemed to stretch on into eternity, and she decided that if this was how she died, she’d go happy.

Eventually, right when she thought she might cry for mercy, when the pleasure became too much, he roared. His thrusts became erratic and needy. He yanked her back against him roughly, keeping her pliant and still as he took what he needed from her. Once, twice, three, four times he impacted her like that, before he buried himself in as far as he could go and wrapped both his arms around her like a vise.

He was twitching, shuddering, moaning against her back and into her hair as he spent himself deep inside her. She felt him throbbing, felt the heat pool inside of her as he did. It was enough to undo her one last time, and she joined him in his release.

They were both sweating, chests heaving for air. Slowly but surely, they both seemed to come down from their respective and joined clouds. He pulled in a long breath and let it out with a sated, contented sigh. As he removed himself from her, he kissed her hair. “We’re doing that again. And again. And again.”

She wouldn’t complain, as long as he didn’t mean tonight.

“Your half hour was up a while ago.” He kissed her arm. “I suppose I wasn’t playing fair. I guess we should let you out of those cuffs now.”

“No need.” She pulled her wrists out of the holes overhead and reached over to hand him the pile of cuffs.

Julian looked down at them in his palms, his eyes wide. His mouth fell open. He stared at them as if she had just pulled them out of her—“Wh…huh?”

“Minute and a half. Still not fast enough.” This time it was her turn to grin like she had eaten the canary for once. She walked over to her clothes and began to piece them on well enough to walk upstairs. Lordy, she needed a shower now.

“You got out in a minute and a half.” He was still standing there, buck naked, staring at the pile of cuffs in his hands as if he couldn’t fathom what had happened. “You were faking being stuck…?”

Leaning up, she kissed his cheek. “Ta-da.”