Sorry for the delay in updating this story. I had several false starts and much self-inflicted discouragement in writing it. But I think I may be satisfied with this chapter now. This story was intended to be read from start to finish so, given the length of time that has passed since I posted the first chapters, I hope that you will consider reading it over from the beginning. It's not that long.

She'd pulled him over the edge, as though tugging hand-over-hand on a rope which tethered him as well as her, and, of its own accord, his body had responded naturally, lustfully, with no other possible course of action. She'd tugged him over the edge, urging his freefall towards that place where she'd gone before him and awaited his arrival. There, he'd joined her in that dazed, contented, rosy state of completion.

After a while, Jess slowly came to realize just how tightly his hands squeezed her hipbones. And after a moment more, he became capable of relaxing them. Placing his wrists astride her hips, he released his grip and leaned forward upon his knuckles. He stood aside the bed with his head bowed, utterly and magnificently used up. With every gasp, his head drooped further towards his chest. They still throbbed together. Intimate. Each one's delicate, occasional pulses affected the other, in an exquisitely intimate give and take.

"Ohhhh…" Rory moaned and he felt the rumblings of that sentiment through her body, and its echoes through his own. The sound of her voice was inside him. It ran wild though his veins, straight to his fluttering heart. The sound of her voice—that lusty rumble of gratification—playfully, tenderly, twisted his innards, as Rory's brilliant mind often did. That voice tickled his fancy. And he loved that with every fibre of his being.

In time, Jess caught his breath. He switched his weight from one foot to the other and raised his head to see her eyelids flutter open. Rory was flushed pink and she looked deliciously ravaged. So beautiful. So unwittingly seductive and charming and beautiful. Satisfaction beamed from his slack-jawed grin, until he remembered the game and the grin became a smirk. He lowered his eyebrows, darkening his eyes, specifically for her benefit.

"I've made you mine," he said, issuing the words as a severe, subjugating warning, to keep in character with the game they still played.

He took great pleasure in the quavering response of her body.

He gestured to the marks still somewhat apparent on her stomach, running his soft, writer's fingertips decisively along her skin. His gaze and fingers paused to caress the thumbprint he'd left where he'd tightly gripped her hipbone only moments before. He spoke slowly, drawing out his speech to accentuate his threats. "Now, I know… you won't run." He looked up at her face. "You're a smart girl. I can tell. So I know you've figured out the truth by now: there's nowhere to run to. I'll always find you and keep you." He looked deeply into her impossibly blue eyes, losing himself in them. From there, it was difficult to maintain the commanding tone of his voice, but he made a valiant effort. He pressed against her with as much menace as his loving contentment could allow."I've made you mine… and I will keep you."

She squeezed—an intimate throb—and the breath caught in his throat as his stomach performed a perfect swan dive.

"Oohhhh…" Rory growled, her eyelids low and all her flesh flushed with beautiful colour. Then, to Jess's amusement and intense satisfaction, he bore witness to the moment that she remembered her character in this game they played. He saw her train of thought switch tracks, as the entire story of her sudden recollection played out upon her face. How glorious it was to make her forget herself!

She abruptly corrected her facial expression—as did he, once again.

Her eyes grew wide, solemn and submissive as she nodded. "I— I p— promise… I won't run," she played, as though thoroughly conquered.

"Good," he spoke confidently. "I assure you: if you did, the consequences would be severe."

"Yes… Sir," she whispered tentatively, barely audible.

"Don't call me that," he growled in distaste. He lightly squeezed her hipbones again, for effect.

"Sorry! I— Uh— What should I call you? M— Master?"

Jess smirked. No way in hell, he thought. Instead, he barked darkly, "Call me Jess. My name is Jess."

"OK. I promise. I won't run… Jess."

Satisfied with her oath, Jess nodded as well and, with a stutter-breath, he slid regrettably from her—as all good things must come to an end—though he remained standing in the cradle of her thighs. With an affected smugness tugging upon his lips, He set about removing the rope. It came off of the post first so that she could bring her arms down while he untied the knot at her wrists.

As the nylon rope was unwound and her skin was revealed, he cupped a wrist in each of his hands and, while biting his lip, he ran soothing circles across each with his thumbs. He slid his fingers into her palms then off of her fingertips. Her hands dropped lightly onto her stomach.

Remembering the divine and sacred and intimate, he ran a hand beneath her buttock as it overhung the edge of the bed and, using that hand, he lifted her thigh. Gripping her ankle once more, he brought her leg over his head and onto the bed, allowing her to scoot across it slightly.

Jess crawled over her, the unsteady, swaying crawl of a man whose knees were still rubbery. He paused astride her to momentarily bury a kiss between her neck and the sweet smelling curls nestled next to it and then collapsed upon his side of the bed. She watched him avidly as he did so.

She watched so avidly, in fact, that he began to feel shy and a little bit ridiculous. Of course, to a certain extent, he always felt that way when he took such singular control in their play. Exposed.

"The hair was a nice touch," she said finally, and her words released him from his state of self-consciousness. As his temple hit the pillow, the last vestiges of the characters they'd assumed cracked away, revealing the two satisfied smiles they'd—with varying levels of success—attempted to keep hidden.

"Oh yeah?"

"I liked it." She drew her gaze from his and gathered a section of her brunette curls. A sweetly sublime smile took hold of her lips. She examined the hank closely, fingering it, stroking it, as though deep in wistful visions. He wished she could see herself as he saw her but, for the time being, he simply enjoyed the vision that was his own.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Rory caught his gaze again and abruptly dropped the hank of hair. She rolled closer and kissed him. Her tongue was silky. Almost as silky as she was.

"Man, I could do that again," she said, against the corner of his mouth.

"Kiss me again?" he murmured, amused, and ran his fingers along the length of her spine. She raised an eyebrow suggestively but it was unnecessary. He had never confused her meaning. And he had no doubt there would be adventures to come. His appetite for her, in all ways and all manners, was boundless. Jess could never be sated very long for that which they created together. Still, his tastes for their next encounter ran towards a different flavour. "You're in control next time. I'll give you the keys."

"I'll take the keys," she replied pointedly. "And you'll have no say in the matter."

"I like what I'm hearing," he purred.

Grinning, she rolled away from him again, onto her back, but she wasn't getting away that easily. Jess ran a hand over her breast to her waist and slid her tighter against him. Her flesh was cool to the touch and so wonderful against his heated body.

Idly she rubbed her wrist, seemingly deep in thought. The movement caught his eye. He gently dug his fingers under hers and felt her wrist. "Too tight?"

"Just right, actually. I was just remembering the feel." She giggled slightly. Then the amused query, which followed, caught him off-guard. "What would you do to me if I ran?"

He smirked. "You wouldn't like it." He shook his head and adjusted the bedspread.

Her eyes were twinkling with humour as she asked again, more insistently, "What would you do?"

He spoke with the righteous assuredness of a man who, given displeasing circumstances, knew of no other appropriate course of action. His expression was painted with playful harshness, as were his words, "I would withhold sexual favours. All of this… Gone."

Surprise and mock pain alighted upon her face, freezing there in perfect comedic timing. "Hemingway!" she cried, uttering the safe word and letting him know that such a fate would, indeed, be going too far. "Hemingway!"

Then she joined him in laughter as he tugged her closer still.

Does anybody else out there think that Milo did wonders for the name Jess? I will admit that, when they first introduced his character to the show, and I found out his name was Jess, my first thought was, "Ew, that's a girl's name. The writers are trying to be cute with names again." But, as his character developed, I found he made that name so virile, so masculine. I love it now. So now there are two separate names in my mind, the feminine short form of Jessica and the masculine Jess, as portrayed by Milo. Jessie or Jesse will never do. He is always Jess, magnificently so. Beautiful in sound and in spelling. Unadorned with a second useless, frilly syllable. So anyway, when I wrote that part about Rory asking, "What should I call you?" Jess's response really spoke to me.

I hope you will take the time to send me a review, or to say hello, or to agree or disagree on the virility of the name Jess, or to say anything that you'd like to say. With this story being read so avidly, but so silently, I am Jess: I feel shy, a little bit ridiculous and exposed. Please tell me what you think, as Rory told him, and release me from my state of self-consciousness! Anonymous reviews or private messages are welcome.

A further note to any young, impressionable readers who have read this story even though it is labelled Mature: There is a difference between the consensual role-play which I have depicted here and non-consensual assault (rape). Women do not fantasize about rape. Rape is a horrible crime. Unlike rape, in consensual role-play, the rules and limits are arranged by both partners beforehand; there is mutual trust between partners and an explicit agreement as to when the playing will stop, such as with the use of safe words. I feel compelled to mention that, in case my story has been misinterpreted.

Anyway, please review!