I suspect that Zach is conflicted over what “home” actually means. He’s been so adamant that the only home he’ll ever acknowledge is the one he made for himself back in Caraica. But now, he remembers that he had a home here that he loved very much and was resentful of having to leave. I can’t even imagine what he must be feeling at this moment… the dichotomy of emotions that must be weighing on him.

It terrifies me to think that he may be sitting inside of his room, right at this very moment, planning an immediate return to the Amazon. It would be an easy way for him to deny the feelings of affinity he must have been feeling to his childhood home today. It would be an easy out for him to take… to run back to what is most comfortable to him.

I go ahead and knock softly on the door. “Zach… can I come in?”

I’m met with silence, so I go ahead and try the doorknob, finding it opens to my touch. Swinging the door open, I note that the room is cast in semi-darkness, as he has the heavy drapery pulled shut and only one small bedside lamp lit.

I quickly search the room with my eyes, and I find him sitting in a plush chair upholstered in royal blue and gold silk. He’s slouched in it, his long legs stretched out before him. One hand rests on his thigh; the other has his elbow purchased on the armrest and his chin resting thoughtfully in his palm. His eyes are dark and hooded as he stares at me.

“You didn’t come down for dinner,” I say softly.

He doesn’t respond but just continues to let his eyes penetrate me, although they’re nearly devoid of any emotion.

I close the door softly behind me and take unsteady steps across the room until I’m standing before him. His eyes rise up to look at me, but still he remains silent.

“Are you okay? Randall told me all about your trip to your house today.”

Zach’s lips flatten, and his eyes look almost dead to me. “Did he tell you what happened there?”

“Only that you had a memory… that you didn’t want to go to the Amazon with your parents.”

Zach gives a disdainful laugh as he looks up at me. “It was so much more than that. I repetitively begged my parents not to take me. I didn’t want to leave my home… my friends. I wanted a f**king dog and to stay with Uncle Randall, but I had no choice in the matter.”

My heart bleeds over the pain and anger in his voice. It is shredded by the fact that Zach was never given the choice to stay here. Just as he was never given a choice to stay back in Caraica when I came for him.

“I’m sorry, Zach. It was unfair to you that you had no control,” I tell him softly.

He regards me for a moment, weighing the empathy in my voice. Placing both of his hands on the armrests of the chair, he surges upward onto his feet, now towering majestically over me.

“It’s funny,” he murmurs as he gazes down at me, his eyes warming slightly.

“What’s that?” I whisper.

“That you should use the word ‘control’. You… of all people, know the significance of what that means to me. The need to have it.”

“I understand you well,” I tell him simply. “Even better now.”

Zach reaches a hand out and gently strokes my cheek. His eyes stray down to where he’s touching me, contemplating my admission.

When he raises his gaze back to mine, gone is the slight hint of warmth and in its place is concrete hardness.

His hand falls away from my face. “Take your clothes off,” he demands. His voice is low but commanding, sending shivers up my spine.

The modern woman in me wants to balk because I know where this is going. Zach is feeling out of control, and he wants to gain it back. The best way he knows how is by forcing my complete surrender. To prove he is the same as he ever was.

But there is a different woman inside of me as well. One that has come to appreciate that there is complete freedom in submission. The freedom comes from not having any choices to make, and to trust that Zach will do right by me. That woman… the one who has already gone wet between her legs the minute he told me to take off my clothes… that is the woman that is stepping up to the plate right now.

That woman… she’s the one that wants to make Zach feel better, by giving in to what he demands, and making sure he understands that I’ve come to crave his uncivilized nature.

Without a second thought, I reach down to the hem of my blouse and lift it up. When it clears my head, I drop it to the floor and immediately unzip my skirt, letting it flutter its way down my legs. I step out of it by taking a small step away from Zach.

His eyes glitter and his nostrils flare as he takes in my simple white bra and panties. I stand there, waiting for his next order.

“All of it,” he growls.

My bra snaps in the front, so I give a quick flick at the clasp in the center of my chest, roll my shoulders, and let gravity take it from my body. Hooking my thumbs under the waistband of my panties, I shimmy them down my legs and step out of them as well… again, taking one more step back from Zach.

His gaze penetrates mine briefly before his eyes leisurely slide down my body. I wait for his next command, my skin tingling in anticipation of what he’ll do to me. A kiss? A touch? I’ll take anything he wants to give me. I’ll die if he doesn’t give me something.

Zach takes one long-legged stride toward me, curling his hand behind my neck. With measured force, he turns me around and pushes me down to the ground. My breath catches in my throat as he guides me to the floor, first to my knees, then all the way down until my cheek is touching the soft carpeting. His own knees hit behind me with a small thud, and he exhales loudly.