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“Take me to you, imprison me, for I.”

She begins moving. Each rise pulls me nearly out of her before she takes me again.

The metal ring slides toward my shoulder. Heather catches it and presses it flat against the center of my chest. “Do you want these?”

“No.”

She stops over me. My cock is buried inside her, and both my hands remain wrapped around the headboard.

Heather lifts the keys by their ring. “She offered you a car and a phone.”

“Yes.”

She lays the keys against my throat. One edge presses beside my pulse. She presses the keys between her hand and my throat and begins riding me again. The brass teeth move against my throat. “Finish the poem.”

“Except you enthrall me, never shall be free.”

She presses the keys harder.

I’ve taught this line for years. It’s never required anything from me before.

She rides me while the headboard shifts beneath my grip. Her pace gives me no place to separate the poem from her body. “Again,” she says.

“Except you enthrall me, never shall be free.”

She takes me deeper on the final word. My hips rise to meet her, but my hands stay where she put them. She takes the keys away from my throat and drops them on my chest again.

“Touch me.”

My hands remain around the headboard because that was the last place she ordered them to stay.

She raises one eyebrow.

I release my right hand and put it on her hip. My left remains above my head.

“Both,” she says.

I lower the other hand. She expects it on her remaining hip. I slide it behind her neck instead. Her body stops moving.

I hold her where she’s held each of us, not hard enough to direct her but firmly enough that she feels the choice.

She catches my wrist. For a moment, neither of us moves. Then she places my hand more securely against the back of her neck and begins riding me again. “Finish.”

“One line remains.”

“I know.”

I begin it. “Nor ever chaste, except you.”

Heather covers my mouth with her hand before I reach the final words.

“Not his language. Yours.” She continues fucking me. “Tell me what you want.”

I could ask her to keep me. The words would make captivity something Heather does while I remain acted upon.

“Give me the keys again,” I say.

She slows. “Why?”