Chapter Twelve
Robert’s kindness exceeded his passion for retribution and ruthless punishment. He and Gabrielle spent the night in the cottage, huddled with the bottle of brandy, both getting loose from the burning brew. But they were warm. They managed a few more confessions, both of them pried open by the devious crowbar the brandy provided. A few walls coming down, Gabrielle was rattling on about escapades in New York that he’d not heard before, while she listened to him confess to the deeply seated desires he had to subdue, use and completely own the women in his life—something he’d been doing for years, as often as he could find a willing woman. He even told her stories about Sasha in bondage—the picture of her sister submissively wiggling her ass for the man made her laugh for ten m
