How was it that he made her desire for him so acute? Was it because she couldn’t touch him while he touched her wherever and however he chose? He’d made her the focused object of his desire, but in the process, he made her want him with a slashing, single-minded sexual intent she’d never known.

He broke their kiss. “What is it?” he asked, caressing her ass with one large hand.

Emma blinked. She realized she’d been moaning into his mouth as her fever rose. She gritted her teeth and clamped her vaginal muscles around the vibrator.

“I want to touch you,” she whispered.

“That’s good,” he said, nipping at her sensitive lips. His long fingers slid down the crack of her ass and continued. He pushed lightly against the end of the vibrator inserted into her vagina, pressing it like a button, in and out, in and out. She gasped, her entire body beginning to tremble, on the verge of explosion. Oh God, what was happening to her?

“It’s not good,” she said desperately. “Because you won’t let me touch you.”

“It’s good because your desire will make your pleasure sharper,” he explained, removing his hand and stepping behind her. She bowed her head, clamping her eyes shut, disappointed that she couldn’t even see his handsome face anymore, let alone touch him. She could only feel, and she’d never done it more in her life. He’d made everything sharper. More imperative. He bracketed her hips in his hold and he stepped forward, his fly brushing against the upper part of her buttocks. His hand dipped between their bodies and she felt him readjusting his cock. Her eyes popped open at the sensation of his long, heavy erection pressing against her ass and lower spine. He squeezed her buttocks and flexed subtly against her. She cried out in excitement.

“Anyone can come, Emma. I want you to burn. I want you to have the memory of your pleasure stamped in your consciousness forever.”

“I am burning,” she said, her pleasure and need a sweet agony. “I will remember.” She backed against him, circling her hips, craving the sensation of his hard body and cock. God, she was writhing against him like a cat in heat, but she didn’t care. For a moment, he firmed his hold and ground her ass against his erection. He groaned gutturally.

“What a sweet little ass,” he muttered thickly. “God, the things I want to do to you . . .”

Emma gyrated more forcefully against him, aroused instead of intimidated by the edge to this tone. It felt so good, so hot, so delicious. He popped the side of her buttock with his palm. She halted her mindless writhing, shocked at the sensation.

“Just a little reminder,” he said. His hands swept up her belly. He took her breasts into his palms and began to squeeze them, this time more lewdly than last.

“A little reminder of what?” she asked in a choked voice. His cock was still pressed to her backside, but he no longer was grinding against her. The sheer weight of his arousal next to her skin drove her mad, but he’d spanked her for crushing herself against him.

“That you hold the controls,” he rasped, massaging her breasts, his actions bold and lascivious. It felt good, naughty. Exciting. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it,” he bit out, pinching her nipples lightly between thumb and forefinger while he moved his hands up and down, bouncing her breasts. Emma squealed, punching the button several times. The pulsation escalated to a breathtaking pace. Her body ignited. He stepped forward abruptly, encircling her in his arms, capturing her first shudder of climax.

“Oh yeah. That’s good,” he said thickly in her ear as she came almost violently. It took her a moment to decode what his hot mutterings meant, bliss shook her so hard. “That’s right. Keep it coming,” he demanded, and another wave of pleasure hit her, and another.

At some point, he reached up and turned off the vibrator. He must have realized her body was too busy short-circuiting to stop it. She heaved a sigh and sagged against him, panting . . . undone. He stroked her arms and shoulders. He throbbed against her backside, heavy with need, but still lingering over his task of pressing his lips against the skin of her nape. He tasted her sweat with the tip of his tongue and she felt his hunger.

Never had she imagined feeling so exquisitely desired.

“Do you think you might begin to understand the advantages of being restrained?” he asked before he kissed the opening of her ear. She shivered against him and turned her chin. He leaned over and she saw the hint of humor and the hard gleam of desire in his aquamarine eyes.

She smiled and shook her head, still panting. “I understand.”

“A little, maybe. There’s more. Much more,” he said, breaking contact with her. She missed his warm, solid length. He reached for her cuffs and unbound her. She lowered her arms with a sigh of relief. “But right now, you’ll have to deal with me.”

“Deal with you?” she asked, pausing in the action of rubbing her wrists.

“That’s right,” he said in a hard tone, taking her hand and leading her toward the great bed. He drew her around and she sat at the edge. He whipped off his T-shirt, muscles flexing beneath smooth, golden-brown skin. She saw the hard tilt to his mouth, and recognized the full extent of his arousal. “You were more than I was expecting,” he said.

He fleetly began to unfasten the button fly of his jeans, holding her stare the whole time. “Now you’ll have to accept the consequences.”

Week

FOUR

Chapter 17

Vanni jerked down his jeans and a snowy pair of boxer briefs at once. His cock sprung free. The shaft was straight and long, the cap succulent and fat. It hung suspended from his body, heavy, flagrantly virile . . . ripe, forbidden fruit.

“Oh God,” she whispered, staring up at his face, wide-eyed, awe and wariness tingeing her tone. Had she really taken that inside her in the darkness on the beach that night? Or was he perhaps especially swollen and needy tonight with suspended gratification? She stilled when he smiled, her core clenching tight.

He kicked off shoes and removed his socks hastily, his jeans and underwear disappearing down long, tanned legs dusted with dark brown hair. Sensing his arousal, she wasn’t entirely surprised when he placed his hands around her waist and heaved her back on the bed, ready for business.

“Lie back,” he ordered tersely. She scurried back on the soft duvet, eager to have all that naked, gilded, rigid muscle and sheer maleness pressed against her at last. Her head fell against an assortment of pillows. Tearing his gaze from her, he opened the top drawer of the bedside table and withdrew a condom. He ripped open the package. She watched, spellbound, air stuck in her lungs when he rolled it on his swollen, ruddy cock with expert haste.

He came onto the bed on his hands and knees. Emma’s heart began to pound frantically in her ears as he prowled toward her.

“Open your thighs like I told you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I want you to keep them spread unless I tell you otherwise.” He positioned himself over her. She couldn’t breathe. Hadn’t he joked that they’d have sex in the missionary position, making it sound like it’d be a walk in the park after the challenge of being restrained? She anxiously eyed his heavy cock hanging between his legs. Missionary sex with Vanni suddenly seemed as erotic and challenging as the most advanced positions in the Kama Sutra.

“Don’t look at me like that, Emma,” he chided as he placed his hands on her inner thighs and matter-of-factly spread her even wider. He stared at her exposed pussy for a moment, gritting his teeth. “You wouldn’t deny me this moment of pleasure after you’ve had yours, would you?” he asked, pressing back her thighs so that her hips rolled back on the bed.