He was still kissing her when he grabbed her wrists and held her arms spread wide, held her down on the bed. He used his legs to kick her thighs even wider apart, and she spread as far as she could. But he didn’t touch her, other than his hands on her wrists, weighing her down, rendering her helpless. His demanding kisses rendered her every bit as helpless.

Her body was burning up, and still he kept kissing her—nothing more. She felt a trickle run down her thigh, her sex swollen with need. Her breasts ached, her nipples hard as stones. And his lips and tongue were torturing her in the most delicious way.

She lifted her head off the mattress to kiss him back harder, but he pressed her down again, telling her without words to submit to him—a power struggle she had no real desire to win.

Regardless of her wanting—a wanting she was drowning in—or maybe because of it, she felt a gear shift in her head. It was another level of submission, of giving herself over to him, to whatever he demanded.

He pulled away and whispered against her mouth, “Beautiful, baby. This is exactly what I wanted from you. What I needed to see before I fuck you.”

He stroked her hair, her cheek, ran his fingertips down the side of her neck, and at that moment it was as erotic as any other man with his hand between her legs.

When he brushed her nipple, she arched into his touch—she couldn’t help it.

He kissed her lips, a few soft, brief kisses, before moving down and grazing her nipple with his lips.

“Oh . . .”

He filled his hands with both breasts, flooding her body with another wave of heat before he bent and took one hard tip into his mouth.

She sighed her pleasure as he sucked, his mouth so hot and wet she thought she might come right then, her pussy clenching hard between her spread thighs.

“God, Mick. Yes.”

He sucked harder, eased off and bit into her swollen flesh, and she cried out.

“Ah!”

He pulled back and moved to the other side, pulling her nipple in with his lips, swirling his tongue over the tip, then sucking and biting, biting and sucking, squeezing her breast painfully with his hands. Pleasure was fire and rain and thunder all at once, her body hovering on the edge of release. When he thrust one thigh hard against her mound, her clit pulsed against the strong muscle there. He pressed again, and again and again. Her body exploded, white fire behind her closed eyelids, her legs shaking as she came, her fingers grasping the duvet, her hips thrusting against his thigh.

“God, Mick! Oh . . .”

She was still shaking when he asked roughly, “Condoms?”

“No, I don’t . . .”

“Hang on.”

She felt bereft as his body left hers for a moment, then he was back, and she blinked up to see him tearing a packet with his teeth. He reared back to sheath himself, and even watching him roll the latex over his rock-hard erection was purely erotic to her.

He leaned over her, took her wrists in his hands once more and drew them up until they were raised over her head. He wrapped them both in one big hand and held them there as he used the other to guide his cock to her opening.

“Yes, please, please,” she murmured as the tip of him rested against her.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his tone harsh, guttural.

When she raised her gaze to his she saw the need in his glittering gray eyes, in the looseness of his features. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he slid into her.

Her sex clenched around him as his thick shaft stretched her, and pleasure shivered through her like an electric current.

“Oh . . .”

“Baby,” he murmured. “Goddamn it, you feel . . . amazing.”

He gasped as he thrust, driving to the hilt.

She gasped out a breath as he filled her.

He was big, and it hurt. She didn’t care. She wanted all of him, every bit she could get. She arched her hips, taking him in.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he said. “Come on, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me as I’m fucking you.”

She did as he instructed, raising her hips to meet his as he drove into her. She saw every stab of pleasure mirrored in his eyes, heard every moan echoed in his deep groans. Sensation built, pushing deeper inside her even as he did, his cock a thick hammer inside her body.

When she felt his cock begin to pulse, he stopped, breathing hard.

“Don’t move,” he commanded.

She held her muscles taut, stilling herself as best she could. His scent surrounded her, invaded her head, her body, filtering deep within her system. Dark leather, fresh citrus, the smoky scent of sex.

“Allie, I need to . . .”

He trailed off, then he wrapped his hands around her waist, making her feel as if she weighed no more than a doll as he flipped her over onto her stomach. With his hands grasping her hips, he raised her up on her hands and knees. Before she had time to think about it, to protest that connection of face to face, gaze to gaze, he surged into her from behind, and she cried out in pleasure.

“God, Mick!”

He slung his hips, burying his cock deep inside her. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist and reached between her thighs to press her hard clitoris. She sighed when he began to rub, to pinch, to tug on it.

“I’m going to come,” she told him, nearly breathless.

“No you don’t, Allie girl. You hold it back for me. Don’t you come until I tell you.”

She groaned.

He pinched her clit hard, and she would have jumped if his big body hadn’t been flush up against hers, holding her in place.

He began to move, surging into her, sliding out, and every stroke was exquisite. She was shivering all over, her body working hard not to climax, to hold the need to come at bay. He bucked harder, his fingers tensing on her clit, and she had to bite her lip, to bite her orgasm back.

He was slamming into her, hard enough to hurt, but she welcomed it, needed it. Needed to feel him so deep inside her she would carry the bruises for days.

“Baby . . . Christ, you feel so. Damn. Good. So good . . .”

He wrapped his other arm under her breasts and pulled her up until she was on her knees, his arms holding her tight, his bog cock still ramming into her, over and over.

“Now,” he commanded, and bit into her shoulder.

Her pussy clenched hard as stars exploded in her eyes, the world spinning, dark, void of everything but their two bodies joined together, the pleasure and the pain. His strong arms held her together as her body shattered with sensation.

“Oh . . .”

He was groaning, bucking into her still, his fingers on her clit rubbing, pressing, driving her climax on.

When it was over they collapsed together on the bed, both of them covered in sweat. He still held her, spooning her from behind. His fingers still played lazily with her clit, sending small frissons of pleasure through her.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he murmured, nibbling on the back of her neck.

“Mmm.”

She felt amazing. Raw. Sore. Spent. But there was also that one tiny part of her that wished they’d come looking into each other’s eyes, that understood he’d turned her over for a reason that wasn’t all about the pleasure itself. And it hurt. But she understood that level of true intimacy would take some time.

She tried to let this be enough.

She snuggled back into him and he held her, his hand coming up to smooth over her thigh, sliding up her stomach, her ribs, to cup her breast. He stroked the skin there with his thumb as his breathing calmed.

She could smell the earthy scent of come in the air. Heard the sound of rain coming down outside, splashing against the wide leaves of the banana plant outside her bedroom window. Felt the small chill in the air brought by the rain. She shivered, and he held her tighter.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Wonderful.”

It was true. But the small doubt that had invaded her mind as soon as they’d finished was there, too, and just as true.