He moved around the bed—she couldn’t really see what he was doing, but figured he had ropes attached to the bed frame—and soon he had her ankles tied, legs spread to the corners of the mattress, as well as a doubled length of rope pulled tight across her stomach and over the middle of the bed.

“Better,” he said as he moved back to kneel between her thighs. “I love the way you look like this. Stilled by my ropes. The contrast of the dark rope against your skin, the surrender in your eyes. That just about kills me—I don’t mind telling you that.” He paused, ran a hand down her body—in between her breasts, over her stomach, until his fingers were surging into her once more.

“Oh . . .”

“You know I like to hear that—your sounds of pleasure. Come on, baby, give it to me. Let me take you right to the edge.”

He pumped his fingers—two, maybe three—curving them to hit her G-spot, and she groaned.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

With his other hand he pinched her pussy lips, the pain sending pleasure rocketing through her system.

“Ah, Mick . . . yes . . .”

He thrust hard into her, and her pussy clenched hard around his fingers. He withdrew them.

“Not yet. Breathe for me.”

She did as she was told, pleasure so keen in her body she could barely hold it back, even though he was no longer touching her.

“That’s it. Get it under control. You can do it.”

He pressed into her once more, adding more fingers and spreading them so that it hurt her a little. But pain was pleasure to her, and she had to work to hold back her climax. He held his hand still inside her, his fingers still spread wide. With the other he started to caress her body: her stomach, her breasts, her hips, her thighs, tracing over the bite marks and the tender welts from their previous play. His touch was lovely, his gentle fingertips a sensual contrast to the way he filled her sex with his hand. Desire was sharp, surging hard through her system, and only Mick’s command and his ropes held her orgasm at bay.

He held her there, suspended for endless moments while she took in a breath, let it out, rode that exquisite edge.

“You need to come,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Please.”

“Beg me for it, Allie. Beg for your release. Make me know how much you need it.”

“Oh, God. Please Mick. Let me . . . please make me come. Make me, Goddamn it.”

He laughed as his fingers surged into her, as he bent to suck her hard clit into his mouth.

“Ah!”

She screamed as she came. Screamed his name over and over as pleasure made her shatter, made her shiver. Then made her mutter senselessly as her mind clouded, her body lost in sensation.

“Yes . . . oh, Mick, please . . . yes, that’s it, so good . . . Mmm . . .”

Finally her body calmed, and she was left with tiny sparks of pleasure shimmering through her. Mick pulled away.

“And now, my girl, you are ready for me to fuck you.”

She could only sigh.

Yes . . .

She watched through climax-clouded eyes as he sheathed his thick cock, licking her lips in anticipation. He lowered his body over hers, one arm holding him up as he gripped his cock and guided it to her entrance.

“Do you want it, Allie? Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I need you, Mick. Need you to fuck me. Ah . . . yes . . .”

He angled his hips and plunged into her, all at once and hard, filling her with his flesh.

He immediately started with a fast, punishing pace, his hips ramming against hers, his pubic bone slamming into her mound over and over. Above her his face was a concentration of lust, his eyes gleaming, his wicked mouth loose with pleasure. And pleasure filled her every bit as much as his lovely, big cock while she lay helplessly, unable to do anything but accept the pleasure he gave her. Safe in the ropes.

At this moment what happened between them was his responsibility. Under his control. She reveled in that thought. In his hard fucking. In his utter and absolute command over her body.

His hips arched hard, faster and faster, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Pain and pleasure blended, surged together, and once more her body rose toward climax. Pleasure and pleasure, pain and . . . she came in hard, shuddering spasms, stars exploding behind her eyes.

“Mick! God . . .”

“Ah, baby . . . coming, my baby girl . . .”

She felt him shiver, then his hips jerked hard, and he bent to latch on to her neck, his teeth sinking in.

They were both out of control, beings of pure sensation, needing nothing but this moment.

He fell onto her, his weight pressing her down until she could barely breathe. But she wanted it. Needed it.

Needed him.

*   *   *

MICK GASPED FOR air—the power of his orgasm had stolen every bit of breath from his body. He knew he was crushing Allie beneath him, but it was several minutes before he was able to move. Finally he rolled off her, propped himself up on one elbow beside her. She was watching him, her eyes glazed, a sheen of pure gold over the deep brown. Beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, her full lips that gorgeous dark pink. He leaned down and kissed her mouth, just brushed her lips with his. She was so damn sweet he had to do it again, and then again.

Something in his chest tightened and he pulled back. She blinked, but remained quiet, only the hitching rhythm of her breathing telling him that she felt something, too. Something that went beyond the sex.

No.

But it was the truth, and right now it was too damn hard to hide from, naked as they were, both of them raw and open.

He’d always managed to keep certain parts of himself locked away from the women he played with, slept with. But this was Allie.

“Mick?”

“It’s okay, baby. Let me get you out now.”

He knelt up and untied the doubled rope that held her body down on the bed, swept his palm across her stomach, heard her breath catch as he brushed over the already-bruising bite marks at the curve of her waist. The ropes had left a pattern of shallow indents in her skin, and he smoothed his fingertips over the grooves for a moment before turning to untie her ankles. He did the same there, stroking the rope marks, massaging her feet for a minute or two to ensure the circulation returned, then he massaged her slender ankles, loving the delicacy of the bones there. Finally he moved up, kneeling over her to untie her wrists.

Her arms immediately reached for him, wrapping around his neck as she whispered, “Mick, I need you to hold me. Please.”

He pulled her into his lap and she curled against him, her head on his shoulder. She was all soft, fragrant skin, lean curves and pure yielding girl. He’d never felt any woman’s submission in the way he did with her—giving herself over was so acute because it was something she struggled with. And there was something about her submitting to him. He didn’t think he could fight against it.

He didn’t even know what that meant.

Christ.

His stomach knotted. He wanted to get away. He wanted to never let her go.

He couldn’t let her go yet. He owed her aftercare.

Fuck. He was being an asshole.

What else is new?

Fuck.

She leaned her head back to look up at him. Her eyes had cleared a bit. He shifted her, settling her against the pillows, and sat next to her.

Do what you’re supposed to, damn it.

He reached out and tucked a silky strand of her hair behind her ear. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. That was . . . amazing.”

“Yeah, it was,” he said truthfully.

Too amazing. Too good.

Panic was a hard flutter in his veins. He tried to swallow it down.

“But now you need to talk to me,” she said, softly but insistently.

“We can talk any time, baby. Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink? I’m getting some Gatorade.”