To her relief, the tray of food was already delivered and sitting on a table by the bed, which meant she didn’t have to face any hired help in the nude. The sheets and covers had been pulled back and the pillows repositioned at the head of the bed.

Damon, it seemed, did indeed like his creature comforts.

He gestured for her to climb onto the bed, and it was only after she crawled onto the plush mattress that she saw the rope and satin cuffs secured to the bedpost on her side of the bed.

She glanced back uncertainly at Damon, but his expression didn’t change. He expected obedience, and his stance didn’t offer any alternative.

He waited until she turned around and settled against the pillows before he reached for her left hand. She watched in shocked fascination as he pulled the rope with the cuff from the bedpost and secured the cuff around her wrist. Silently, he captured her other hand and brought it around to the small of her back where he secured it with the other cuff so that her hands were bound together behind her.

She wasn’t even going to ask the obvious question of how the hell she was going to eat, because after his speech and countless reminders of how he would take care of her every need, she had a suspicion of just how she was going to consume her food.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked as he stood by the bed.

She nodded. And she was. The bed was wonderfully soft. Not too soft, though. It molded to her body, contouring perfectly as it cradled her. It would be heaven to sleep on.

Satisfied with her response, he walked around to the other side where the dinner tray sat, and he sat on the bed beside her. After spending a few moments preparing a plate from the dishes arranged on the cart, he then scooted back against the pillows and sat cross-legged, the plate resting on his lap.

It smelled wonderful.

There was roasted chicken with scalloped potatoes and a decadent looking chocolate dessert waiting on the side.

Damon cut into the chicken, arranging bite-sized portions on the plate. When he was finished, he forked one of the pieces and held it to her lips.

For a moment she simply stared at him, wondering why she didn’t feel ill at ease at what he proposed to do. He waited, patiently, the chicken resting lightly on her bottom lip. Finally she opened her mouth, and he carefully slid the fork inside.

How strange that he could make the act of feeding her, as though she were helpless, so intimate and loving. There was such tenderness to his actions, such regard for her, that she couldn’t muster any discomfort over him feeding her while she sat there, bound and naked, in his bed.

Even more curious was the way he made her crave his attention. As soon as he gave her one bite, she hungered for another, not because of the food but because of his regard.

He alternated feeding her with taking his own part of the meal. She watched the bites slide into his mouth, watched his lips run over the tines of the fork that her mouth had touched. His warmth still lingered on the metal when he next placed it in her mouth.

When it slid from her lips, clean, he trailed it gently down her chin, down the column of her neck and to her chest. The tines were lightly abrasive, scratching along her skin, eliciting a shiver in their wake.

He topped the rise of her breast and ever so lightly skimmed the tip over her nipple. Her shoulders shook, making her breasts bob, which rubbed her nipple rapidly across the fork.

When he pulled it away, her breaths were coming in shallow bursts. How much more teasing could she take before the need for her orgasm drove her to insanity? She ached. Her pussy ached. Her breasts strained, so tight and sensitive that each brush across them was agonizing.

He returned to his plate, carefully picking at the remainder of the food. He fed her three more bites before pushing the cart away from the bed.

When he rolled back over to face her, he reached behind her back to free her hands. But before she could pull them in front of her, he merely repositioned her arms over her head and refastened the cuffs around her wrists.

“Find a comfortable position,” he directed.

As best as she could, she shimmied down until she was lying on her back, her head nestled among the pillows. He tested her bonds and instructed her to roll right and then left. Satisfied that she could move freely, he pulled away and ran his hand freely down her body.

He rested on his side next to her, his head propped in his palm as he regarded her with contented eyes.

“Before we go to sleep, I thought I should acquaint you with more of my expectations so that you aren’t taken by surprise,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at that. He’d been pretty darn clear in what he expected. What else could there be? But she didn’t voice that thought, and she waited for him to continue.

He smiled. “You wanted to object. I admire your restraint, but more than that, I am pleased by your desire to please me.”

Not knowing what to say to that or if he required a response, she remained silent.

“Sex,” he said. “Your body is mine to do with what I want. This means that I take you when I want, how I want, sometimes with your pleasure in mind, sometimes with mine. It is at my discretion as to when you achieve satisfaction.”

He waited as though expecting her to speak, but she was figuring this out pretty quickly. He wanted compliance, and so she would give it to the best of her ability.

Again, he looked pleased when she merely waited for him to continue.

“It is a particular pleasure of mine to have sex when I awaken, when my mind is still clouded with sleep but my body craves the sweetness of a woman. I’ll mount you while you are tied to my bed, helpless to do anything but give me what I demand.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her thighs together to try and alleviate the burn. He was going to make her come with no more than his voice.

A finger trailed over the swell of her breast and then circled her puckered nipple.

“You questioned me about why I wanted you nude at all times. Part of the reason is that I find the female body the truest form of art. I like to enjoy it. I like to gaze upon it, especially when I know it belongs to me. The main reason, however, is that I intend to enjoy unimpeded access to your body. I like the idea of being able to fuck you when I want, how I want. I can enjoy your mouth, your pussy and your ass with little more than the effort it takes to bend you over the couch, or my chair or my lap. As you walk by, I can reach out and take you. I can press you against the wall and take you from behind. You won’t deny me. I won’t allow it. Unless you are injured or ill. Or you say no. Once you say no, it ends.

“So you see, Serena, despite all the power you have ceded me, it still rests very much in your hands. You have complete and utter control over your fantasy because with one word, it all ends.”

She was balanced precariously on the edge of the sharpest of orgasms. She was going to come despite the fact that he hadn’t touched her more intimately than on her breasts. Flash images of him taking her in all the ways he described battered her mind. Her body swelled and quivered. Oh God, it was coming, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

As she fought the inevitable, suddenly Damon was over her, spreading her legs with urgent hands. He rammed into her, and her gasp of surprise quickly became a shrill cry of release. As soon as his cock reached its depths within her, her orgasm exploded with vicious ferocity.

Her vision blurred as he humped over her body, his hips pummeling hers with speed and strength. Her body wasn’t her own. It had broken into tiny little pieces, sharp and jagged. Pleasure foamed in her groin, swelling and splintering outward, and still he thrust. Deeper. Harder. Unmerciful.