Holly was just beginning to relax under his touch when she heard the tinkle of metal against metal and noticed that one of her hands was completely free from his grasp.

Before she had time to react, the handcuffs were slapped onto her free wrist and he was crouching over her, stretching out her shackled arm until he was able to attach the other ring to her wrought iron headboard.

"Damn it!" She cried, yanking on her arm to determine if he'd left enough room for her to wiggle loose. She grunted in frustration as he lowered himself back on top of herself. Now she was firmly attached to the headboard and trapped beneath his incredibly warm, hard body. Evidently he'd been able to stow the handcuffs somewhere on his person while using his very distracting lips to divert her attention. The man was diabolical.

"C'mon now." He coaxed. "Don't be a sore loser. I'm willing to compromise. If you promise not to poke my eyes out or leave any scars, I'll even let you keep one hand free. What do you say?" He loosened his grip on her opposite wrist, but then tightened it again when she tried to jerk it out of his grasp.

"Promise me," he taunted as his free hand gently tugged her camisole strap down her arm and he gave her shoulder blade a soft, sensual lick.

"Really?" She asked suspiciously. "Why?"

"Well, I know you're really into sticking to this whole 'at my mercy' script, but I'd really like it if you touched me. In fact, I can't wait much longer for that to happen. So, I won't keep you trussed up like a prize calf as long as you play nice. Meaning that the blindfold stays on and at no point do you draw blood." His voice grew quite husky as he added one last addendum. "Unless it's because you lose control when I'm deep inside you. Then I'm really okay with some nail gashes in my back. Or in my forearms if I happen to be taking you from behind." He rubbed his very prominent hard-on against her upturned buttocks for emphasis. "What do you say?"

Holly's lower body clenched at his bold words and she felt an unfamiliar rush of moisture pooling between her thighs. Did he actually think she would react that strongly to his sexual skills? Despite her current heightened state of arousal she couldn't really imagine herself being so mindless with pleasure that she would actually lose control to such a degree that she drew blood. But she was wildly curious to find out if it was possible. She cleared her throat and tried to sound bored. "And where would you like me to touch you exactly?"

His chuckle was full of dark sensuality. "Well, I have a few areas in mind, but if you promise not to maim me then I'll let you choose. How does that sound?"

"Anywhere?"

"Nothing off limits. Except my ribs. I'm a bit ticklish."

She felt herself smiling at that. A tickle fight would certainly put her fantasy permanently off the rails, but might be fun under very different circumstances. She imagined a wrestling match would quickly ensue, followed by a battle for who would assume the sexually dominant position. If only she had the freedom to pursue that kind of light-hearted fantasy instead of the serious one her own troubled subconscious demanded.

"Hmmm… I don't know." Having one of her hands free was so very tempting. She really did want to explore his powerful body with one hand, at least, but in the dream she had been completely subdued and unable to interact with her attacker in any way. He had been in charge and that was kind of the point of her fantasy. If she was the uncompromising victim then she couldn't feel guilty for taking pleasure in the situation. Willingly using her hands on him definitely crossed the line into complicity and made her a partner in her own seduction. And that wasn't supposed to happen, no matter how much she ached to touch him. She couldn't help but wonder how far off script could she go and still exorcise the dream from her system.

"Too late. I'm putting the other cuff on," he said, bouncing off her with surprising agility for such a large man he deftly flipped her onto her back and then gently lifted her until she was lying face up in the middle of the bed again. He then straddled her waist and leaned over her as he brought her other wrist up to the headboard so he could fasten it to one of the bars.

"No! Stop! I'll touch you. Leave it off." She cried, the words bursting forth before she'd even realized she'd made her decision.

He froze above her. "Really? Where? Where do you want to touch me?" He demanded, lowering her wrist until it rested on the pillow beside her head.

"Your face. I want to touch your face. And you can't touch me while I'm doing it."

He sighed and eased back until he was no longer looming over her. "Not exactly what I was hoping for but it's a start." He gently carried her small hand to his face, gave her fingertips a lingering kiss and then let go of her hand.

The first thing Holly noticed was how far she had to stretch her arm to reach his face. He was still sitting astride her waist and his torso was very long. Warmth seemed to radiate off his skin, even through his T-shirt and she could feel the heavy weight of his arousal pressed into her stomach as he leaned forward to give her better access to his face.

She had meant to do a very perfunctory examination of his facial structure, but tracing his mouth with her thumb was such an unexpected pleasure that she found herself lingering over the task. His lips were just as soft as they'd seemed when they'd been lingering on her neck earlier. When he playfully opened his mouth and nipped at the meaty flesh of her thumb and then sucked it into his mouth to soothe it she felt another rush of heat between her thighs. She pressed her legs together, seeking some relief from the tension in her body, but that just made the emptiness seem more apparent.

For the first time in her life she was aware that she desperately needed something to relieve that ache. She needed his hand or his mouth there, between her legs. But more than that she wanted his big, hard cock thrusting deeply within her body. Relentlessly pounding into her until she achieved the ecstasy that had always eluded her. Until now.

Holly felt her cheeks flushing at her thoughts. What had this man done to her? They hadn't even kissed yet and she was squirming with desire for him. It was downright scary what the right situation and some truly explosive chemistry could do to an otherwise reasonable and formerly frigid woman.

Needing a distraction from her weeping pussy, she moved her fingers away from his treacherous mouth and swept them up the strong blade of his nose. It wasn't a small nose, and she could tell by the bump in the bridge that he'd probably broken it at least once or twice.

"I know what you're doing," he said, his breath sending warm puffs of air against her arm.

"What am I doing?"

"You can try to memorize my face with your adorable fingers all you want, but you won't be able to identify me. That only happens in the movies."

Despite herself, she giggled. That's exactly what she'd been thinking when she'd chosen his face as her touch zone. But now she was enjoying the tactile sensation of his skin under her hands too much to think about picking him out of a line-up. That would n ever happen, of course. This was just a fantasy after all.

"What's this?" She asked as her fingertips skidded over a rough patch high on one cheek bone. It felt like a long cut, about two inches long, with stitches still embedded in his flesh.

"That's nothing for you to worry about. I got into a fight recently."

"Did you climb in the wrong window?"