Her eyes were shut, her nipples taut, stiff peaks, her breathing erratic, the rosy flush rising up her neck and face manifest arousal.

“Answer me, baby. Are we good?” He didn’t require an answer; he just wanted one.

She recognized the small gruffness in his voice. She could have refused to answer, but swamped in blissful delight, she was more than willing to appease him. Her lashes lifted slightly, she held his cool blue gaze and smiled. “Everything’s perfect.”

“Right,” he said. Shoving the smooth lavender object deeper, he watched her face. “How’s that? More perfect?”

She gasped as the pressure on her G-spot intensified and the invading mock dildo nudged the ben wa balls deeper so they slid titillating and smooth as silk along the rich network of seething, skittish nerves that were switched on to hot and horny. Greedy for more of that exquisite, carnal jolt, wildly impatient, she flexed her hips, reaching for the next flame-hot, explosive thrill—the tinkle of bells marking her restless urgency.

“You like that?” he whispered, neither expecting a reply nor requiring one. It was her playtime. He was only the means to that end.

Placing the heel of his palm just above the cusp of her pubic bone, he pressed gently, and was gratified when she instantly went still. It wasn’t that he’d doubted her abstinence the month past—or at least not much—but her swift response soothed any niggling suspicions. She was hungry for sex, her orgasmic trigger rocket ready.

Oh Christ. Since when did he micro-manage a woman’s personal sex life?

Then the first small orgasmic ripple flared through Kate’s long-deprived, Dominic-famished senses and she gasped, “Sorry… I can’t wait.”

He smiled. Some things never change. “Don’t be sorry, baby; that’s why I’m here. So you don’t have to wait.” And his uneasy thoughts gave way to more immediate issues. Increasing the pressure of his palm on the immovable object solidly submerged in Katherine’s lush sex, he gently massaged her sweet spot, fully aware of her breath-held, eyes-shut, on-the-brink tremors. Her back was arched, her body taut, the slight, irresistible quiver signaling her imminent climax fluttering under his palm. “Need a little help?” A whisper soft rhetorical question he answered himself. “Try this.” Slipping his other hand between her legs, he gently eased his middle finger between the make-shift dildo and her swollen clit, and delicately stroked the sleek, distended nub. Listening to her tiny, vaporous whimpers quicken as her arousal began peaking, he softly caressed her clit with a well-practiced facileness, and enchanted with her complete lack of control, he watched her wild, headlong, careening race to climax.

Then, moments later, as she hurtled over the edge, he smiled indulgently, pleased with the degree and intensity of the powerful, roiling orgasmic tidal wave engulfing her.

He calmly waited for her inevitable scream.

But Kate was holding her breath against the sheer, stunning ecstasy melting through her body, instinctively preserving what she had so long missed—the fathomless splendor, the incomprehensible rapture, the hot, hot, hot delirium.

Until ultimately her lungs rebelled.

She gasped for air.

Taking advantage of the momentary pause, Dominic placed the tip of the slender cucumber where his finger had been, forced the additional dildo deeper, gently jammed it against both her clit and G-spot, then nudged it an infinitesimal distance more. “Is it too much?” he murmured just before he placed his palm against the portion still visible and pushed.

Her scream shattered the stillness, her entire body went still, and a second tempestuous orgasm overtook her in a scorching explosion of pleasure piled upon seething pleasure that lasted and lasted…

Dominic was technically adept when it came to sustaining orgasmic sensation and particularly interested in pleasing the beautiful young woman who’d sabotaged his entire way of life, reconfigured his notions of personal freedom, and, in artless compensation, given him inexplicable happiness.

This was his version of welcoming her back.

Sometime later, Kate felt the world return by slow degrees: sound, marginal perception, smell—God she loved Dominic’s shampoo. Musky and sweet, with a faint undertone of cedar that reminded her of home. She opened her eyes.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

She gazed up into Dominic’s handsome face and his amused blue gaze. “You feel smug, don’t you?” But her voice was languorous, soft with contentment.

He shook his head, the faint movement dislodging a sweep of black hair he’d shoved behind his ear. “Just useful.”

Her smile was serene. “Modest too.”

He shrugged. “You’re always easy. You know that.”

Knowing just how wrong that statement was with anyone but him, she chose to change the subject. He was the least likely man to appreciate her confession. He had women falling all over him. She expected he always had. “Your hair’s longer,” she said, redirecting her thoughts and the conversation.

“I was too lazy to have it cut.” And too indifferent when his life had been totally fucked.

“I like it.” She reached up and slipped the errant tress behind his ear.

“I like everything about you,” he said simply.

“Good, because you’ve become my drug of choice, my addiction, my greatest pleasure.” She gave him a shaky smile. “You can’t leave this time,” she whispered.

“I won’t.” He didn’t even question his promise or debate who had left whom. In fact, he was seriously considering locking up Katherine and throwing away the key.