Kate smiled up at him. “That’s sweet.”

He sighed softly. “Look, babe, fucking you isn’t a real imposition, although we might be paying somewhere down the line for this goddamn gamble.”

“You were willing to gamble last time,” she reminded him. “How about I have a turn?”

“It’s okay to make mistakes so long as they’re new ones. We keep making this same one, baby, we’re going to be in trouble.”

“I am an accountant. I can crunch numbers.”

“Could we talk about this later?” he said. “I’m having trouble focusing on more than one thing right now.” Smoothly flexing his legs, he marginally withdrew, then swung his hips forward again and drove into her until he filled her completely and she sighed in bliss. “Later’s good.”

“Jesus Christ.” He laughed. And from that point on, he made sure that she no longer had breath to speak.

But she felt each slow, gliding, perfectly measured invasion and gasped at the plunging depth of each powerful downstroke, the ravishing ripples spreading outward in a sumptuous wave of ecstasy, offering her consecutive glimpses of shining nirvana. She clung to him, his back muscles flexing and moving beneath her wide-spread fingers, the musky fragrance of his hair teasing her senses, the warmth of his body comforting after weeks of deprivation. Trembling and needy, impatient, she whimpered for release.

Her breath was warm on his shoulder, her impatient moans a potent drug to his senses, stiffening his already rock-hard dick, powering his next plunging thrust, and the next and next as he forced himself deeper, buried himself in her velvety warmth, his sense of pleasure so clean and pure, he could have lasted forever.

But only moments later, quivering, nearly unstrung, flushed with passion, Kate looked up, her gaze half-lidded, and begged, “Please, please…”

His eyes wide and clear, he dipped his head, kissed her rosy cheek, and whispered, “Anytime, baby.” Then he smoothly took her over the edge in a billowing, sweet-scented delirium, following her in his own surging climax, spilling freely into her succulent sex.

Then, while Kate was still floating and aglow, he dipped his head, kissed the hollow behind her ear, and in the grip of some manic lust said in a warm hum against her skin, “I’m going to use your tits. You don’t have to move. This one’s for me.”

In one smooth motion he withdrew, rested his weight on his hands, swung his legs up and knelt, straddling her waist.

Just watching the easy, coordinated power, his muscles tense and flex, his lean athletic body move into position with such single-minded intent, triggered an insurgent fascination deep in some evolutionary female reflex. Not only was his visual splendor arresting, Kate thought, but his determined willfulness kindled a sharp, primal response that jolted her senses. Her nipples swelled on cue, hot desire blazed through her body, her sex throbbed in wistful longing, and she softly moaned. Shameless in her greed.

Dominic smiled faintly. This was going to be short and sweet, no games, a purely selfish climax. Maybe next time. “You want some of this, baby?” He gently stroked her taut nipples. “It looks like it.” Effortlessly balancing a hair’s breadth above her ribs, years of surfing forging enviable leg muscles, Dominic drew his erection away from his belly, forced it down between her breasts, and said, “Hold it there.”

As her fingers closed hard around the swollen crest of his dick, he sucked in a breath. “Easy, easy, or this is going to be over in a hurry.” Capturing the outer flare of her breasts in his palms, he pressed his hands together and her soft, resilient flesh framed his rigid length. “I got it now,” he murmured.

His hair had fallen forward, obscuring most of his face, although with high pressure sensation beginning to surge through his brain, he may not have seen her anyway. As the feel of her hands slipped away, he murmured, “Do you want my cum all over you?” A second later, he added under his breath, “That’s not actually a question.” Then his lashes drifted downward, shutting out the world, and without waiting for an answer, he gently thrust into the cushiony silk of her flamboyant cleavage, eased back as the head of his dick touched her neck, swung forward again, and with a soft sigh settled into a highly gratifying rhythm.

But the sound of Katherine’s frenzied breathing soon registered in the small portion of his brain not completely consumed by feverish sensation and he remembered that he wasn’t alone in his unremitting horniness. He didn’t sigh, although he would have liked to. Instead, he summoned his manners—or perhaps he cared enough about Katherine to summon them. “Here, baby,” he said indulgently, taking her hands and positioning them. “You hold your tits. There, tight, like that, so I can feel it. That’s the way. Now you can come along for the ride.” Gently squeezing a nipple with one hand, he reached back with the other, found her swollen clit, slid his finger deeper, targeted her soft, cushy G-spot, and murmured, “How’s that? Feel good?”

Her wispy sigh ended in a soft, low groan. Beyond words at the moment, she nodded.

He got the message and slid in a second finger.

And she suddenly understood, as though the incomprehensible now had meaning, that feeling this intense pleasure had nothing to do with free will but with the willfulness of one Dominic Knight—who held her in thrall. He moved his fingers just then in delicious, lazy circles over her throbbing G-spot, and reflection gave way to a sharp-set, hurtling thrill that tore through her sex, raced up her spine and exploded in a sharp high cry.