He’d made a small adjustment so the dildo was lodged firmly against her G-spot and he watched her shudder. “Don’t talk,” he said. “Now shut your eyes.”

“You don’t like me glaring at you?”

He smiled. “Jesus, what don’t you understand about don’t talk?”

She stuck her tongue out.

“Anytime, baby.” He put his hand on his zipper.

She held up her cuffs. “I’m a little—busy right—now.”

He bent to kiss her. “That’s the way I like you,” he said against her mouth. “This is my kind of busy.” He shoved the dildo deeper and as she lay quivering, he slipped the black silk scarf over her eyes and tied it behind her head. “Tell me if you feel things more intensely now.”

“I still feel like killing you.” But her voice was wispy, and tiny pearly rivulets were sliding down her thighs.

Goddamn, that was one lush centerfold. In another life, he would have ravaged her without compunction. With old habits hammering at his brain, he dragged in a breath of restraint and did a slow ten count to tamp down the worst of his impulses. “Give me a minute, baby. I’ll change your mind,” he said softly, easing the dildo a modicum deeper and tapping it in place. “I’m good at this.”

While she whimpered with ecstasy flaring through her senses, Dominic pushed her plump breasts up and out, until they were perfectly framed by her arms and her nipples were fully accessible. Then he dipped the brush into the jasmine scented lube and ran the sleek sable tip around and around her nipples, watching her crests swell and peak, taking his time, pushing her back down as she arched her spine, tense and greedy, begging for more. “You always rush, baby.” He slid the brush over the heavy swell of one breast, down the deep valley of her cleavage, heard her gasp, and whispered, “Relax. It gets better.”

Restless and frustrated, aching, frantic for release, she violently shook her head, “Let me come,” she whimpered. “You don’t have to do anything for me after. You don’t have to talk about anything. Please, Dominic! Oh God, please!”

“It’s too soon, baby,” he murmured, pinching one nipple until she cried out before releasing it. “Trust me.”

She moaned as the blood coursed through her nipple again, and the pain was replaced by a rush of pleasure, every sensation more intense with her eyes covered, every craving more explosive. She pressed her legs together, trying to bring on her own orgasm.

“No you don’t.” Forcing her legs open, Dominic lifted her ankle over his left arm and, leaning in, used his other hand to brush the slippery sable tip over her taut flesh framing the dildo. Up and down, around and around, while she writhed and whimpered and her whole body began to quake. Then, without warning, he lifted her ankle from his arm and placed her foot on the bed. “Think of something soothing, baby.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed.

“Try that om thing.”

“Fuck you,” she gasped, so overwrought and feverish a thin sheen of perspiration filmed her body.

“All in due time,” he said. “But not yet.” Gripping her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he stretched them gently outward until she squealed. “Too much?” He opened his fingers, watched the taut flesh contract, heard her little feverish whimper, and cupped her big breasts in his palms. “Your tits are swollen and heavy.” He leaned in and nipped her ear. “But your body’s not completely prepared,” he whispered, “for maximum pleasure. When you get there, baby, you’ll be ready for anything.”

She never thought she’d allow him unconditional license. And yet, she was so over-the-top horny now, so utterly consumed by lust, his words sounded like a promise of pleasure rather than a threat. And a moment later, when he slid his finger past the dildo to expose her clit, then lightly skimmed the tip of the brush teasingly over her greedy nub in slow twirling spirals, half-delirious, trembling all over, she cried out. “Please, Dominic. Don’t make me wait. I’m ready now for whatever you want to do.”

How many times, how many hours and days, weeks, months, and years had he played these carnal games? And yet, when Katherine fully, eagerly offered herself up to him, all those former vice-ridden amusements faded into oblivion. Bending low, he gently kissed her trembling lips. “I’m going to go very slowly,” he whispered. “We’ll take our time.” Glazing the pearls with lube from the brush, he added, velvet soft, “You’ll feel the brush first.”

Sliding his hand under her right knee, he lifted it, then set her foot on the bed to allow him better access. Dipping the brush in the scented lube, he slid the sleek tip in slow circles over and around, up and down her virgin entrance while he eased the dildo in and out, slowly, gently, targeting her G-spot for brief moments, then shifting away, knowing the pearls would put added pressure on the dildo and her favorite sweet spot. And when she was delirious with pleasure, panting, needy, the flush of arousal spreading up her chest and throat, he slipped the first lubed pearl past the sensitive opening, heard her helpless whimper turn to a low, lush moan, and seconds later slowly eased in the next pearl… and then the next. Another and another. Until all five were snuggly inside.

She was filled as she’d never been filled before, the forbidden pressure exquisitely arousing, the dildo moving on one side, the pearls flexing on the other. Writhing under the overwhelming invasion, uttering little keening cries, the flush rose hot pink up her throat to her face, signaling her imminent orgasm.