Edge of the Enforcer

Chapter Fourteen

On Saturday, DeVries stalked into Dark Haven in a pisser of a mood. Knowing how much he hated cold weather, Simon had deliberately sent him to install a security system in the iciest fucking part of the country. It had taken an entire week to finish the job. Even the daytime temperatures had been below zero.

“You need some time to cool off,” Simon had said.

DeVries growled. He was gonna gut his boss.

In the entry, he saw Dixon, not Lindsey, behind the desk. Probably for the best. DeVries held out his membership card. Behind him, several other members entered, forming a quiet line.

Dixon took the card by the corner in a blatant show of reluctance, swiped it through the machine, and shoved it back.

Ignoring the insolence, deVries pocketed the card and walked away.

“Have a nice night,” Dixon said and added under his breath, “You bastard.”

Hell. He couldn’t ignore the deliberate rudeness. He grabbed the young man’s chain harness and yanked him over the desk.

The submissive yelped.

With one hand, deVries lifted him by the harness, holding him up like a puppy being punished. “You get to wear a gag in your insolent mouth until your time at reception is done.”

He dropped the white-faced submissive to the ground hard enough to hear his bones rattle. “Am I clear?”

Dixon went to his knees. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

DeVries took a ball-gag from his toy bag and tossed it at the sub. Still pissed off, he glanced at the line of members waiting to enter. Three submissives hit their knees. Two Doms nodded approval. One guffawed.

From behind deVries, Xavier said, “Is there a problem here?”

DeVries turned.

In his usual black jeans, vest, boots, and white shirt, Xavier studied Dixon, who made an I’m-screwed-so-bad whimper.

Mood lightened slightly, deVries answered Xavier. “Nah, no problem.” He nudged Dixon with his boot. “Get back to work, boy. You have people waiting.”

The submissive scrambled up. Fastening the gag straps behind his head, he hurried behind the desk.

Xavier watched him for a moment and motioned toward the main clubroom. As deVries fell into step, Xavier said, “You look a bit battered.”

DeVries shrugged. The bar fight last week had been fairly satisfying, well worth the bruises, which were mostly healed now. “I’m good.”

“How was Montana?”

“Fucking cold.” His irritation returned. “I’m going to murder Demakis and toss his body in the gutter.”

“Simon overreacted.” Xavier’s smile faded, and he gave deVries a level look. “As did you. The girl only did what she thought was right.” Lindsey must have shared with Abby. The Dark Haven community gossiped worse than people on a naval base.

Stopping at a table, DeVries put a foot on a chair and rested his forearms on his thigh. “I know. Took a while to realize it, though.” Maybe he wouldn’t kill Simon after all. Being halfway across the country had kept deVries from showing up on Lindsey’s doorstep and yelling at her…more than he already had. Fuck, he was a dumbass sometimes. “Given she lied about her identity, I figured she’d lied about our relationship too. But—she’s a crap liar.”

“She is.” Xavier leaned a hip against the table. “She’s hurting, Zander.”

Lindsey hurting. At the sudden stab deep in his chest, deVries looked down, half expecting to see a blade jammed between his ribs. He drew in a measured breath. “She has some righteous concerns. I am a sadist; she’s not a masochist.”

Ever since returning from the merc job, his sleep had been filled with gory, violent nightmares. Sure, he could cope, but he also knew a good S/M session would relieve the feeling. It was why he’d come to Dark Haven this evening. “I can live without, but—”

“But Lindsey sees your need. A submissive’s greatest desire is to fulfill your wants. If she can’t, she’ll feel like a failure.”

DeVries ran his hand over his short hair. “She already does.”

“Did you determine what you can do?”

“No.” He scowled. “Or my ass would have been here, no matter what Simon wanted.” The thought of losing Lindsey was a twisting ache in his gut. He missed her sweet body beside him. And how she strained to be polite in the mornings, despite her grumpiness. Her need to feed him. Her ability to listen so hard everything else apparently faded away. Her easy laughter that could turn into the cutest uncontrollable giggles.

Yeah, he fucking missed her.

“I can see her point of view as well as yours.” Xavier didn’t say anything further; the sympathy in his gaze was enough.

“Is she here?”

“No. She hasn’t been in since that night.”

Hell. Dark Haven was the source of most of her friends. “I should never have touched her,” he muttered.

“At one time, I thought that. Now”—Xavier frowned—“I’m not so certain.”

As DeVries jerked up his chin in acknowledgment, he spotted a submissive kneeling a few feet away. “HurtMe, you here for a reason?”

The blond man lifted his head. “For you, Master.” His almost purring voice was an invitation.

“I’m in the mood to push. To make you scream.”

HurtMe bounced in place. “I can take it. Please use me, Master.”

“Don’t call me Master. Go find a cross downstairs.”

“Yes, Sir.” HurtMe rose. Hesitated. “The Victorian nook is empty.”

What was wrong with the man? “People who want privacy use theme rooms. I got no need for privacy.”

HurtMe’s face fell. And he ran downstairs.

“What got into him?” deVries wondered.

Xavier frowned after the masochist. “Later, maybe we should talk about him and his assumptions.”

***

A man’s screams drew Lindsey across Dark Haven’s dungeon.

A couple of steps behind, Rona followed, having insisted on accompanying her to the club. After finishing his meetings, Simon planned to join them later.

“Crom. Someone is sure having a time tonight,” Rona muttered.

The sound of the masculine howls of anguish sent goose bumps down Lindsey’s arms.

Surrounded by observers, the St. Andrew’s cross at the foot of the stairs held the poor victim. HurtMe was getting his wish all right. His entire back was reddened from a heavy flogging. Diagonal cane welts ran down the backs of his thighs. In a few spots, the skin was torn, with blood dotting the long lines. His balls were clamped, and weights hung from them.

Rona frowned. “Surely the top didn’t leave him hanging there. Xavier would have a fit.”

“I don’t see him, though.” Dark Haven had strict rules about never leaving a bound submissive alone. A few seconds later, she realized the standing observers had concealed a man who was taking something from his bag.

The top was deVries. Every blood cell in her vein jumped with yearning.

She took a step back. No. He’s not mine. As the joy drained away, she sagged slightly, feeling the heaviness return. She needed to leave. Lindsey turned to Rona and found someone had tugged her off for a private conversation.

As deVries shook out a heavy flogger and took his position, Lindsey’s mouth went dry. Just look at him. Sweat darkened his faded black T-shirt around the arms and neck. Pumped-up from the exercise, his biceps and shoulders strained against the fabric.

Oh God. Lust tangled with longing. He’d held her with those hard arms. She knew the salty taste of his skin, the growling sound of his voice, the scent of him from the fresh soapy fragrance on his chest to the intoxicating musk of his groin. Her craving for him wrenched her insides.

But he—he didn’t need her. He wanted a masochist. And maybe HurtMe had told her the truth. The minute deVries returned from Montana, there he was with HurtMe. The pain was a knife sliding beneath her skin and gouging right to the bone.

As if to show what she couldn’t possibly give him, the scene continued. When deVries struck, the thick strands of the flogger hit HurtMe’s shoulders with a bone-shaking force, and the masochist whimpered.

“Yell for me, you bastard,” deVries said, his voice rough with enjoyment.

The flogger struck again, and HurtMe screamed.

Lindsey cringed. She could never, ever take that kind of pain. Leave, stupid. Leave.

Her legs wouldn’t move, as if clamps held her feet to the floor. She had to watch. To see the way deVries moved from side to side, striking new areas, easing the blows, changing floggers.

HurtMe slid into subspace; deVries drew him back out. Steadily, the sadist worked the scene into an inevitable climax.

Lindsey’s heart thudded in time to the rising and falling of deVries’s arm. Watching the expressions on his face—the enjoyment, the power, the cruelty—she felt the wetness between her legs increase. The air itself thickened and heated until each breath was a struggle.

After delivering the final blows, deVries removed the clamps on HurtMe’s balls and nipples. Even as the masochist moaned at the influx of blood, the sadist picked up a cane.

God, he wouldn’t. Lindsey couldn’t help crossing her arms over her breasts in sympathy.

With a light in his eyes, deVries smacked the cane over HurtMe’s abused nipples and testicles and finally his straining cock.

Giving a high-wrenching groan, HurtMe came, shaking so hard the cross itself moved, and Lindsey couldn’t tell if his orgasm was from pain or pleasure.

As HurtMe sagged on the cross, Lindsey realized deVries was standing several feet from the man, smiling faintly…but not touching. That seemed odd. When Lindsey came—every time she climaxed—deVries had crushed himself against her as if to let his body absorb every shake and quiver. She licked her dry lips and shifted her thoughts away.

Working methodically, deVries released the masochist and helped him sit on the floor with a blanket around his shoulders. Talking in a soft voice, he handed HurtMe a bottle of water and made sure he drank.

Lindsey frowned as she watched deVries clean the equipment and pack his bag while tending HurtMe with a firm kindness, much as her father had cared for a horse in labor.

HurtMe’s face showed open desire. Despite his hard-on, deVries showed nothing of the sort.

“Are you okay?” Rona asked. A Dark Haven staff member stood beside her.

“I’m confused,” Lindsey whispered.

“Not surprising.” Rona squeezed her shoulder. “Come on. Show’s over.”

“Right.” Her body still burned. Needing…needing something and someone it wasn’t going to receive.

“Lindsey,” Rona prompted, “Xavier sent MaryAnn down to get me. He wants me to check out a submissive who’s bleeding.”

“Go on. I’ll meet you in a bit.” As soon as I can get my body to move. As Rona hurried off after the staff member, Lindsey looked back at the scene.

Having helped HurtMe to his feet, deVries motioned for two of the masochist’s friends to approach.

HurtMe shook his head, set his palms on the sadist’s chest, and leaned forward to whisper.

Lindsey flinched, wanting to smack the masochist and rip his hands away.

No. Not mine. DeVries isn’t mine.

When deVries got a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding scowl, HurtMe lifted his hands, whining, “But, but Master. I want—”

“No, boy. That’s not going to happen.” As deVries turned his back, HurtMe’s friends escorted him away.

Stunned, Lindsey stared. What was that about?

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, deVries glanced over the dispersing audience.

Oh shit. Lindsey edged sideways to retreat.

Too late. His potent stare trapped her, held her in place. His regard traveled from her face down her body and back up. His eyes narrowed.

Then his lips curved…as if he’d won a prize.

Oh, that’s bad. Lindsey sucked in a breath and forced her feet to move. I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t do this again.

She dodged a Master attaching a harness to his pony-slave and had to stop for a submissive kneeling before her Mistress. Finally the way was clear.

A powerful hand closed on her shoulder. “Going somewhere, pet?”

He turned her, forcing her to face her most wonderful dream, most savage heartache. Heather-gray eyes bored right into her soul and twisted every aching emotion.

“I—I was just watching.” When she strove to ease away, his grip tightened. “I’m sorry if my presence bothered you.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Nope. Bothered you, though. I could feel the heat from over there. All excited are you?”

The blood rushed into her face with an almost audible whoosh. “I’m not—”

“Oh baby,” he murmured. “You are.” He slid his hand under her chin, tilting her head for a leisurely perusal. “Seems like watching me hurt someone arouses you.” His voice deepened and dug holes through the barriers she’d raised. “Yeah?”

Couldn’t run. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t lie. Not to him. Even the abject humiliation she felt didn’t prevent her nod.

His hand dropped, the gray in his eyes lightened to green, and the harsh lines bracketing his mouth smoothed into a smile. Hellfire, her heart could resist his irritation, his scowls—not his smiles. With merely his expression, he’d hobbled her like a horse prevented from straying, keeping her where she could be touched. Used.

When he took her hand, she instinctively struggled to pull away. He snorted. “Oh Tex, you know better than that.” With his eyes holding the heat of the previous scene, he wrapped her hair around his fist. “Come with me.”

“No,” she whispered. He kept moving. “Damn you!” She dug in her heels. “Stop.”

To her surprise, he did. Still controlling her hair, he put his other hand on her cheek, and the juxtaposition of control and tenderness wrenched her heart. “Let’s talk. A few minutes. Can you give me that?”

Why did she long to offer him anything he asked for? Knowing her agreement would only lead to more pain, she still nodded.

“Thank you, pet, for the trust.” He touched his mouth to hers—a gentle graze of lips.

To her horror, he steered her into a theme room and closed the door before releasing her.

Lordy, the harem room. She’d looked in a few times, yet never entered. Breathing in the heady fragrance of sandalwood, she turned in a circle. Over her head, dark blue silk draperies angled from the center point of the ceiling to high on the walls and dropped straight down to give the illusion of an opulent tent. A wrought iron screen attached to one wall held ready-to-use wrist and ankle cuffs. “How about we talk upstairs instead?” Where the atmosphere didn’t whisper decadence.

Although his lips twitched, his gaze stayed serious. He took a seat on an ornately carved wooden bench and pulled her between his outstretched legs, holding her hands in his. “You saw the scene with HurtMe?”

She nodded.

“I know you don’t like that level of pain, Lindsey, but, when you watched, what were you thinking?”

“I—” She looked away, trying to think.

“Look at me.” When she met his intense gaze, he said, “Now tell me. All of it. I won’t be angry, but I need to know, pet.”

“I was glad it wasn’t me under your flogger.” She started with the easy answer.

His gaze never left her face as he nodded. And waited.

“Um. I was a little”— a lot—“jealous he and you could share that.”

“All right. Go on.”

“I was…” She didn’t want to confess more. Her throat dried, making the words stick and jumble.

Silence.

“It…it was hot. What you did.”

One side of his mouth tilted up.

Did he think she was silly? Stupid? Anger slid into the unhappiness welling inside her. “You walked away from him. Shouldn’t you be with him now? To finish…” Maybe even to fuck him. The thought made her throat close.

A vertical crease appeared on his forehead. She remembered how she would trace her finger up the tiny valley between his brows.

“Finish what?” he asked. “The scene was over. He doesn’t require much aftercare; he got what he needed.”

“But he wants more. And HurtMe said you were…” She flushed. Aw heck, she’d known. HurtMe hadn’t told her the truth. Or—even worse—he had told her his truth. Maybe that was why she’d been confused—because he actually thought he and deVries had something going on. Regrettably deVries didn’t have a clue.

“What…exactly…did HurtMe say?” His eyes hardened.

Oh spit. “He thought you used me to make him jealous.”

“Why the fuck would I want to do that?” The expression on deVries’s face went from blank to comprehension to irritation.

She wet her lips and spoke carefully. Time for really, really clear speech. “You’re not—weren’t—in a relationship with HurtMe?”

DeVries snorted. “I don’t do guys.” He let her hands go, catching her hips before she could retreat. “If I wanted to fuck men, I would, babe. My dick prefers women.”

“You had an erection during your scene.”

He dug his fingers into her buttocks, pulling her closer. “I’m a sadist, and dishing out pain makes me hard.” He shook his head. “When I was younger, I tried reaming a guy or two. Doesn’t do it for me.”

“But…”

With one big hand curved around her thigh, he used the other to unzip her latex shirt. A hum of enjoyment came from him. “I like breasts,” he murmured, taking one in his hand, weighing it, stroking his thumb over her nipple, sending random flares lighting up her body. “I like cunt. The way you smell. The softness. The sound of a woman’s voice when she gets off.”

He wasn’t upset. Not trying to prove something. Just stating the facts with an undeniable conviction. This was deVries. He knew himself. Knew what he liked.

“I think you should talk with HurtMe.” No matter how much he’d added to her upset, normally the masochist was a nice guy. Perhaps confused. “I know emotions can get muddled when two people scene together and make such a connection. He believes there’s more between you than there is.”

“I’ll give Xavier a heads-up, and I’ll talk to HurtMe.” His lips quirked. “Can’t beat on him—he’d enjoy it too much.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Softhearted baby.” DeVries’s mouth went firm. “So, you were confused, but you didn’t come to me for the truth. Even worse, you didn’t give us a chance to talk about the problems of me being a sadist. That’s going to change in the future.”

What future? She nodded.

His expression said he wasn’t buying her silent concession. “And you’re figuring there’s no future because you can’t fill my needs.”

“I can’t.”

“Lindsey.” His hands stroked her waist under the shirt. “How do you define being exclusive?” His mouth twitched. “Or, as you put it, going steady.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Exclusive means you don’t fuck anyone else, right?”

“Of course.”

He slid his hands under her matching latex skirt to cup her bottom before moving higher to tease the sensitive hollow above her buttocks.

Her toes curled under.

He asked, “Does doing an S/M scene with someone else violate those terms—if there’s no fucking involved?”

Flustered by the intimate knowledge he displayed of exactly where to touch her, she tried to think. “I…don’t know.”

He smiled.

“I didn’t agree.”

“No, but, pet, you’re thinking about it.” He drew her closer and nuzzled between her breasts. “If you get hot and bothered while you watch me whip a guy, I’d consider it a win all around.”

“You want me to watch?”

His eyes glinted. “Baby, if you’re in the building when I’m doing a session, I’m going to tie you up in the corner so I can keep an eye on you.”

She started to say he was insane, only remembered the caning and wand scene he’d done with johnboy. How Master Rock had been delighted deVries had given his slave what he couldn’t—and afterward had reaped the benefits.

Could she do that? “I… We can try.”

“Good.” His strong fingers massaged her bottom as a corner of his mouth tipped up. “We’ll start now.”

FUCK, HE’D MISSED having his hands on her. DeVries felt his control shredding inch by inch. But little Tex was all female, so she probably wanted to talk shit over for another hour. Had good reason, really since she’d had, hell, almost as bad a week as he’d had…though, at least, she hadn’t frozen her damned balls off.

He wasn’t going to talk now.

She’d get a lengthy chat…later. He closed his thighs to trap her between his legs long enough to yank her shirt off. Unzipped her skirt and let it drop. Sat back to enjoy the sight. “Damn, you have a gorgeous body.” And he watched her blush from her pretty little tits to her face with the compliment.

But taking her without thought to what had happened would set a bad precedent. “Now you’re dressed appropriately, kneel in front of me. Eyes down.”

Indecision wrinkled her brow. Yeah, the lack of talking had done damage. Nonetheless when he straightened slightly, she went to her knees. There it was. As a submissive, she wanted control—his control. When she’d broken them apart, they’d lost that instinctive balance.

Before clouding the issue with sex, he needed to set their D/s relationship straight. He studied her face as he considered.

She’d made decisions. He didn’t want a submissive who didn’t think for herself. Hell, no. Neither would he let one choose for them both without talking it over. She’d misstepped, and in a way he couldn’t ignore. Her arbitrary actions had almost cost them each other…and she had to know down deep he wouldn’t tolerate that again.

She had to be punished. Right now. For future mishaps, he’d have the time to figure out more appropriate punishments, but here, they needed the intimacy of sex to reforge their bonds.

First, pain to break down the barriers, followed by pleasure to bring them back together.

“I don’t want to do this,” he said resolutely. “But when you ended our relationship without discussion, you disrespected our partnership, my authority, everything we were building.”

She nodded, her lower lip between her teeth.

“To start with a clean slate, I’m going to punish you. Got any questions about why?”

Her shoulders tensed, and yet she shook her head. Her quick glance at his bag made him smile. Newer submissives worried about impact toys, never realizing a spanking could sting even worse.

“No toys, pet.” He patted his thighs. “Right here; right now.”

Her arms closed around her waist in a telling fashion. Breaking up had hurt her badly, even if she’d been the one to do it. Now her subconscious was trying to keep a distance between them.

Too bad. He wouldn’t permit any distance…which was why he wanted the intimacy of a bare-ass, bare-hand spanking. “Now.”

He’d seen snails move faster. Finally she draped herself over his knees. Hands flat on the floor, toes on the other side. Damn, she had the sweetest ass. Soft and heart shaped. “I’m sorry to have to do this, Lindsey,” he said. “I hate hurting you when you don’t enjoy it…and you’re not going to like this.”

No warm-up. No fun. He simply gripped her shoulder and started smacking her ass. Hard and fast, one cheek followed by the other. It only took a few slaps to have her squirming and kicking. She rose up, trying to use her hand to protect her butt—so he captured her wrist, pinned it in the small of her back, and continued.

She struggled harder. “Dammit, stop. I don’t like you anymore. Let me go!”

No safeword. He stopped to rub her buttocks briefly, letting her hope he was done, letting the nerves recover. And he started again. Slap, slap, slap.

She fought to kick him. “You fucking asshole. I h-hate you!”

He closed his eyes, breathing through the pain of her words. Didn’t mean them; he knew it. Still hurt. “I’m unhappy you feel that way, babe.” He spanked her, not harder. Not softer. Seemed like forever.

She broke, her sobs filling the room, shaking her shoulders. “I’m s-s-sorry, Zander. I’m sorry.”

Thank fucking God. He stopped, pulling in air through his nose. After a minute, he managed to unclench his jaw. “God, baby, I don’t like this. Don’t make me do this again.” Why the hell had it been so hard to punish her? He was fucking known as the Enforcer in Dark Haven. Jesus, hopefully someone would shoot him before he ever had to discipline her again.

Her crying didn’t stop, but she nodded her agreement.

Eventually, his guts settled. “Tell me what you learned, Lindsey.”

She sniffled. “I-I-if I hear something, I talk to you about it. And we discuss what’s wrong between us.”

He considered. “Yeah, that covers it.” With a feeling of relief, he boosted her up and set her in his lap. She didn’t pull away but buried her face in his shoulder and cried. Yet even as she did, she relied on him to hold her. Comfort her.

Jesus, yes. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head, feeling his world return to normal.

When her sobbing had moved to hitched breathing, she lifted her face. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you first.”

Fuck, she was going to unman him with her sweetness. “It’s past.” He used his fingers to wipe away her tears. “I fucked up too. Said shit.” Guilt lodged in his chest. “You want to hit me, I’ll take it. I deserve it.”

“Like I could even dent those muscles of yours?” She rubbed her cheek against his hand and was silent a moment. “I just won’t make you cookies for a week.”

Hell, he’d looked forward to her cooking. “You got a mean side in you, babe.” He kissed her damp face. “We’ll both do better next time.” Next time. Had a good sound. A future.

“Next time.” She bit her lip. “I didn’t ask you before…because you looked unhappy. But—”

“Go on.”

“The mercenary stuff. How—isn’t the work awfully dangerous?”

She was worried about him. Damn. Damn, he liked that. “It’s risky.” He tipped her face up and kissed her slowly. “And last week was my final mission as a merc. I told them I was quitting on Thanksgiving.” Iceman was now retired. Damn straight.

“But…” Her eyes softened. “You took the job because it was a child.” She read the answer in his face. “You have a big ol’ mushy heart, Sir.”

“You want another spanking?”

She giggled and twisted in his arms. “Nope. I have something else I think you should do.” Gripping the hem of his shirt, she yanked it off.

“Bossy, aren’t you?” Lifting her with her round, red ass in his hands, he carried her to the pile of cushions filling one quarter of the room. By the time he got there, his cock was straining against his leathers.

He went to his knee, shoved her back onto the pillows, and stopped for a moment to enjoy the sight. A hanging wrought iron light illuminated her golden body surrounded by the rich blues and dark red cushions. Her streaky brown hair waved over her breasts, leaving the pink-brown peaks jutting up. Her legs were open, her cunt wet with her arousal.

And the scent was…captivating.

Kneeling between her thighs, he ran his hands over her curvy shape, teased her nipples to even tighter points, and smiled as her hips wiggled. Fuck he loved making her squirm. Making her eyes glaze over. And this time, he was going to let her move as much as she wanted.

“C-can I touch you?” she whispered, trying so hard to be a good submissive it warmed his heart.

“Sure, baby, touch me.”

Eyes lighting, she pulled him down onto her and kissed him. Her soft hands stroked his face, his shoulders, his back.

Yeah, here was home. He reveled in the welcome, simply enjoying the anticipation…until it became too much.

Back on his knees, he inhaled, smelling the musky fragrance of a woman in need. He bent, licked around her clit, entertained by her sharp gasp. The pink nub was swollen, exposed, easy to tease…and from the way her breathing changed, she’d get off like a rocket if he continued.

He hesitated, wanting to feel her come from his mouth. And yet…for this first time in what seemed like forever—what could easily have been forever—he needed to be inside her. He wrapped her legs around his waist and undid his leathers, letting his dick out to play.

When he fit himself to her entrance, she clenched his shoulders, trying to tug him closer. Oh yeah, that too—he had a need to see the yielding look in her eyes when he exerted his control. “Hands over your head.”

THE DEEP GROWL seemed to stroke over every nerve in her body. Lindsey looked up into Zander’s face, saw the determination in his jaw, the authority in his gaze, and everything inside her did a shimmy. She put her arms over her head, crossing her wrists as she’d been taught.

He restrained her wrists with one big hand, pressing down enough her back arched. Looking into her eyes, he whispered, “I’m gonna take you so hard you’ll feel me for a week…and now you can’t do a thing to stop me.”

The shiver running down her spine turned to a molten heat at the base.

He pressed his cock against her, slid inside a fraction of an inch, and took her in one long, forceful thrust, not stopping until he was sheathed completely.

Oh God. From empty to shockingly, uncomfortably full. Her head tilted back as she gasped for air. Her pussy spasmed around the intrusion in protest that transformed into need.

“Fuck, I like that look on your face,” he muttered. His eyes were ruthless, dangerous. “Give me more.” He drew out steadily and plunged home again. And again. His gaze never wavered from hers as he increased the pace. The force.

The hammering set up an overwhelming sensation sweeping her away. With his heavy weight on her, his unyielding hold on her wrists, every merciless stroke took her higher, pushed her toward the inevitable.

And then she crested—plunging headlong as brilliant spasms shook her, surging outward until her whole body trembled with the climax. The darkness behind her closed eyelids sheeted to white. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, seeking more, more, more.

As the waves receded, she managed to open her eyes.

His gaze was still on her face. His smile tight. Not satisfied. “Nice. Now give me another one.”

Unable to move, she stared at him. “What? I can’t.”

“Babe, you know that’s not true,” he chided and released her hands. After tucking his elbow behind her knee, he planted that hand beside her shoulder, forcing her bent leg up in the air. Tilting her hips upward so his cock went even deeper. He kissed her lightly, nipped her chin. “I like being this far inside you,” he whispered. “Now, let’s see how you feel around me when you come this way.”

“Zander…I—”

His other hand settled over her mound. After slicking a finger in the wetness, he slid it over her clit.

At the exquisite surge of pleasure, her insides clamped down around him, making him laugh. “Oh yeah.” His gaze focused on her face, like an inescapable light showcasing her very soul. “Hands on my shoulders—and keep them there.”

As she obeyed the verbal restraint, she felt even more helpless than before. His arm held her leg up, his weight held her pinned to the bed, and his shaft was filling her so, so full. Instead of pounding her, he gradually withdrew only to bury himself in stages, rotating his hips to hit new places.

His finger slid over the tiny ball of nerves, around, on top, relentlessly rubbing one side, before bringing the other side up. Between his cock and his touch, every nerve swelled until she couldn’t tell if sensations were coming from her clit or from within. Her legs quivered as her thighs tensed, her stomach tensed, her arms…

Sweat dampened her temples. “I’m going to come,” she whispered, straining upward toward his teasing.

“Yeah, baby, you are.”

“You come too.”

His gaze was tender. “Right after, pet.” He kissed her lips lightly, and his finger slid from one side of her clit to the other, sending her up, up, up.

As she hovered on the pinnacle for the most perfect moment, she heard him murmur, “I like to watch you get off.”

And ever so slowly he pulled back, until only the tip of his erection pulsed at her entrance. Staring into her eyes, he slammed in, hard and deep.

Oh, oh, oh. Everything inside her clenched around the intrusion, stopping the entire world before spasming over and over. The overwhelming pleasure seized her, engulfed her until her nipples tingled and her skin shimmered with sensation.

“Sweet,” he murmured, and as he’d promised, his cock pistoned into her hard enough to hit the edge of pain, the edge of helplessness, before he set his forehead against hers. The cords stood out on his neck, his jaw was tight, as he let himself go, filling her with his heat.