He nipped the top of her ear. “You?”

“Please,” she begged, finally understanding in the grips of a merciless sexual haze what he wanted, knowing that soon she’d come whether he allowed it or not. Never had she been this close to orgasm. Now she understood the videos. The women she’d seen had been hovering on the brink the entire time. It wasn’t impossible to have an orgasm on command if you were constantly dangling on the edge of one. Her entire body was quaking, muscles trembling violently as her teeth started to rattle.

“Please what?”

He refused to let her look away when she tried to lower her head, forcing her to meet his unwavering stare. “Please let me come, Michael. Please.”

His thumb stroked her lip just before he leaned in for another kiss. She wailed into his mouth, unable to help herself as warmth built in her stomach. By the time he pulled away, she knew she didn’t have time to ask again. She was going to come. She was too excited, to needy and too damn sexed to hold back.

“Come for me, angel.”

She did exactly that, shattering into a million pieces, becoming lightheaded as her body thrashed and her muscles flexed. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel and bask in the glory of the greatest climax of her life. Michael’s finger was gentle but insistent on her clit, keeping the sensation going for as long as possible. She writhed in ecstasy, the suctioning walls of her pussy clamping down on his finger. The strength in her arms and legs gave out and she collapsed against the table in a heap.

“That was perfect.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You’re so damn sexy when you come.

Next time I’ll have you lying face up on the table so you can watch yourself and I’ll use my tongue instead of my hand. How does that sound?”

The heat of his body vanished and she clung to the table, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

Her stomach knotted as she imagined watching herself in the mirror as Michael buried his blond head between her legs. The mixture of anticipation, uncertainty and danger was a potent combination, eliciting all new quivering in her arms, legs and abdomen.

Something soft tickled her lower back, tiny wisps of fabric brushing her skin. She lifted her head and turned to see Michael caressing her with the tails of a flogger. The handle was black, the dangling strands a beautiful, vivid red.

“Do you know what this is?”

After licking her suddenly parched lips, she managed to murmur, “A flogger.”

“That’s right. This one is made of deerskin, so it’s soft and gentle, which is exactly what we want the first time out of the gate.” He ran the tails of the flogger up and down her ass, teasing her skin.

“How does that feel?”

“Good,” she sighed, placed her head on her forearms and relaxed as he continued. The tips of the leather tickled the surface of her skin, the deerskin extremely soft and velvety. This was the one concern she’d had when watching BDSM videos online. Sexual pleasure was something she was all for, not pain.

As if reading her mind, Michael said, “I’m not into excessive punishment, whips or canes. I prefer sensual to pain play.” He stopped talking, the flogger tails vanished and the sharp, unexpected slap of his palm on her ass had her lurching upright.

“What was that for?”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to ask a question.” There was humor in his voice as pressed his hips into her, the contour of his rigid cock evident against her back. He pulled away and yanked on her panties until the material was wedged between her ass cheeks, leaving her totally at his mercy.

“What are your safe words?”

“Y-yellow and r-red,” she stammered, gasping for breath, suffocating once more in sexual need.

His weight vanished and the wisps of the flogger returned, so tender and light. When they vanished she braced herself for another hearty slap of his hand and was rewarded by the sharp sting of the leather against her skin. It wasn’t painful. Rather the silken strands created buzzing electricity that coursed through her body from the point of contact all the way to her bones.

“How does that feel?” Michael breezed the tails of the flogger along her skin.

How did it feel? It wasn’t painful or unpleasant. “It feels…okay.”

“I’ll take that as a go.” He laughed softly. “Hold on to the table. I want to see how pretty your ass looks when it’s red.”

She wrapped her fingers around wooden edge when the flogger came down again—harder this time. He alternated firm strokes, bringing the strips of leather down on her left cheek before doing the same with the right. It stung slightly at first but felt incredible as the skin heated and the air seemed to cool the burn. Like a deep tissue massage that ached before the muscle settled and relaxed.

“You’re doing so well.” Michael didn’t stop as he praised her. “Your skin turns a beautiful shade of pink when it’s flogged. I imagine it looks like this following a trip to the beach, when you’ve worn sunblock but manage to get a sunburn.”

Anything she wanted to say came out as whimpers and moans. Her tongue was too heavy in her mouth, her lips shaking too hard to form an adequate verbal response. Minutes had passed and her ass was hot. She was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and she had never wanted to be fucked so badly in her life. Each time the flogger landed she rocked into the strands, rubbing her sensitive nipples against her lacy bra and the leather bench beneath her, pushing her hips against the table, desperate for more.

He stopped and ran a cool hand along her warm and aching backside. “You should see how sexy your ass looks, all marked and red, and your skin is so hot and sensitive.” She felt his breath against her ear as he whispered, “But your skin isn’t the only thing that’s hot, is it?”

It was a good thing he scooped her into his arms because she didn’t think her legs would support her weight. She clung to him like a drowning woman, burying her face against his chest, inhaling deeply and breathing him in. He smelled of soap, water and man—clean, succulent and masculine.

The plush down comforter surrounded her hips, bottom and shoulders as the softness of the bed cradled her. She closed her eyes and sighed as she relaxed into the pillows. Fingers wrapped around her right arm and she opened her eyes to see Michael attaching a fur-lined cuff to her wrist.

Her eyes went wide and the hazy cloud that surrounded her began to ebb. A bit of fun on the bench with the flogger was one thing. She wasn’t tied down and unable to get free. After the cuff was clasped properly, Michael looked at her, and she realized the apprehension she felt must have been obvious.

Dipping his head, he calmed her with in a tender kiss. Her lips parted in welcome, her anxiety momentarily put on the back burner, and she groaned in pleasure as his tongue dipped inside. The man was a master with his mouth. A kiss had always been just a kiss. Not something that had her pulse pounding and her blood pumping.

He pulled away and brushed his mouth across tip of her nose. “Safe, sane, consensual. If you want to stop, say the word and we will. Nothing happens without your willingness and acceptance.

None of this works without trust.”

She looked at her cuffed wrist. The fit was snug but the fur ensured it was comfortable. Her attention drifted to the bedpost, to the length of silken rope, which had a clasp on the end the perfect size to latch on to the metal ring on the cuff. After a moment she extended her hand and reclined back as he snapped the clasp onto the ring and removed the slack from the rope. He retrieved another cuff and repeated the process until both arms were stretched over her head, just loose enough that she could bend her elbows comfortably.

He took his time studying her body. His hands surrounded her waist before traveling the length of her rib cage. “You are such a clever girl.” He grasped the front of her bra. “You’ve worn underwear that makes this absolutely perfect.”

One flick of his fingers and the cloth fell to her sides, revealing her breasts. They weren’t small but they weren’t large, barely C-cup. He brought the tip of his index finger to her nipple and skimmed around the surface, his touch so light it was torture. She bowed her back for more and he pulled away, his glacierlike eyes narrowing.

He clucked his tongue. “Impatient, are we?”

The bed shifted as he stood and walked to the shelf to the right. When he returned she saw something small and silver between his fingers. Before she could ask what the objects were the bed dipped, his head descended and he captured her taut and pebbled left nipple between his lips. He used his teeth and tongue, alternating quick nips with gentle taps. The suction and the differing sensations had her writhing on the bed, a gyrating mass of bliss.

Lifting his head, he quickly placed a tweezer clamp on the wet and sensitized skin and expertly adjusted the small screw on the outside. She experienced a mixture of pain and pleasure as the device tightened around her tender nipple, absolutely intense but equally arousing. She hissed at the sensation and strained against the cuffs until he found the pressure he wanted.

“Shh.” He licked her other nipple, skimming his tongue along the surface. “Relax. You’ll find the pleasure in them. You’ll see.”

Although the clamp wasn’t painful but intrusive, placing pressure on an area of her body that was prone to be extraordinarily responsive, she wasn’t certain she enjoyed the sensation. She steeled herself as his lips vanished and were replaced by another clamp. He adjusted the second as deftly as he had the first, ensuring the device was equally tight against her skin, but she didn’t have time to dwell on her nipple or the object clamped around it.