“That’s it,” he murmured. “The decisions are mine. Your body is mine. Let go, Abby.” As he lowered his head, she realized his fingers were still inside her. Pressing deep.

Her clit had started to soften, but with the first touch of his breath, it swelled to bursting.

“Very pretty.” He circled his finger around the nub, the rough skin a shock after his soft tongue. “You’re pink and shiny, not hiding from me any longer. The hood”—he teased something on the top, and she gasped at the intense feeling—“is pulled back, giving me full access.” His merciless gaze met hers. “I expect full access to everything.”

The shaking in her core moved outward until her whole body trembled. She needed…needed. She felt like crying. Felt like crawling into his arms.

He pushed her outer labia apart so his teeth could close on one inner fold. His tongue lashed the flesh, bathing her in heat as he bit down to just over the edge of pain. He released her, and his tongue whipped over her clit. And then he started to thrust his fingers in and out.

Her senses couldn’t keep up.

He lightly bit the other fold while the first still ached. He licked her clit, teasing it upward, upward…

He stopped.

Oh God, she didn’t climax that easily. Don’t do this to me.

His eyes met hers again. She burned, throbbed; she needed him there. Right there.

But his head stayed up. He watched her as his fingers slowly pumped in and out, pushing her, making her ache more, but never enough.

Her lips closed on the word please, and only a moan escaped. Would he be angry if she didn’t come? Would he—

His teeth scraped on each side of her clit. Tightened.

She froze. The stimulation was so intense, so painful, so much. The nerves were pulsing in his grip. He held her there, trapped, and helplessness drowned out everything, winding her higher and higher.

He thrust harder, adding to the tormenting pleasure, and the jolt broke her words loose.

“Pleeeze. Oh please.”

When her hips tried to rise, his teeth tightened in warning. Her muscles went rigid, turning her into an unmoving concrete statue. Each relentless thrust pushed her closer, and she hung there on an excruciating edge.

He released her. Blood surged back into her clit in a flood of pleasure and pain, and then he sucked on the nub, pulling forcefully, tonguing the very top.

Her concrete body shattered. “Ahhhh!” Sensation ripped through her, filling her world with wrenching pleasure.

Hard hands held her down as he sucked again, and her body arched again, completely out of her control. The room turned white. Her pulse roared in her ears as each convulsion shook her, yet she wanted more.

His laugh vibrated her oversensitive nerves, and she spasmed again.

She was still panting and shuddering with aftershocks when he pried her fingers from the headboard and flipped her over. With a yank he pulled her up onto her shaky arms and knees. “Don’t move.”

Her head hung as she struggled for air.

She heard him unbuckle his belt, unzip his slacks, and tear open a condom wrapper. The cool strands of his hair washed over her back as he pressed against her entrance, as he started to push into her. And oh, she wanted him inside, filling her…

Hard and thick and hot, he slid partway in. She was so, so wet, but he was bigger than she was used to. Her body stiffened, protesting the intrusion, and she leaned forward. Away.

His hands tightened on her as he gave a laughing snort. “Sorry, little fluff. I’ll go slower.” He rocked his hips, edging into her slowly, stretching her to his size. Inch by inch, until his thighs were hot on the backs of her legs and his balls bumped her pussy.

As she throbbed around him, she bit her lip, unsure if she was comfortable or not. Mostly not. He was impossibly large.

And his ruthless control unsettled her. Heated her. She glanced over her shoulder. The faint dawn light showed his face was hard, almost…cold.

He met her gaze, then firmly pushed her forehead down on her arms. “Don’t move.” His powerful hands gripped her hips as he slid out and eased in, experimentally. Another slow stroke and pleasure blossomed inside her again.

“All right, then.” He pulled out…and then slammed into her. At the burst of sensation, her back arched; her head jerked up.

He set his hand on her nape, pushing her down onto her forearms again.

He paused a second as if to be sure she’d stay. His fingers curled around her hips and tightened into an unbreakable grip as he pulled her bottom higher. And then he truly started. Hard stroke after hard stroke, movements changing—pace never relenting.

The primal rhythm wakened nerves, and a spot inside her grew more and more sensitive. With a shiver she clenched around him, needing more.

“You are a never-ending surprise,” he said lightly, and he changed the angle of his cock, driving into that responsive area with short, demanding stokes.

Her insides drew together, like a sun gathering into itself, and…and…the area went nova. Blinding light and heat shot outward, searing and sizzling all the way to her hands and feet, wave after wave with each undulating spasm of her core.

With a rumble of enjoyment, he plunged deep. Over and over he yanked her onto his cock, before he pressed fully in and came in urgent pulses. Even after he finished, he held her immobile, and she could hear his deep, even breathing, as disciplined as everything about him.

She lifted her head.

He pushed her down again. “Stay put for a minute, Abigail.” His voice was husky, lower than normal, a little rough, and he’d said her name…oddly. Slower. As if uncertain he liked the taste of it. Then he sighed and withdrew.

She waited, unsure if she should move. Unsure if she could. Her insides rippled as if still being pounded.

He rose to stand beside the bed. His fingers closed over her nape, his grip unyielding, and a hard slap on her bottom made her yelp at the unexpected pain. “This is for your inability to stay where you were told. Next time you won’t forget.”

A stinging slap landed on her right buttock, then two more. Her skin stung. Burned.

“What do you say?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Ow, ow, ow.

“Very good.” The distance was gone from his voice, and a knot in her chest released. His hands caressed her bottom, spreading the pain, easing it. “You have a gorgeous ass, and it holds handprints beautifully.”

Oh, well, how nice for me. Only she couldn’t summon any anger, not under the gentle touch of his hands. “Thank you, sir.”

He lifted her off the bed in a head-spinning move and set her on her feet. “Go shower. The pups are waking up.”

She took a step away, feeling…lost. After being so close to him when she’d come, he’d shoved her facedown as if he didn’t want to look at her, and now he was pushing her away. She rubbed her arms. How could she stand next to someone she’d just made love with and feel lonely?

He said something in French under his breath and pulled her into his arms, surrounding her with warmth and strength and comfort. His long black hair fell forward, curtaining her from the world as he pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Thank you, Abby. I enjoyed being with you. Perhaps more than I expected to.”

The unhappiness eased slightly.

But he didn’t stay.

Chapter Ten

With an exasperated grunt, Xavier laid the pen down on his office desk and walked over to his wall of windows. Fog had rolled in off the ocean, and the normally spectacular view of San Francisco Bay from the Financial District was gray and grim.

He couldn’t see Dark Haven in the South of Market from here. Instead he looked toward the north, where Abby fostered puppies that needed her help. And she’d given it, just as she’d given him anything he asked for.

Shame weighed him down as he thought of how he’d left her so abruptly. Spending the night had been foolish, although he hadn’t had much choice. No Dom abandoned a submissive unable to care for herself.

But to have taken her in her own bed? Idiot. He always insisted a woman come to his house, so when he was gone her home would contain no painful memories to expunge.

Catherine had left her ghost behind in their home. Every room reminded him of the places they’d made love, her laughter at the dining table, her on her knees in the foyer waiting for him to return.

Over the years the phantom images had faded. Now she haunted him only occasionally…during sex. A woman’s features would blur into Catherine’s freckled face, her vibrant red hair, and her blue-green eyes. The occurrences left him guilt-ridden, as if he’d deceived both his wife and the woman in his bed.

Saturday night with Abby had been…different. She had a comfortable personality, giving and intelligent, sweet with a wry sense of humor. Her subconscious response to him was compelling, and in the club, she’d given him one of the prettiest orgasms he’d ever seen. He enjoyed the musky spice of her scent, her husky moans, and her surprise when her body overrode her mind.

He rubbed his chin, remembering her sweetness with the puppies and how she’d put their needs before her own. He not only liked her, but his urgency to bury himself inside her quivering, soft body had been unsettling. Only his wife had tested his control like that—and in taking Abby, needing her, glorying in her, he’d felt as if he betrayed Catherine.

That was foolish, of course. Catherine was dead. Like a blazing meteor, she’d lived her life to the fullest and departed as quickly. She would yell at him for the way he’d dealt with her death.