With the rope in her mouth, she couldn’t answer.

XAVIER SMILED. SUCH big gray eyes. She watched him like a mouse facing a hungry owl. Lovely. He pulled out a small flogger. The three short strands were made of very soft leather. It could feel like a massage…or a harder flick of the wrist could impart a sting. Perfect for tender areas.

He dangled the flogger over her, giving her the scent of leather, trailing the ends down her neck, her shoulder, between her breasts and back up. When he moved lower, the muscles of her stomach quivered.

She shivered as he teased over the creases between her cunt and thighs. With her pussy stuffed full and her legs splayed, her clit was beautifully exposed—a fat, glistening pink pearl. They hadn’t done much pain play, and he looked forward to her reactions when the flogger hit her most sensitive bits.

As she fully realized her vulnerability, her breasts heaved and wobbled with her fast breathing. Half fear—and, judging from the slickness around the dildos, half anticipation.

He flicked the miniflogger over her legs very, very gently. Then faster. He set up a rhythm of whispering caresses, up one leg, down the other and back up, over her stomach to the undersides of her breasts, avoiding the clamps and rope. He played her sweetly until her breathing deepened. Her hips started making urgent gyrations as the sensations added to those of the vibrator, pushing past her barriers.

The flogger roved over her hips and thighs. This time he added a bite of pain as he followed the same map, up over her stomach to her breasts. Her skin took on a flush, reddening under the increased flogging.

Her eyes drooped to half-lidded as she started losing track of her surroundings under the storm of sensation.

Flogging in an even pattern, he moved back down her stomach. He struck her inner thighs lightly, the outer legs harder, harder, and heard her pulling in air through her nose. Down and back up.

Her clit appeared almost inflamed with need. Laying the flogger to one side, he set his knee on the bed between her spread legs and ran his tongue all around the tiny nub.

The sound she made sent a rush through him as every dominant instinct in him surged up, needing more. His cock hardened unbearably. He continued the slow circles until she was as close to panting as a person with a rope in her mouth could get. Her hips lifted the inch he’d permitted, over and over.

Was there anything more satisfying in the world than this? Smiling, he took her whole clit into his mouth, rubbing one side, the other, sucking and licking without pause—and sent her over.

Her hips bucked against the restraints as she screamed and climaxed. Another, higher scream sounded when the weight dropped two inches to yank her nipples upward.

Oh yes. He’d never tire of hearing the noises she made when she came. Chuckling, he reached up and took the weight off her nipples. “Foolish English female. Don’t damage my property.” He tucked the rope back in her mouth.

Her teeth bit down, although her eyes were almost glazed.

Rising, he picked up the tiny flogger and started on the same pattern, knowing her body was anxiously preparing for the sensations. That sense of anticipation in a submissive was exactly what every Dom hoped for.

Up her left leg, down, and up again, over to her right, down and up her stomach. Harder this time, so the undersides of her breasts had tiny red marks. Tears gleamed in her eyes even as her cheeks and lips pinkened with arousal.

Up and down, slowly he worked his way toward her clit. It had been soft after her climax but was now slick and straining out of its hood. Moving up her inner thighs, he lightened the strikes, stopping short of her groin.

Building and building her anticipation.

PAINFULLY NIBBLED TO death. Abby wanted to glare at him but didn’t dare. This time the flogger that had felt so wonderful was dealing out tiny, stinging bites everywhere it struck. He moved over her body quickly, keeping the blows light enough that the pain was right on the edge—and everything he did increased her need.

He flogged up her inner legs, stopping before he reached her crotch and moving back down her outer thighs. Her clit hurt as if each flogging journey pushed more blood into it. No longer a nub—it felt as if it had swollen to the size of a mushroom.

The pattern changed, and the flogger struck the inside calf of her left leg, the inside of her right. Left, right. Each blow sank into her clit in throbbing bursts as he moved upward in an inevitable path. Her hips rose, straining uncontrollably toward the torture.

Please, please, please.

He reached her lower thighs.

Upper thighs.

Oh no, oh no. She tensed.

Without pausing, the three strands flicked onto her clit. Right on top, over and over and over, in exquisite pain. Pleasure.

An orgasm blasted through her, a massive upheaval of pleasure, churning with noise and boiling into her veins. Her back arched, her neck arched, and she screamed.

The rope slipped. The weight dropped.

“Aaaaah.” Her nipples flared with pain, and her insides clenched, sending another blast of brutal pleasure exploding outward.

Over the roaring in her ears, she heard a pleased laugh. He tugged the double dildo out, leaving her clenching on emptiness.

Xavier pressed his cock to her pussy and thrust. One hard, shocking thrust. She groaned as he stretched her almost past bearing, painful and yet the most intense of pleasures.

He tightened his hands on her hips, and then he stopped.

She met his laughing gaze as he unclipped the weight and tossed it on the floor. The chain between the clamps dropped like a cool blessing on her breasts. He stretched forward. His chest rubbed over the clamps, over her so-tender nipples, and made her hiss.

She glared at him. “You’re despicable.”

The white of his grin appeared in his dark face, before his expression changed. “Are you speaking to me, foolish English woman?” The threat was thick in every word, and she tensed.

With his cock deep inside her and his weight holding her to the bed, he curved one hand over her throat, pressing until she had a moment of panic.

“Don’t speak.” Braced on one arm, he leaned down and took her mouth, controlling the kiss. Controlling her. His hand around her neck enforced her helplessness. Her mind spun, her body melting beneath his.

Lifting his head, he started to thrust, hard and fast. With his hand on her throat adding a terrifying restraint, he trapped her gaze with his as he hammered into her. His hair fell onto her shoulders, curtaining her in silky black.

He felt good—so wonderfully good. His weight, his control, his cock. Her eyes pooled with tears as she stared up at him, letting him see what he wanted, take what he wanted.

Giving a low sound, he kissed her, gently this time, drawing it out until she felt as loved as she did controlled.

He nipped her chin and started over again. Faster and slower, and now, every few thrusts, he twisted and ground his pelvis over her clit, bringing her back into need as if she’d never climaxed at all.

“I like you restrained, little fluff,” he said, rocking against her clit. “You’re wide open. Can’t move.” The sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. “You have to take whatever I want to give you.” He sped up again, and her core throbbed in time with his thrusts.

Her body gathered, nerve endings screaming for release.

“All you can do is offer yourself for my pleasure.” Another circle and she felt the inevitable tightening of her body around his cock.

He whispered, “And to come when I want you to.”

The pressure grew unbearable, teetered for a moment. Then a tidal wave of sensation crashed over the rocks, taking her senses with it, filling her with pleasure. She bucked under him as he came inside her. He pressed deep into her, his pelvis on her clit, and she spasmed around him again and again.

Eventually she managed to open her eyes. Her heart still thudded against her ribs, trying to batter free. Sweat trickled between her breasts, down the creases of her legs. He’d released her throat and was teasing her hair with his fingers. Waiting for her to recover.

She licked salt from her lips, feeling how swollen they were from his cock, his kisses. As the room blurred back into focus, she stared around at her harem room—the seraglio.

He must have taken one look at the style and known what kind of fantasies she had. Then he’d not only given her what she wanted but had pushed until she had no control, and it was more, more than she’d ever dreamed. “Your English woman thanks you,” she whispered. “I think.”

“You’re very welcome.” He nipped her chin. “Next time, English, you will learn to show your gratitude properly.”

“I love you.” So, so much.

He nuzzled the curve of her neck and kissed up her jaw. “That’s a good start.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

As laughter and conversation burbled behind her, Abby stood near the pool and looked out at the night. Across the dark water of the bay, San Francisco sparkled like a fairyland.

“Xavier’s home is perfect for parties, isn’t it?” Her mother stopped beside her. “You look happy, sweetie.”

“I am.” Abby turned, smiling at how their guests spilled out of the house and onto the long, wide patio. “You know, I never thought life would take a turn like this. Last spring it seemed as if my path was all laid out, nice and straight.”