His cock was making his jeans bulge. While she’d been undressing, he’d done the same. He was down to his jeans, his perfectly cut chest making her mouth water. She wondered what he looked like in his leathers. More than likely, a lot like he did now. He was an intimidating, lean presence. Jen took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and walked to the couch with what she hoped passed for grace. She placed her hands on the arm and leaned over, presenting her ass to her Master.

“Nicely done, love,” Stef purred.

Jen shivered just a bit as his hands traced her back.

“You’ve studied up. I can see that. I wonder how much you’re prepared for. I wonder how much you can take.”

“I can take just about anything except the part where you get me riled up and walk away.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I can see where that would be difficult for you. How about I promise you that I won’t ever leave you unsatisfied? But your satisfaction, when we’re playing, comes at my discretion. If I choose to torture my slave for hours on end, that is my decision.”

“I don’t know how much I like the sound of that, Stef.” He smacked her ass, causing every nerve in her rectum to come alive with a jittery pleasure. “Yes or no? We can go back to the house and have very nice, vanilla sex. I’m all right with that, love. I really am. We can have vanilla sex and go to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Or I can tie you up, spank your sweet ass, and torture you with vibrators and other nasty toys. I can lick every inch of your body. I can devour your pussy while I shove my finger up your anus. And I can fuck that ass, love. I’m going to ream it until you don’t remember a time I wasn’t balls-deep inside you. Really, it’s your choice.” He punctuated his speech by running his tongue down her spine to the place he’d promised to fuck. It was delicious and dark and dirty, and Jen felt her pussy clench in response.

“Oh, Stef, I want to play.” Her hands tightened on the couch because if she didn’t hold on, she would fall. He was turning her into a quivering mass of desire. “Please play with me.” She felt him get to his knees behind her. He playfully nipped at her butt cheeks. “I’ll play, love. Have I mentioned how pretty your asshole is?”

She laughed a little. It wasn’t a compliment she heard often, but Stef said it like he was talking about her hair or telling her how nice she looked in a new blouse. He left absolutely no room for shame.

“Thank you.”

“I like to look at it.” He pulled her cheeks apart.

“You’re not painting my asshole, Stef.” She had her limits.

“I don’t see why not. I wouldn’t sell it, of course. But it is a work of art. I could do a whole series of paintings featuring your pink parts.

I love your anus and your pussy.” His hand slid up to where she was already wet and wanting. “I definitely love your clit. I like to rub it and suck on it until it pokes out of its little hood and begs for my attention.”

Jen gasped. Her clit was probably doing that right this second because he was rubbing her in the sweetest way. He pressed on her clit and lessened the pressure, running a circle around the nub before pressing again. It lit a fire that spread from the apex of her thighs, crawling along her skin.

He pulled his hand away.

“Hey, I was enjoying that.”

“And I’ll enjoy this, brat.” He pressed her down, forcing her midsection over the arm of the sofa. His hand slapped at her ass in ten quick, harsh licks, each one a shocking heat on her flesh. “Don’t talk to me that way when we’re playing.”

“Yes, Stefan.” She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, but even as she did he was smoothing his hand across her skin, the pain morphing into pleasure.

He slid his hand between her cheeks and pulled on the plug. It slid from her anus, leaving her strangely empty. He almost immediately pressed a finger in.

“Tight. You’re still going to be tight, love, but you can take me.” He groaned as he pressed deep, rotating his finger. He moved in between her legs, taking up all the space. “No one’s had your ass, have they?”

“No, Stefan.” She never even dreamed she’d want anyone to take her there, but she couldn’t imagine not sharing the intimacy with Stef.

He’d invaded every inch of her soul. She wanted him to have all of her body, too.

“Excellent.” He pulled his finger out and backed away. “Go into the bedroom, love. I’ll be along in a moment. There are some toys I need.”

He steadied her when she got back on her feet. Every nerve and pore in her body seemed open and aware of his presence. His lips curled in a decadent grin as he looked down at her.

“Toys? Dare I ask?” She probably didn’t want to know. He was a veritable pervertopedia when it came to toys. He knew how to use them all to great advantage.

“No office supplies this time, love. We’re in my dungeon. I have every luxury imaginable.” He suddenly frowned. “Unless my father threw it out.”

She stifled a laugh. “I doubt it.” She went on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be waiting.” On wobbly feet, she made her way to the bedroom. Callie had pointed it out when she’d given her a secret tour of the guesthouse.

She’d gone into salacious detail of what went on, though at the time she hadn’t played here herself. Jen had the feeling Nate and Zane had probably fixed that situation. She knew that Max and Rye had an open invitation. She entered the bedroom and wondered if there was a sign-up sheet. It might be awkward if the room was already occupied.

Then she wasn’t thinking about awkwardness. Her heart raced as she looked at the newest addition to the dungeon. Stef had installed a floor-to-ceiling mirror. She stared for a moment at the reflection of herself. She was naked, but she almost didn’t recognize the woman there. She looked tousled and soft. She’d always thought of herself as gangly and too thin. She didn’t have Callie’s curves or Rachel’s petite grace, but there was an innate sexiness to the woman in the mirror that couldn’t be denied.

“Yes, love, you’re beautiful.”

Stef stood in the doorway behind her, his dark hair ruffled. He leaned on the frame and caught her gaze in the mirror.

“I never thought of myself as beautiful. I certainly never thought of myself as sexy.” She doubted she would without him. Stef brought out a version of herself she really liked. When Stef looked at her like he was looking now, she felt powerful and sexy even as she submitted to him.

“I can’t think of you as anything less.” He tossed several items onto the bed and took a place behind her, cupping her shoulders.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about painting you, your graceful arms and long limbs.” He let his hands move lower to cup the breasts that had always seemed too small to her, but felt like the perfect size when his hands were on them. “Your sweet breasts.

You’re my ideal model. I couldn’t find a woman I want more than you.”

She let her head lean back against his chest, enjoying the picture they made. When she looked into that mirror at the couple cuddling together, it was hard to believe they ever fought at all. They looked right together, as though two pieces that had been separated had finally found their way back together.

“Kiss me, love.”

She tilted her head up and reveled in his kiss.

* * *

Stef pressed his lips to Jennifer’s mouth and felt himself sigh. All of the previous tension of the day melted away as he let his body mold to hers. This was what he’d needed since that moment when he realized how close he’d come to losing her.

He’d walked into the room to find her staring at herself in the mirror as though seeing herself for the very first time. He wanted her to see herself as he did—a true, amazing work of art. She was gorgeous from the top of her silky, sable hair to her dainty toes. She would probably be shocked to discover he was fascinated with her toes. She painted them pinks and purples, and one day last summer, a bright, shocking orange. He loved summer because she would glide around town in sandals, her toenails a patch of art in his day.

He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. She always tasted sweet to him. He sometimes thought he could run his tongue over her skin a thousand times a day and never get sick of the taste.

How was he going to let her go?

A breathy little cry slipped from her mouth as he moved from her lips to her neck. He let his eyes drift up so he could watch them in the mirror. She was femininity and grace to his masculine aggression.

That little mewling cry went straight to his cock. Every muscle in his body seemed hard and ready to pounce, but his cock was past rigid.

His cock was a throbbing, insistent rock.

He nuzzled her neck. His fingers found her rigid nipples. He pinched at them, remembering how well she’d taken his spontaneously made clamps. He had better ones now. Unwilling to wait any longer, he moved back. “Get on your knees on the bed, love.

Face the mirror. I want you to watch everything I do to you.”

She shivered a bit, but Stef didn’t think it was from the cold. He could see her pussy, and it was getting creamy and soft. She was so responsive, like an instrument only he was meant to play. She climbed on the bed and turned so she could see herself in the mirror. Stef reached out to the nightstand table and grabbed the first of the toys he’d brought for her, a set of lovely clover clamps. Silver and ornate, they were held together by a chain that would dangle between her breasts.

“No more paper clips?” She anticipated his next command. She pushed her shoulders back, thrusting her breasts out. The pink and brown nipple pointed directly at him.