His palms slid upward, and he delved his thumbs between the slick folds of her sex, separating her nether lips and forcing her swollen, glistening clit up and out, all his for the taking. She waited, her breath suspended in her lungs as he leaned forward and buried his tongue deep. He licked and circled her labia, pressing hard, retreating slowly, teasing her to the brink of her climax, only to let her orgasm ebb.

Her hands clenched in tight fists in her attempt to resist the frantic impulse to grab the back of his head and increase the pressure of his mouth, the friction of his tongue. "Steve," she said, and heard the desperation in her voice.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark and glittering with lust. "I want you to beg me for what you want."

She shook her head defiantly, and he proceeded to torment her further, laving her, suckling her, but keeping her release just out of reach. The pleasure grew with every hot pass of his tongue, heat and tension building higher and stronger. Her head rolled against the wall, and her body arched against his ravenous mouth of its own accord, striving for the peak that was so, so close…

He withdrew, and she whimpered at the loss of contact. "Beg, wench," he ordered roughly, and licked her again. And again, his tongue dancing wickedly over her flesh, so skilled, warm, and sleek.

Her frustration was so overwhelming, she sobbed and finally gave her pirate what he demanded from her.

"Please," she panted, barely able to speak, but knew the one word would not gain her what she yearned for. "Please… let… me… come."

A long, thick finger thrust inside her at the same time he closed his mouth over her clitoris and used the suctioning swirl of his tongue to draw her into a toe-curling, mind-bending orgasm. A hoarse, ragged cry ripped from her throat as her climax crested and her entire body spasmed with the force of her release.

As soon as those internal ripples subsided, Steve yanked at the pants and underwear around her knees. Still crouched in front of her, he anxiously shoved them down her legs and helped her step out of them, stripping her completely bare. Refusing to let him retain the upper hand as her captor, even after he'd so generously pleasured her, Liz pushed at his broad shoulders before he could stand back up and take her against the wall. The unexpected move caused him to lose his balance and fall back on his ass.

She sprinted to the side and out of his reach, and he cursed around a bout of deep, masculine chuckles that belied the dark, intimidating persona he'd assumed for the sake of their fantasy. Taking advantage of the handful of seconds she'd bought herself, she ran down the hallway… and straight into the master bedroom. Realizing her mistake, she whirled around to head down the stairs and came to an abrupt halt when she found Steve silhouetted in the doorway, blocking her only means of escape.

Her pulse fluttered at the sight of what a formidable opponent he made, so utterly sexual, so impressively virile, with his muscular arms and washboard stomach that spoke of his superior strength. The long, hard length of his erection was a blatant outline inside his black jeans, and somewhere along the way he'd taken off his shoes and socks.

"You're gonna pay for that little stunt, you ungrateful wench," he murmured, and though she knew this was all fun and games, that he would never do anything she objected to, she couldn't help but shiver at the sexy threat in his tone.

He played his part exceptionally well.

Pushing the bedroom door shut, he locked it with a resounding click, then flipped a switch on the wall that turned on a bedside light. She swallowed hard as his gaze raked down the length of her naked body.

"Now I have you right where I want you." He crooked a finger at her. "Come here," he ordered.

She jutted her chin out mutinously. "No."

Seemingly taking her refusal as a direct challenge, a seductive smile curved the corners of his mouth, and he strolled deeper into the room. For every confident step he took toward her, she took one back, the excitement and awareness between them building as they played a provocative game of cat-and-mouse. He continued to stalk her until he'd managed to maneuver her into the far corner of the bedroom, though there was still plenty of space separating them.

"Come here," he said again, this time more firmly. "Surrender, and I'll be gentle with you. Disobey, and suffer the consequences."

She didn't want gentle. She was excruciatingly aroused again, eager for a hot, aggressive kind of joining. And she wanted to see what kind of punishment he had in mind. She attempted to skirt around him, but he lunged toward her. His fingers caught in her hair and brought her up short with a yelp.

Startled, he hesitated for a moment, his eyes gentling as he searched her expression to make sure he hadn't gone too far with her. When she didn't issue a protest to his rough handling, he continued with the fantasy.

"Since it seems you need to learn your place, get on your knees," he said in a voice so low it was almost a growl.

The downward tugging on her scalp gave her no choice but to comply, and she knelt in front of him, her face level with that huge bulge in his pants. With his free hand, he managed to unbuckle his belt, open the fly of his jeans, and reach inside to release his stiff shaft and balls.

He stroked the length of his cock with his fingers, and she watched, fascinated, as he thickened even more. Bringing her head closer, he rubbed the broad, swollen head of his penis against her closed lips. His flesh was as hard as granite, textured like heated velvet, and seemed to quiver with need.

"Open up, wench, and take me in your mouth."

The hand fisted in her hair tightened to keep her from pulling away, but she wasn't going anywhere. She submitted to his domination because she wanted to pleasure him, too.

Looking up the length of his body and holding his hot gaze, she parted her lips and took him as deep as she could, surrounding him in wet heat and the silken caress of her tongue along the underside of his shaft. She relaxed her throat, practically swallowing him as his hand cupped the back of her head, holding her, guiding her, while his hips rocked rhythmically and his cock slid in and out of her mouth.

"Yessss," he hissed, and a muscle in his jaw clenched in restraint.

She knew he was close to coming; she could taste the change in him, hot and salty, could feel the steady throb of the vein running along the underside of his cock, and his testicles were drawn up close to his body. A shudder rocked him, and she swirled her tongue over the engorged, sensitive tip, then closed her lips tightly over the crown and sucked, hard, pushing him higher, increasing his pleasure with each stroke of her mouth on his sex. He groaned, closed his eyes, and made the mistake of loosening his hold on her hair.

She'd gained control, a heady sensation she couldn't help but exploit as his prisoner. Emboldened, she took him deep one last time, felt his body jerk, and knew he was on the verge of exploding. She drew back, released him from her mouth, and scrambled away and to her feet before he knew she was gone.

His brilliant blue eyes narrowed, fierce and hungry, contradicting the way the corner of his mouth twitched with a grin at her cunning. "Expect no mercy when I catch you."

Dismissing her for a moment, he walked to the nighstand beside the bed, withdrew a foil packet from a box, and sheathed his erection with a condom. He didn't bother taking off his jeans; the front placket remained wide open, framing his jutting sex, giving him the decadent appearance of a hedonistic bad boy intent on debauchery. And she was the object of his lust.

Lucky, lucky her. Heat and passion swept through her limbs, and her heartbeat accelerated with anticipation.

He turned toward her, once again stalking her. There was nowhere to hide, no way to avoid him, and they both knew it. But it was obvious that he reveled in the hunt, chase, and final capture. Before long, he trapped her between him and the bed, giving her no choice but to try to breach that barrier without getting caught. She made a run for it and scrambled across the mattress but only made it halfway across before a large hand clamped around her ankle and ruthlessly tugged her back.

She gave a shriek of startled surprise and thrashed, her legs flailing. She accidently kicked him in the hip, and he grunted, then muttered a curse, but continued to drag her back to where he stood at the other end of the bed. Her feet touched the floor, but the hand he flattened on her back kept her bent at the waist, with her breasts mashed against the soft comforter. She squirmed to free herself, and he pinned her to the edge of the mattress with his hips. She felt the hot, heavy pressure of his erection along the crease of her bottom, and an illicit thrill shot through her.

She heard the hiss of leather sliding through his belt loops and experienced a jolt of shock when he reached down and quickly secured the strap just above her knees, binding her legs together so that she couldn't move, couldn't run or escape again.

He leaned over her from behind, aligning their bodies intimately, the heavy weight of him pressing her deeper into the mattress. "Would you like your hands restrained behind your back, as well?" he whispered roughly in her ear.

She shook her head, though the image of herself helplessly bound for his pleasure did excite her. "No," she said breathlessly, and instead curled her fingers into the covers, suspecting she was going to need that anchor. "I'll be good. I promise."

His legs widened on either side of her thighs, the coarse denim of his jeans scratching her skin in an arousing way. He smoothed a palm down her spine, glided his hand over her buttocks, and dipped his fingers into the firm crevice between. He delved lower, found her positively drenched with desire for him, and stroked her wet folds, spreading her moisture, preparing her for his entry.