“How does it feel to have your lessons used against you, Temptress? How was it you put it? The kind of pain that makes you feel a little wild?”

He found my clit with his fingers and stroked too lightly, so I pressed back and demanded, “Harder.”

He slapped my pussy hard, making me squeal, “Motherfucker! That’s not what you do with that. What the hell have they been teaching you in Boy Scouts?”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a compliant submissive,” he mused. “Is it boring not to get bossed around and sworn at all the time?”

“Make me compliant and maybe you’ll find out,” I challenged.

He shifted his weight, sitting on the mat and pulling me over his lap, one hand reaching under me to bring pleasure and the other delivering exquisite pain. He was so much bigger than me, so much stronger that I was powerless to stop him without using a safe word. My breaths were coming in gasps, but my pussy was soaked. I was so close to coming, so painfully close when he flipped me back onto the mat and leaned down over me.

I arched up, eliciting that rumbling laugh I’d come to love. “I don’t see any tears yet, but I need to taste you when you come. I still want to be Alex, but just for fun, why don’t we pretend I have some of Steel’s powers?” He lifted my arms above my head on the mat and spread my legs wide, putting my feet flat on the mat and bending my knees up so I was spread wide open for him. “Now imagine I’m holding you in this position with my mind. You can’t move no matter what I do to you. Don’t let me down, Elena.”

Oh shit. How was I supposed to hold still when I knew what he was about to do to me?

Because I couldn’t move. He owned me. I let the fantasy take root in my mind.

He took one nipple in his mouth, rolling the other between his fingers, pinching and biting gently with his teeth. It hurt a little…but not enough. I wanted more.

Like he knew, he did it harder and the urge to buck my hips as I writhed in pleasure was intense. Not being able to move was torture, but so was the agony of waiting for him to touch me where I needed him.

The bastard was enjoying it. He slowed down, licking and kissing my sides, my hips, my inner thighs, the backs of my knees, and the sensitive place on my ankles. I panted helplessly, mouth open in a silent cry of desperate pleasure.

Then at last, his tongue slid over my clit. There was nothing dignified about the guttural moan that came out of my mouth, but I was too lost to the sensation to care, my very existence centered on the wet heat and pressure of his tongue moving against that bundle of nerves.