He moved that scarred finger up and skimmed it along her chin, before using it to turn her face back slightly so he could hold her gaze. “Always.”

She couldn’t help but believe that he considered her his, believed her worthy of his protection. Only she wasn’t. She was with him for a purpose, a purpose that would ensure she remain with him only a short while.

Twisting about in the tub, she took his mouth with all the fervor she could muster. He touched her in ways she’d not foreseen—not with his hands, although he certainly did that, but with his soul, his heart, his very being. She’d not anticipated that of a man known for sin. Had expected him to be of loose morals and character, caring for nothing save his own pleasures. But he was nothing of the sort. Goodness had taken up residence within him, and she wanted to ensure he regretted not a minute that he spent with her.

Leaning back, she cupped his dark whiskered jaw with one hand. The bristles were heavier, thicker now, and she considered offering to shave him, but she rather enjoyed the unkempt rugged look of him. “As a man, you have control over everything in your life. I’ve had very little control in mine, almost none at all.” Shifting, causing the water to lap around them, she straddled his hips. “I want to have complete and absolute control over you.”

His hands bracketed her waist, his fingers flexed, his eyes darkened. “I am yours to do with as you please. What would you have of me?”

“I would have you bound to the bed. I would have you at my mercy.”

It was a wonder he didn’t immediately embarrass himself and spill his seed at her softly spoken words, edged with a desire that turned her blue eyes cerulean. He could deny her nothing, especially a request that had his heart galloping like a runaway stallion and threatening to burst through his chest.

He still might embarrass himself. He’d never been so hard in anticipation of what was to come.

Using his neck cloths, she secured his wrists and ankles to the four bedposts, leaving him spread-eagled over the satin sheets he’d purchased earlier in the day for her enjoyment. He’d never been in such a vulnerable position, couldn’t imagine placing himself thus with anyone other than her. He trusted her. Completely. It was a rather odd moment to come to that realization, especially as they’d known each other such a short while, but he didn’t think the heart measured depth of feeling using a timepiece.

Not that he loved her, but he did care for her—immensely. Probably more so than was wise for a man in his position. He was not the sort a woman could walk proudly alongside. Until her, it had never mattered. He wished it still didn’t.