Tremors swept over the sensitive skin as he began to nibble kisses, like a golden slave’s collar, around her throat, then down to the breasts that no longer belonged to her. They were his. Every part of her body belonged to him! Her knees grew weak and sagged. She wanted this so much, but she needed desperately to hold on to her fantasy.

Master … Slave girl … His to do with as he wished. Mustn’t anger him … Let him—oh, yes—extend the trail of kisses over her ribs to her navel, her stomach, gliding over her hipbones as his thumbs caught the elastic on her panties.

Concentrate! Envision those cruel lips! Those cutting eyes! The dreadful penalty the slave girl would pay if she didn’t ease her legs open so he could slip his hand between them. Her merciless master … Her savage owner … Her—

“There’s a bunny on your panties.”

Even the most creative mind couldn’t have held a fantasy together against that dark, husky chuckle. She glared at him, then grew uncomfortably conscious that one of them still wore a pair of khaki slacks while the other wore only a sky blue pair of bunny panties.

“What if there is?”

He straightened and rubbed his fingers over the front of the panties, making her shiver as he gave the little bunny a pat. “Just wondering.”

“They were a present from Phoebe. A surprise.”

“They sure surprised me.” He nuzzled her neck while he continued patting her bunny. “Are these the only ones?”

She sucked in her breath. “There … might be a few more.”

He splayed his other hand across her bottom and massaged. “You got the badger dude on any of them?”

She did. Benny, with his cute little badger mask. “Could you stop … talking … and get back to … ahh … conquering.”

“Conquering?” He slipped one long finger beneath the elastic leg band.

“Never mind.” She sighed as he rubbed. Oh, that was wicked. She eased her legs open and let him go where he wanted.

And he wanted to go everywhere.

Before she knew it, her panties were gone, along with his clothes, and they were naked on her bed, too impatient to pull down the quilt.

Their play turned serious much too soon. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her on top of him—the servicing position. She wiggled up his body, caught his head in her hands, and kissed him again, hoping to slow him down.

“You’re so sweet …” he murmured in her mouth.

But he was impossible to distract. He caught the back of her knees and spread them over his hips. Here it came. She braced herself for his thrust and bit her lip to keep from yelling at him to take his time, for Pete’s sake, and stop acting as if the ref just blew the two-minute warning!