Captivated

in waves. Felt him restraining himself. Pacing himself, in spite of his savage need. In spite of his ferocious desire.

Felt her body responding to every sensual impulse to use his carnal need to make him crawl to her. No matter what she had to do.

She cupped her breasts as she walked toward him. 'Do you like them?' she whispered.

'I can't keep my eyes away from them.'

'Whichyour gift or my nipples?' she murmured.

'Your nipples.'

She felt the shift then, in the hoarseness of his voice and the intensity of his gaze, and she knew instinctively that if she made the first move, he would surrender.

Was she fearless enough? Did she want it enough?

She stopped at the apparatus. There was a bed-step just below it, positioned perfectly for her.

As bold an invitation as anything he had done yet.

And she had to want to do it as badly as he wanted her to.

Did she?

Power. Yesss…

She held his glittering gaze as she stepped up and mounted the harness, holding it tightly as she slipped first one leg and then the other into each of the padded nooses, and then shimmied her bottom against the thin leather strip to position herself comfortably; the harness forced her legs apart and her back to arch so that her most erotic self was displayed for him.

And he gave himself up to the pleasure of watching her as she squirmed and writhed, and then, her eyes hot with knowledge that had never been there before, waited for him.

And he deliberately made her wait. Every impulse in him roared to slam himself into her. He couldn't get enough of just looking at her, and lusting for her, and that new, aware look in her eyes that told him she was starting to understand what it meant to wield her sexual power.

But not yet. Not until he had penetrated her and stuffed himself as deep as he could go. Slowly, he stripped away his clothing so that he was finally revealed to her, naked, pulsing, and still in control.

He could tell by her eyes that while she had willingly spread her legs for him, she was not prepared for the size of him, and breadth of him, naked.

He was huge, his rock-hard manhood emerging from a thick thatch of wiry hair between his legs. He was long, lean, and strong, and from the look in his eyes, determined to have her tonight.

He kicked away the stair-step and poised himself just at her moist center. The sight of her naked and splayed for him, wearing his golden gift on her nipples, was almost too much. Too much for any man.

But not for him. Oh, no, very soon, his waywardwife would understand that all the power rested with him, in him, in his sinew and muscle and his ability to conquer her naked body without surrendering his own.

So, even though he was ready to burst, even though just touching her lush, wet flesh could incite his climax, he ruthlessly reined himself in, and just pushed against her, so the very tip of him was kissed by her feminine folds.

She gasped faintly as she felt him there and she looked down from his compelling gaze to see the long hard throbbing length of him just barely enfolded between her legs.

There was so much of him, and he just stood there with the barest nudge of his sex inserted in hers that she instantly felt the surging power of him that he held severely in check.

He wanted her to be utterly aware of him as he claimed her. He wanted her to feel him possess her inch by long, hard inch, and he wanted her to watch as he eased himself purposefully inside her.

He pushed again and breeched her further; she opened wider to take him, and enfold him. He paused there, for several long, breathless minutes, to let her feel the heat of him, the heaviness, the hardness. To let her see how a woman accommodated a man's sex.

And then he pushed again, another throbbing bone-hard inch, and she moaned because there was still so much of him yet to take, and her body felt hot and her nipples were hard, and he he… he was the focus of her world suddenly, and the center from which she could never escape.

She writhed against the inexorable thrust of him, enticing him to come further within her moist heat, examining the rising excitement of feeling his hard heat undulating between her legs, and the sight of them not quite fully joined.

He felt himself pearling up, at the sight, every instinct gathering for the final blasting thrust into her. He had to have her. She was so tight, so wet, so open, sothere… one strokehe reared backone tight, high thrust… he grasped her thighs, just once… he rammed himself into her

She cried out as he took her with that piercing final lunge and then he was in, in, in, deep, deep, deeper still, in to the hilt, and finally home.

They were hip to hip now, and she held herself tight against the ebbing pain. She had known it was necessary, but thisoh, thisotherness at one with herand this unfamiliar feeling of something invading her most secret selfshe felt a frenzied urgency to escape.

Who could have known it was so all-encompassing, that she would feel so lost, vanquished, ill-prepared?

'I have to get away, I have to get away…' Her voice was a frantic whisper against his hands, which held her immobile.

'You'll never get away, my fawn. I own you now. What is between your legs ismine never forget it. I'm the one who will make you insensate with desire for what only I can do to you…'

'Nono… go away…'

'You'll beg for it…' He rocked against her.

'Never,' she spat.

'You'll crave it.'

'Ever…'

'You'll be on your knees, my fawn'

'Thendo it,' she hissed.

'Thank you so much for giving me permission. But you never had a say in whether I would do it or not…' He ground his hips against her. 'Feel that,wife.' He pulled back and swooped inside her with a long, hard stroke. 'And that' Pushing deeper into her. 'And that…' Moving then almost involuntarily into a staccato rhythm because he couldn't take any more 'And… tha-a-t' Because his body demanded that he spend himself now that she was positioned to service him. 'Andthat… '

She couldn't say a word. She felt as if everything in her were focused onhis movement, his demands, his need.

He moved like a piston in her; her body stretched to welcome him, to receive him, to feel every hard, surging stroke, to wring from him the sensations that she was feeling, in spite of everything she had said, in spite of herself.

This wasn't supposed to happenthese feelings, this urgency. It was as if it were ordained; his long strong body matched to hers; his hard hot penis rubbing and stroking her in that perfect place where her body craved it, and where nothing mattered but the shattering drive to pleasure.

She felt his fingers dig into her buttocks, pulling her closer, pushing him deeper. She felt his muscles quivering at the effort to contain himself, because if he surrendered control, he surrendered everything.

But even he couldn't outlast his rigidly contained lust. It was too much then even for him; he pounded himself blindly into her, using her as a vessel until his straining body could take it no longer, and then, in one telling thrust, he rammed himself tightly against her, and spent himself convulsively in a long spuming aching release.

'We've barely begun, my fawn,' he whispered against her ear and into the silence; he was still hot and hard inside her, his cream thick and seeping around them. And he still wanted her. Was still hot and raring to pin her to whatever surface was handy. 'Just barely.' He braced his arms around her bottom and lifted her from the harness, somehow still keeping himself joined to her.

'Did you feel me there,wife? I swear to God you will never get away from me…' He got her on the bed somehow; he laid her down and followed her down, deep down into her where he had shot his seed. 'Never…'