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  Before their lips touched, Zoe caught a glimpse of his face. The glory of him flipped her heart all over again. The passion on his stunning features was defined by the gold hues of the hotel’s floodlights, sifting in through the curtains. Her imagination instantly re-outfitted him from the business attire into a gladiator’s galerus.

  It was her last cognizant thought for a while.

  Forget nirvana. The man took her straight to heaven, though she was certain she blushed to her toes as he forced her jeans and panties down her legs. He simply hoisted her a few inches off her feet in order to kick off her boots himself. Her jeans followed within seconds, leaving her completely naked before him. Thank God for her Spanish and Greek heritage. Olive tints were awesome for hiding the pink of uncertainty.

  After he set her back down, Shane relocked his stare with hers. The light from outside hit his irises directly now, turning the caramel silk into an amber glow. With his chest pumping on hard breaths, he pressed her hands to the buttons on his shirt, silently ordering her to set them free.

  Inch by tantalizing inch, she released the fabric, exposing the naked breadth of his torso. “Dios mio,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Maybe you are an alien.”

  “What?”

  She shoved the shirt farther back and then all the way off his torso. His pecs were like plates of steel, his abs ridges of defined perfection. A tattoo of swirling smoke covered his left shoulder and bicep, with a bold capital I wrapped in the middle. “You. You’re…” She bit her lip. “I’m a dancer. I’ve been around some beautiful men in my life. But this…” She stepped back, letting him laugh at her quivering cry. “You’re otherworldly.” The itch from the back of her mind pushed forward again, begging to be let out. “Either that or you secretly moonlight as a model.”

  “Do I look like I model?” His gaze narrowed. “Answer that very carefully.”

  She laughed. He didn’t. “Fine. You’re leaving me only one other option for a conclusion.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Conditioning this excellent usually comes courtesy of the United States military, Mr. Burnett. Or is it Sergeant? Or Captain?”

  She almost held her breath waiting for his answer. If he confirmed her contention, what would she do? She’d declared a freeze-out on military men once, not a surprise to anyone considering the ordeals her sister had endured by falling for a string of jerks in uniform. That was before Ava found herself a soldier who obliterated those stains and then put a giant ring on it for good measure. After witnessing Ava’s happiness with Sergeant Ethan Archer, Zoe had reconsidered her stance, even giving it another go with Bryce. He’d been a proud member of the Las Vegas PD for a year at that point, seeming like he’d gained enough distance from his US Marines days to accept a few imperfections in people—perhaps even his girlfriend.

  Right.

  She’d been too scared to research the point beyond that whole disaster, opting to keep her remaining D/s fantasies intact—until tonight, when Shane Burnett had stepped out of her dreams and into that airport bar. Now here she was, naked in his arms, perhaps more than physically—and the man’s features were an agonizing zero for clarification.

  He gave her more of the mystery when grabbing her wrists and redirected her hands over the muscles she’d just been craving. Zoe moaned as he guided her fingers up his taut stomach, over his massive chest, and then atop the shoulders that bunched, beneath her exploring fingers. Encouraged by his aroused hiss, Zoe let her lips follow along the same path.

  “Zoe. Sweet baby girl. Yessss.”

  Perhaps it was good she had no brain left. If she had, the thing would’ve been blown apart by everything about this experience. He actually let her touch him. And dear God, how he caressed her in return. Connected with her. Called her sweet and beautiful and told her about all the ways she pleased him—yet through it all, never let her forget exactly who called the shots between them tonight.

  Him. Only him.

  And she didn’t want it any other way.

  The confession pealed joy through her heart as Shane pulled her off her feet again. This time, he used the motion to lower her to the bed, following her to the mattress. Once more, she wondered if she was living out a movie script, including the most devastating leading man she could ever ask for. Everything was included except the sultry R&B soundtrack.

  “Still convinced I’m secretly a little green man from a planet made of cheese?” he finally whispered.

  She ran a hand up his muscled neck. “Like you’ve been labeled ‘little’ a day in your life.”

  She expected him to chuckle. Instead, a frown formed across his face. “That’d be a negative,” he muttered. Aha. More military talk. The words practically beckoned her to call him out again. Burnett wasn’t stupid; he knew it, too—but as she pulled in breath for the words, he sucked them from her with another hard kiss.

  Dios, this man and his kisses.

  He didn’t even give her time to regroup. Thunder gathered in his chest, rougher than before, as he pressed his forehead to hers. At the same time, he positioned his knees inside hers and shoved them wide. With a harsh grunt, he swept her arms over her head, capturing both her wrists beneath one of his.

  Zoe writhed, whimpered, and shivered. Maybe he’d truly thrown her into a rocket and taken her to another planet. Everything was so surreal. His hands were now forged in iron. His stare was hammered copper. Even the abrasion of his wool pants inside her thighs was a visceral reminder of the delicious contrasts between them. Steel against soft. Command met with compliance. A Dominant preparing to take his submissive.

  Yes. Oh, yes.

  She didn’t realize the word had tumbled out aloud until Shane brushed his lips to her ear and growled, “Like this, do you?” A deeper sound rolled out of him as she managed a jerky nod. “Me too, baby girl. Restraining you like this. Feeling you move under me, knowing I’m going to be inside you soon. Knowing how I’ll fuck you until ordering you to come for me…”

  “Ohhhh. Sí. Asi me gusta. Por favor…cojamos.”

  “Soon, baby girl. But that doesn’t mean you have to stop begging.” He swept his mouth back up, taking passionate nips at the corners of her lips. “Damn. The things you say, Zoe. The way you say them… They make me so goddamn hard.”

  She lifted a little smile in answer. “And the things you do…they make me…”

  “It’s okay.” It was a demand more than assurance. “Tell me. Don’t leave a fucking thing out.”

  “They make me wet.” She blurted it before losing the nerve. “And…hot. Everything tingles. Even my nipples. Especially my nipples. Burnett—”

  She barely pushed out the name before he tore it from her lips with a hot, hungry assault. When he finally dragged away, he growled, “Call me Sir now. I need to hear it wrapped in your lust.”

  She nodded. “Y-Yes, Sir.” But as soon as the words spilled out, so did heavy tears. She blinked and thrashed her head to the side, bracing for Shane’s blowback on her emotion. When men saw tears, it was like having acid spilled on their balls. Maybe she could hide them by keeping her face in the shadows…

  He didn’t issue a sound.

  Instead, he pressed lower—and began wicking the tears off her cheeks with his lips. Sheer shock pulled her face back around. His action was by no means tender, but it wasn’t angry, either. He was passionate, even hungry. Feasting on her tears. Treasuring them.

  That was it. He didn’t just amaze her anymore. He knocked every shred of logic from her brain. Tumbled the apple cart of her composure. Wading through the applesauce aftermath, she cried harder.

  “Yes.” His exhortation, rough but fervent, stopped the air in her lungs. “Fuck yes, tiny dancer. Don’t stop giving it to me.”

  She couldn’t fight him if she tried. And Dios, how she was tempted to try. She was bared to him in so many ways now. She was a blubbering mess, half her makeup likely gone, yet Shane kept drenching her in his smile, his
burnished beauty growing with every minute. His gaze turned molten as he rained more kisses over her face. His lips glistened from the bath of her tears. His jaw, already hardened by the room’s shadows, intensified another degree as he reared back, released her, and withdrew a condom from his wallet.

  “Keep your hands there,” he instructed quietly, tossing his pants and the wallet toward the couch. “You’re so fucking mesmerizing like this. Keep your hands tangled in your hair like that. And your nipples jutted up. Incredible. You humble me, baby girl. Offering yourself like this… Fuck…what a gift.”

  The sting of her tears worsened. It was too much to handle. He was too damn beautiful. Too many of her fantasies were coming true at once. It was a situation set up for failure, probably hers. She needed to safe word out and make him leave before she messed up and turned this into another grueling memory.

  She gained new courage by beholding the heat on Shane’s face. And the harsh breaths lifting his chest. And the arousal parting his lips as he set aside the condom in order to free his belt—and then his fly.

  “Mierda.” Astonishment drenched her voice. “Sh-Shane. Sir…”

  “It’s your fault,” he muttered. “I was dust from the second you walked up in the bar.”

  “There’s nothing dusty about that.”

  She nodded at his erection. Correction—at the most magnificent cock she’d seen in her life. Even the marble statues at Caesar’s Palace couldn’t compare to the huge, hard length rising from the patch of auburn curls between his thighs, with its flawless crown gleaming at the top. Even the slit in that dark red bulb seemed carved by the angels to perfection.

  Dios. Had she really almost safe worded on him—and missed this? How had her pre-estimation of him been so wrong? She’d been a dance lead for over a year now. Sizing up men, as well as costume parts to service every inch of their boy parts, was a job requirement. She hadn’t been wrong about those guesses in a very long time. This was a lesson learned in an interesting way. Presumptions could turn into shocking ass biters.

  She tore her sights from Shane’s crotch to his face. Surely she wasn’t the first woman who’d dropped her jaw on his toes in reaction to his “gifts,” but nothing close to a gloat defined his features. His lips remained tight. His stare was taut. Every chiseled line of his face conveyed nothing but raw desire, open lust.

  Stomach, meet heart.

  “Do you get it now?” He closed a fist around his shaft. “Do you understand what you’ve been doing to me since the second I laid eyes on you?”

  A gulp pounded down her throat as he kept caressing his broad length. She longed to raise her arms and touch him too, but her desire to honor his wishes was more important. He enjoyed watching her like this, physically proving her surrender to him—in so many ways, a bondage that meant more than the real thing. And in this position, she was forced to open herself to him more…to show her need thoroughly through her gaze.

  “No different than what you’ve done to me, Sir.”

  He prowled back over her body with the stealth of a mountain lion, and sank his mouth onto hers with thrusts of growing need. He finally positioned himself on one elbow so he could keep his face level with hers as he ripped open the condom and rolled it over his stunning length.

  Longing curled in her core, escalating into a moan up her throat. The sound detonated again when Shane recentered himself, elbows planted on either side of her head. He locked his hands atop her wrists and slid his erection between her labia…spurring her whole body to tremble.

  “Ahhhh.” Her head fell back into the pillow with the groan.

  Shane answered with a low snarl, finishing it with an extra savage note. “Very nice, but not enough, baby girl.” He nipped her chin. “I need more. You’re going to give it to me, and you’re going to do it now.”

  A merciless mix of expectation and anxiety made her whole body clench. What did “more” mean? They weren’t on a leather-padded bed in the middle of a BDSM dungeon with a hundred rig points. On the other hand, he’d shown her the pointlessness of all that simply with the force of his fingers on her breasts. Was she willing to trust that more from him would be an experience just as surprising…?

  She answered that by swallowing deeply and then summoning two words to her lips.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  His snarl turned sensual. He softly kissed her on the mouth. “Good girl.”

  She gave him a tentative smile. “I want to please you.”

  He scrutinized her for a long moment. “And that scares you.”

  “A little. Yes.”

  “I know. And it’s okay.” His gaze roamed over her face with heavy-hooded heat. “That’s why you’re still going to talk to me.”

  She didn’t hide her surprise. “You…want me to…”

  “Yes.” He kissed her fast but went on. “You want to please me? Then words are what I want. Talk to me in that incredible voice of yours, Zoe.” He stroked the tips of his fingers from her palms to her wrists. “Tell me what you want. You know where I stand already.”

  “And you don’t think I stand in the exact same—” She dropped into silence from the power of his sudden glower. Then gasped from the new press of his cock through her folds. By every saint in heaven, that felt so good. “Dios.”

  “Mmmmm. I like that look on your face, baby girl.”

  “I like what you’re doing to put it there, Sir.”

  “Good.” He trailed his mouth from one side of her face to the other. “Very good. Now tell me more.”

  His voice dropped into a warmer register, melting all over her senses, tantalizing every inch of her pussy. “I…I like the feeling of your body against mine,” she murmured.

  “Yeah,” he encouraged. “Very good. More. Naughtier. Dirtier.” He rocked their bodies together, his shoulders captivating as they strained, his thighs massaging the insides of hers. “What part of my body?”

  “Your…ummm…” What was wrong with her? She was used to slinging biological terms all the time during rehearsals. It was nothing to ask for certain things to be thrust or grabbed or lunged. This sudden embarrassment was baffling. And she could get over it. The man’s own words helped her. This is exactly what I want…your surrender. Let it go. “Your cock…Sir.”

  “Yesssss. And where do you want it?”

  Her eyes slid shut as his growl made everything throb. Her nipples, her pussy, even the roots of her hair awakened for him. He was a new definition of commanding. Her huge, hard, dominant dream.

  “Inside me.” She was a little surprised at the gasp in her voice. “Please. Inside my pussy.”

  “Good. Good. Doing what, baby girl?”

  “Fucking me.” Her mental tethers fell away, useless against the heat of his desire, intensified as he slid his cock along her folds, moistening himself with the cream her body gave. “Fucking me hard and deep.”

  He pulled away a little, making Zoe cry in protest until she realized his purpose, to position his broad head at the entrance of her deepest core. He didn’t stop there. Her walls convulsed as he tested them, inching in a little. Then a little more.

  “Your body’s pleading for me, baby.” His whole frame vibrated as he forced his entry to a halt. “But I need to hear it from your mouth too.” He pushed the hair from her forehead. “Beg me for it, Zoe.”

  “Yes.” The acquiescence burst out eagerly now. “Dios, yes, Sir. Please. Please. I need this.”

  “Tell me you’re sure. I’m not a small man. I’m going to stretch you.”

  She twisted her wrists beneath his grip. Her blood was on fire. Her core strained and tightened, forcing her to lift her hips. “I’m sure. I’m sure.”

  “Again.” He pressed his lips into her hairline. “Say it again, damn it. I want you to be sure. I’m going to fuck you hard, Zoe—and I’m not going to be gentle about it.”

  “Do it.” The words were pleading rasps. Dios, she needed him. His smoldering, sinful smell. His looming, hard weight. His cock, swo
llen and magnificent, promising to fill her body in ways she’d never imagined. “Fill me, Shane. Fuck me. Take me. Dominate me. Please!”

  Chapter Five

  Damn.

  Damn.

  Damn.

  How the hell had he ever thought this woman would be a fun and forgettable fling?

  Stupid question. Nonexistent answer.

  He didn’t just want her. He craved her. And accepted, with grim resignation, that this might be the only time he’d have her. Even if he wasn’t eyeballs-deep in this dangerous ruse with Stock, what he’d ask of her was too much. He was already living on borrowed time, considering all the occasions he’d been dropped into parts of the Middle East that people didn’t want to know about.

  No. That moroseness didn’t belong here, in the rare gift of this night and the tight heaven of this woman’s body. But his desire for her extended beyond that. Zoe was so unbridled in her passion, so eager with her kisses, so open about her insecurities and what she perceived as her “failures”…and then so willing to let him help set her straight about how wrong she was.

  It was official. She was his submissive dream come true. He had the hard-on, more raging than any he’d had in a while, to confirm it. God help the woman.

  “Spread wider for me, baby.”

  Her eyes reopened, likely drawn by the lusty tension in his voice. Sure enough, as their eyes met, he watched fear tighten her features. She attempted a ready smile, which only drove in another knife of compunction. She was being so brave, refusing to safeword no matter how much his cock strained her tender tissues. At the same time, she drove him insane in all the most awesome ways. Damn, she was tight…and, despite her strain, getting wetter by the minute. Thank fuck for basic human physiology.

  But all the lubricant in the world wasn’t going to make some aspects of this any easier. He was big. She was small. Period.