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  A transformation…

  Indeed, she felt like a butterfly crawling at its chrysalis as he scooped his feet to the inner arches of hers, spreading her legs with his, opening her core to the wet, hard press of his body. She sighed with the onslaught of sensations. The hard, pressing demand of his feet against her insoles. The cool kiss of the water on the hot folds of her sex. His control. Her vulnerability. Her breath came in urgent thrusts as she struggled to process it all but couldn’t. Her head fell back. She slammed her eyes shut, needing the sanity of the darkness behind her lids.

  “No.” His reprimand was vicious this time, backed by one hand at her chin and the other at the top of her blouse. His shoulders bunched as he pulled the garment, exposing one of her breasts. He pulled her nipple with a long, hard pinch, making her glare. “No shutting me out.” He bared his teeth, smiling like a mountain lion on the prowl. Great. She was a flitting pollinator; he was a nocturnal predator. Worst of all, her body reveled in the contrast. Her pulse fluttered faster, and her pussy raced to catch up.

  “Right here, Rose.” His breath mingled with hers as he seated himself against her sex. His erection was full and hard beneath his pants. “Look. Here. At. Me.”

  “Can’t.” She couldn’t help it. Her eyelids drooped as her thighs burned and her buttocks convulsed. “It’s so much. Too much!”

  “Because you’re thinking about it. Let it go. Give it to me. All of it.” His tawny eyes swept every inch of her face. “Goddamn it, you’re exquisite like this.”

  A sob escaped her. Not just because of his words. It was the mirror of his eyes as he gave them, as he reflected how incredible her passion could be. The trait for which she’d always felt most ashamed was now a diamond chiseled from the cavern of her soul, the one thing she longed to set free, to be resplendent in the light of his gaze.

  “That’s it.” His lips curled up. His hand, dipping beneath the water again, left a sensual splash in its wake. “You remember last night?” he murmured, finding his way to the moist curls at her center, fingers exploring the soaked little forest. “You remember our little repetition exercise, Ms. Fabian?”

  She shivered and whimpered. His penetration was steady and sure…and magical. Without her arms, all she could use for communication were her lips, which she used to nuzzle him, and her torso, urgently thrusting toward him. “Yes. Yes, Sir, I remember.”

  “Mmm. Good. So you remember your body is beautiful?”

  “Yes!” She nodded as he shifted the hand at her breast, starting to massage the peak in an erotic circle.

  “And your desire too? And your surrender?”

  “Yes.” He changed the torment of his lower hand, raking his fingers deeper, finding her most tender flesh. He coaxed the soft nub out, splintering her. “Yes! M-My desire too. And my…my…”

  “Your surrender. Say it, honey. Just to me. Just for me.”

  “My…my surrender is beautiful.” She offered it with panting need, jerking her hips and craving more of his touch. With every swipe, his fingers shot an arrow of heat into the most illicit tissues of her womb.

  “Yes, it is—but you’re not giving it to me yet.”

  “B-But I—”

  “Need to be still, pet. You’ll get what you need, but not if you’re a moving target.”

  She groaned. Was he kidding? She clenched her thighs and tried to be good, to stay immobile. With an appreciative hum, he began the sensual pressure on her breast again. He started moving his fingers in her intimate folds as well…a dance of knowing, seductive spirals…

  It was torment. It was heaven. Rose’s blood turned to fire, raging hotter and faster.

  “Oh,” she finally cried, her mouth falling open. “Ohhh please!”

  She couldn’t believe the control in his face and the surety of his fingers. While he smiled with pleasure from her reaction, not one muscle shook in his body. He was maddening and mesmerizing. Completely in power. Totally in his element.

  “We’re going to add a new affirmation tonight.” He said it as he tugged the other shoulder of her blouse down. “Are you ready?” Her newly revealed nipple slipped into his warm, consuming mouth. The tight bud tingled from his touch and sent ripples of new awareness through her whole body.

  “I…I don’t know what I am anymore.”

  It was the truth, and his knowing chuckle told her he knew it. His beard rasped the side of her breast, giving her delicious abrasiveness. “Give it to me nice and clear, honey. ‘My passion is beautiful.’”

  She would’ve complied, had he not picked that instant to intensify the strokes on her clit. He pulled her apart, strung her out, teased and nipped until she keened, acutely aware of the hot cream in her vagina, making her ready for more of him. “My—my—damn!”

  Mark laughed again. It was better than a snarl of disapproval—maybe. If he tantalized her like this much longer, her whimpers would burst into something for the whole island’s ears. “Oh yes, Rose. You’re incredible. Look into my eyes and see yourself reflected there. See yourself as I see you. Then give me the words. Give them to me and believe them.”

  The rough raffia of his tone was sweet bondage on her gaze, lifting her lids so she could take in the fire of his stare. And as he promised, she did see herself there. In the sheen of his lust, she saw an adorable and sexy pet. In the deeper shades beneath, she saw a woman desired, needed. And in the darkest labyrinths, nearly black in hue, she comprehended the most special beauty she held to him, the most precious gift she’d given him. She saw the breathtaking strength of a Dominant, at his fullest glory. He’d been transformed too.

  As those comprehensions filled her, she longed to say the words for him. She needed to. And she meant every syllable of them as they emerged without a falter. “My passion is beautiful…Sir.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mark knew she’d say it. He had no doubt she’d give him the words, even before he gave her the direction. He’d gotten the confirmation again when ordering her gaze into his and had made her behold the truth of all this: that despite her locked wrists and spread legs, she was still the one here with the power.

  What he hadn’t expected was how she’d bottle the strength into five words—and with the sweet gift of her voice alone, throw it all back at him. Into him.

  The impact shoved the air from his chest.

  “Christ.”

  He barely got it out. The enormity of her gift slammed him with every passing second, with every new emotion igniting the curves of her face. This woman’s spirit had been trampled for so long, subjugated nearly her whole life. That Rose trusted him with it now, giving it over with such clarity and conviction, acted like a rainstorm on the mountainside of his self-control. The whole thing slid away in one sweep.

  And what was left?

  The granite cliff of his Dominant.

  “Very good.” He loved how the grit in his tone made her lashes fly up, her tongue dart out. “You are beautiful. And so hot and sweet.” He tested her readiness by shifting two fingers into the tightness beneath her clit. Her walls sucked him in at once, a wet and pulsing heaven. His cock, already jammed against his fly, screamed at him for release.

  He channeled the new tension into grabbing her under the ribs, lifting her out of the water, and parking her gorgeous backside onto the pool’s edge. In one sweep, he hiked himself out too. She stared up at him with a little apprehension, but much of it disappeared as soon as he lifted her, cradling her close, before striding to a nearby chaise. After positioning her against the upright back of the chair, he took a moment to stand back and simply stare.

  “Damn, I wish I had a camera.” He lifted a long, appreciative smile. “But nobody would believe the picture was real. You’re so fucking stunning like this, with the water dripping off you and your desire glowing from the inside out.” He moved to the foot of the chaise, letting her watch as he pulled off his pants and briefs, setting his erection free. “See what you do to me?” With legs braced, he stroked himself, punctuat
ing with a hiss from the sensual agony of it. His shaft stretched and grew as Rose arched her back, her breath quickening. “Now let me see what I do to you.” It was a complete command, making her body tremble more and turning her nipples to pearls in the moonlight. “Lift your legs and spread them. One knee over each arm of the chair. Open yourself for me.”

  She gasped at that but in all the right ways. Holy fuck, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew it the moment she complied with his order, yet he didn’t want this to end. He wanted to string out every moment of the look on her face, the glistening desire from her pussy, this airtight connection between them, this power transfer he craved.

  “Oh, Rose.” The words came from his gut. “Look at you, bound and beautiful and ready. You are ready, aren’t you? Your thighs are trembling, and your cunt is glistening.” He raised his stare, taking in the gorgeous wince on her face. “What do you need, pet? I want to give you whatever you desire.”

  Her answer took barely two seconds. “You.”

  “Me?” He gave her a slow smirk. “Me…how?”

  “Inside me. Please…Sir.”

  When he’d first arrived at the villa, the concierge showed him a poolside credenza filled with assorted guest amenities. He’d nearly chuckled at observing the shelf filled with a selection of sex essentials. Now he covered the distance to that cabinet in two steps, ripped the door open, and grabbed a foil packet off the shelf. By the time he pivoted and knelt on the chaise between Rose’s legs, he had the condom out and ready.

  “Well,” he drawled, rolling the latex over his swollen, aching length. “What the pet needs, the Master gives.”

  “Yes.” She choked on whatever else she had to say, the sound dissolving into a gorgeous moan as he edged the hot head of his cock into her welcoming channel.

  After that push, he was lost too. In one slide, he sheathed himself as far as he could go—giving over his own surrender. He was a prisoner of her heat, her tightness, her precious pulses of passion. He growled with the rightness of it, their stares connecting deeper as their bodies did, taking and giving to each other with each stroke. He braced his hands beneath her hips, cupping her ass as he thrust faster, harder. A breeze kicked the air, mixing the scents of sea foam and frangipani into the tang of their lust-slick bodies. That was the poetic part. Other smells pushed at his self-control too. The wet leather of his belt. The water on her skin. And yes, that lingering chill to her breath betraying the fear she still gripped, far down in her psyche.

  Now, with her body around him and her wide dark eyes pulling him, he understood more of that distress.

  Maybe…

  Rose had known all along.

  Maybe she’d sensed, in that crazy female way, that if they explored even a spark of attraction, it would explode into this consuming fire…threatening to melt much more than their bodies…

  But even as the thought terrorized his brain, he knew he’d never heed it.

  With his gaze delving deeper into hers, he gritted one confirming word to that.

  “More.”

  He dug his fingers into her soft skin, fully intending to leave marks.

  “I need more, honey. Spread your legs wider. Tighten your muscles inside. Pull me deeper. Deeper. Take every inch, Rose!”

  Her face twisted tight as she struggled to obey. It was a more stunning sight than any sunset this island could conjure. When she cried out from the extra depth he gained, he gritted his teeth in a pleased smile.

  “Good,” he murmured. “Very good. You’re so good for me.” As reward, he reached and loosened the belt, coaxing her arms forward. “Hang on tight, pet. This is going to be a great ride.”

  Her arms flung around his shoulders. The belt was still looped around one of her wrists, so the leather smacked his back with her motion. He groaned from the stinging bite of it. The breeze became gusts now. Water spanked the sides of the pool. He kept time, taking her so hard their bodies slapped. The smell of rain touched the air. Fitting. His senses were already a storm. He buried his face in Rose’s neck, losing himself in her racing heartbeat, her tight body, and her panting, needing submission.

  “Give it to me,” he ordered into her ear. “Shatter for me, pet.”

  Two more thrusts, and she was a ball of thorough obedience. Her cry, high and keening, hit the air like lightning and his balls like wildfire. As she shuddered with her orgasm, her walls convulsing around him, the flames shot up his shaft. His orgasm hit in a wild, hard rush. Silver specks danced in his vision.

  He couldn’t think. For a second, that panicked him. He’d never been unable to keep control, to be aware of outside elements as he took a sub to completion, especially in a chaise lounge on an island resort with a spring storm approaching.

  But Rose was no ordinary submissive.

  Rose was no ordinary anything.

  As equilibrium returned, he actually chuckled at the thought. The description had come upon him so easily, and he wasn’t about to take back a word of it. Because it was all true.

  Rose arched her neck, shuddering from the little movement of his mouth. “Holy. Shit.” It came out on a pair of gasps. “Are you laughing? I can…barely…think.”

  He kissed the ridge beneath her ear. “Because you, my sweet, submissive girl, didn’t just come out of the kinkster closet.”

  “Huh?”

  “You tumbled.”

  She snorted. “I was pushed.”

  He moved his lips along her jaw, nibbling his way to her mouth. “We’re at an impasse, hmm?” After giving her a swift kiss, he flashed an enigmatic smile. “Maybe we’ll just need a do-over.”

  She turned her face, looking delectable even in her confusion. When she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, he took the chance to run gentle fingers over her wrist. The skin was still scuffed but would likely clear up in a few hours. He pulled his fingers back, replacing them with his mouth. No kisses this time. He licked her skin instead. Yet as her breath jolted faster, spurring his tiny laves into broader swipes, fat raindrops began plopping on them.

  “Pool party’s over.” He adjusted her blouse back into place. Trusting her skirt would drop down of its own accord when she stood—or maybe not, and that was all the better—he rose and yanked on his pants, barely zipping before he picked up his briefs and her shoes. “Come.” He reached for her. When she hesitated, he quipped, “I’d make some excuse about not wanting you to get wet, but I have a hunch you’d see through me.”

  That thawed her quiet awkwardness. A little. As they walked into the villa, she replied, “It’s perfect timing, anyhow. Now nobody will question the state of my clothes.”

  He stopped. “Why would anyone question your clothes?”

  It was a rhetorical question. He practically read the answer in the glance she gave the door but was going to make her voice it anyhow. “It’s not a short walk back to my room, Senator. And it’s not too late yet. People will still be up. And—”

  “And what if I kept you here until it is too late?”

  He cupped her shoulder. She wrenched away. He allowed the rebuff, but if she thought he’d let her lunge out, dismissing what they’d just done like nothing more than a summer storm, the woman was delusional.

  Her shoulders hunched as she crossed her arms. Her whole bearing edged back toward watchful caution. Mark fought the craving to shake her. To knock free the bricks of those walls she was erecting before his eyes again.

  She set free a resigned sigh. “Is this where you tell me we need to talk?”

  He planted a wide stance behind her. Peeled off his shirt so when she glanced back—and he suspected she would—she’d have to confront him in nothing but his conviction and command. Devious? Yes. Necessary? Also affirmative. There were more ways to knock down her bricks than the obvious.

  “We can get there by talking. Or any other means necessary.”

  “Get where?” She turned and gaped. “Errmmm…Sena—”

  “Oh, no. Don’t you go there. You’re no
t hiding me behind the Senator thing. Not now.” He closed on her by another step. “You’re still dealing with me as a man, Rose. As Mark. As Sir. And you’re dealing with yourself and what you’ve just discovered about yourself. No sweeping this under the rug. No pretending it didn’t happen.” He leaned in, pulling her arms apart now and holding them at her sides. “No forgetting how you came apart for me. How you flew. How we both did.”

  The energy of her sob filled the air before the sound of it. “Damn it! You don’t understand!” Despite the dismissal, she gripped his forearms like driftwood in a flood. “I have to forget, okay? I can’t fly. If I fly, I fall—and it’ll hurt. And I won’t be able to heal the damage this time. I won’t be…able to…”

  The tears took over her voice, and her pain took over his heart. He enveloped her hands in his own before sliding them around his neck—and swore, if he ever met the people responsible for this disgusting mental programming, he hoped it was in a crowd. In close quarters, the bridge between his rage and his fists wouldn’t stay intact.

  “You won’t fall, sweetheart.” He tucked her head into his chest. “I swear it. I won’t let you.”

  She softened against him. She fit there so perfectly, smelling of rain and vanilla and sex…surrounding his senses.

  Unchaining his soul.

  “Rose,” he whispered. “Rosalind. Sweet pet…” The last of it died in the beginning of their kiss, a consummation of tongues and lips and need. A mewl swirled up her throat, unfastening his self-restraint by a dozen more latches. He ended the kiss by twisting a hand into her hair. She hissed as her head arched back, a sound mixed of pain and pleasure, driving him to sink his teeth into the flawless column of her neck.

  “Y-You have to s-stop calling me th-that,” she stammered.

  He went for the sleek line of her jugular. “Hmm. All right. If you really don’t like it…”

  “I love it.” She tunneled her fingers into his hair. “Which is why you need to stop.”

  Dark growl. “That, my pet, is called topping from the bottom. And if you’re not careful, it’ll get you punished.”