Edge of the Enforcer

Chapter Two

Her Pacific Heights place was fairly close, and yet she always felt nervous when outside in the open. What if Travis finds me and sets someone up with a rifle? She never managed to relax until she was out of the parking garage and safe in the secured building.

Her heart rate was still elevated when the doorman greeted her with his usual Miss Lindsey, and she led deVries into the elevator.

On the way up to her floor, he frowned at her and tilted her face up. “If you’re this scared, maybe you should back out.”

“Huh?” God, he thought she was afraid of him. “Oh. Right. Parking garages make me jumpy.”

After a long regard, he nodded. The elevator doors opened. As they walked down the hall to the overly ornate, very gorgeous condo, he set his hand on her lower back. The warmth of his palm went right through the denim wraparound dress to sear her skin, blasting away any thought of fear. The knowledge his powerful hands would restrain her body in a few minutes made the very air of the hallway shimmer with heat.

After she ushered him in, he strolled across the living room and silently took in the view of the Ferry Building and the Bay Bridge. Down below, the city sparkled with lights. “Pretty pricy digs, little girl.”

“I like them,” she said lightly. It had been an unanticipated dream when a rich friend of Xavier’s left for Europe and needed a condo-sitter. Although the Italianate décor was stuffy—at least to her mind—everything was oh, so luxurious. Even the fancy house Victor had owned in San Antonio didn’t compare.

Abandoning the view, deVries turned. Utterly confident and masculine, he looked at her, taking her in at his leisure, until she could almost feel his attention stroking against her skin. “Lose the dress.” His voice was level. Unreadable. “Kneel there and wait for me.”

Oh. Man. Her fingers fumbled with the dress’s ties as every nerve in her body started to dance.

***

The surroundings didn’t please deVries. Cold and formal—very different from the warm little submissive kneeling in the living room. But the view over the Bay was a plus. Maybe he’d do her there, looking down at the lights of the city.

He studied her for a minute.

Fast, shallow breathing. The flush on her lightly tanned cheeks deepened with his perusal. He could see her nipples were hard under the fuzzy bra. Her hands on her thighs weren’t palm up as he liked, but were turned over, her fingers digging into the skin. Nervous. Excited. Maybe a little scared.

She should be.

“What the hell were you thinking letting a stranger into your home?”

Her startled gaze met his. “You’re not a stranger. I know you.”

“Hardly. I could break your pretty neck.”

Her lips curved slightly. “Bless your heart; you’re worried about me, aren’t you?”

“About your common sense.”

“I’ve never brought�� I mean, I’m careful. Abby was on reception and knows you’re here…so Xavier will also know.” Her smile disappeared. “I’m not completely stupid. Xavier and Simon are your friends.”

“You’re smarter than you look.”

Her glare was pretty ineffective considering her cat ears had slid sideways. “If you’re through insulting me, how about I give you a blowjob and we call this quits?”

Fuck, she was cute when steamed. His hard-on had returned; his cock was past ready for relief. Pity that, since he had no intention of rushing. Not with this little submissive. However, she needed to learn that snark didn’t win a reward. Not in his universe. “If you’re so eager, you can start with a blowjob.” He stepped in front of her. “Go on.”

Her flush was more from anger now than arousal, but her gaze lowered. And she leaned away from him.

Hell. Even for him, he was being an asshole. He dropped to one knee and lifted her chin. Confused brown eyes met his. Setting his hand on her shoulder, he bent and kissed her gently. Pulled back an inch. “Check the attitude, baby, yeah?”

She gave a tiny sigh and nodded. Her eyes were liquid and soft—anger gone. There it was…she wanted him.

He ran his tongue over her lips, felt them part, and took her mouth. Jesus Christ, she had soft lips. Her body was vibrating with anticipation. Nice.

This time when he rose to his feet, she leaned forward. Her eager, graceful hands undid the buttons of his leathers, releasing him. Fuck, the freedom felt good.

She started to take him in her mouth, and he made a reproving noise. “Tongue first. Hands on my thighs.”

Gripping his legs, she licked around his dick, tracing the veins, teasing the head, the slit. Pink heightened the color in her cheeks, and her knees squeezed together. Nice. She liked giving blowjobs. “Take me in your mouth.”

Her annoyed look at his direction was totally bogus. She moved one hand to direct his cock toward her.

“Hands stay on my legs.”

“Sheesh,” she said under her breath. After some awkward fumbling, she got his cock in her mouth, and damn, the feeling of being engulfed in steamy softness almost made him lose control. A tiny purr vibrated through her throat and into his dick. She bobbed her head up and down, her little tongue swirling, taking her time. Trying to tease him.

Uh-uh. Letting her have too much control wasn’t good for either of them.

So he leaned forward and bracketed her head with his hands. His slightly bent position tilted his shaft in a better angle for her throat, and he used her hair to guide her. He slowed so his control couldn’t get fucked up, then went faster.

When her fingernails dug into his legs despite the leather, he grinned. She appeared submissive enough in the club—however, he’d only seen her in lightweight scenes. He wondered how much she really surrendered.

By the time he was through with her tonight, she’d give him everything.

LINDSEY HELD ON to Devries’s legs, trying to think. Couldn’t. Her mouth was filled with his cock. His ruthless fist in her hair took all control from her, and every thought in her brain kept swirling away.

He thrust harder, pulling her head down on him, hitting the back of her throat. She struggled to suppress her gag reflex and swallowed to increase his pleasure. His guttural groan sent a shiver of delight through her. He wouldn’t let her offer him less than he wanted—and God, she loved knowing that. And loved trying to give him more than he thought he could get.

To her dismay, he set her back on her heels and buttoned himself away.

When she pouted, he traced his finger over her wet lips. “Very nice, babe.” His half smile streamed into her, warming her. “Stand up.”

With a hand under her arm, he helped her up and moved closer. His lean fingers were teasingly rough as they glided over her collarbone around to the back of her neck. She shivered. When he gripped her nape, her knees almost buckled. Holding her still, he ran his other hand over her torso.

He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers—lips unexpectedly gentle. The hold on her nape was unyielding.

After removing her bra, he stroked his finger around her breasts. Between them. Across her stomach. Her ribs. One finger above her mound. As his hand played over her body, his gaze stayed on her face. Learning her. Her hot zones, her triggers.

His fingers brushed down her spine and reached the ever-so-sensitive hollow at the base.

Her toes curled into the carpet. Jeez, he hadn’t even touched her pussy, and she was ready to come.

He lingered there, one finger circling right where her buttocks joined her back, dipping down into the crease, and finally, finally farther. His big hand cupped one buttock, and he gave a grunt. “You got a nice ass, girl.”

Standing at her side, he pushed her briefs down to tangle around her ankles, and she tensed. All of her body seemed to be pulsating, begging for more. Growing increasingly sensitive the longer he touched her.

She could feel him watching her. Waiting…for something. With an effort, she controlled her breathing, tried to act like a good submissive and be patient—even though she wanted to grab his T-shirt and demand he take her.

Now, dammit.

He made a huffing sound—a laugh—and smacked her ass, hard and stinging.

The shockwave blasted into her, swirling like water down the drain and right to her clit. “Criminy!” Her fingers curled into fists as her need yanked at her like a bull in breeding season.

“Enjoy that, do you?” His voice was a low growl. Releasing her neck, he set his palm on her stomach to brace her and spanked her. The sound of his palm slapping her bottom rang through the room, each blow an explosion of bright fire sliding into a deep pool of molten sensation.

The blows lightened. He slowed, stopped, and tipped her face up with steely fingers under her chin.

Tears had filled her eyes, and yet her skin burned with a tantalizing heat. And she wanted more. More and more and more.

“Step out of the briefs.” He waited while she forced her shaking legs to obey. “Thighs wide, pet.”

Oh God. She widened her stance, biting her lip against the moan when he cupped her mound, his fingers skating over her labia. “Drenched.” He gave a grunt of approval. “We’re going to get along well.”

The thought was terrifying. Appalling.

Horribly exciting.

His fingers spread the wetness up over her clit before he teased it. When he bit her neck, she couldn’t keep the moan back. His chuckle vibrated the delicate skin under her ear.

But when he ran a wet finger around one nipple, she suppressed a frustrated sigh. Typical guy. Her nipples weren’t sensitive; touching them affected her as much as playing with her knees. Men never understood that, though.

His gaze intensified as he switched to the other nipple, flicking it lightly.

She shifted, feeling as if she was letting him down. As if she should react. Act pleased or something. “Uh—”

“Don’t talk, pet.” His face in the faint light was hard, his lips almost cruel, his focus totally on her. No one had ever watched her so closely. The knowledge was heady, yet sent a curl of anxiety pricking up her spine.

He pinched her right nipple lightly, and his fingers implacably, bit by bit, pressed together.

She grabbed his arm, yet her clenching hand made no impression on his thickly muscled forearm. As the increasing pain in her nipple tangled with her nerves, biting into her, the pressure seemed to be on her clit as well. Her breathing caught, sped, caught.

“Oh yeah,” he muttered. “You were designed for clamps, baby. And electricity.”

What?

He released her, and his palm engulfed her breast completely. She had a moment to wish she were bigger before he angled his hand so he could pull her breast outward and squeeze.

Hurting her. Smothering a cry, she felt her back arch as the inferno of need rolled through her.

“Fucking beautiful.” He moved to her other breast, tormenting it until it swelled with pain, until her pussy throbbed in demand.

“Oh criminy.” She’d never felt like this, her senses conflicting. Raw.

His dimple showed before he wrapped her hair around one hand, holding her as his demanding lips moved over hers, his tongue plunging within, taking and taking. As he squeezed her breast again, his mouth drank in her cry of pain.

He lifted his head, and his gaze burned over her face, before his mouth descended on hers again. Each time he hurt her, his hand tightened in her hair, his lips forcing her to respond. The ground swayed beneath her as her bones turned to rubber.

When his cheek brushed hers, his jaw was scratchy with stubble and his whisper hot against her ear. “Fuck, you’re sweet.”

He drew her closer, kneading her ass with a powerful hand. As he rubbed his chest against her acutely sensitive, abused breasts, she felt trapped, engulfed by hardness. Her entire body melted down into a puddle.

“We’re going to have fun.” He kissed her lightly, chucked her under her chin as if she were a child. From his bag, he removed a towel, putting it over the arm of the sofa. He picked up a glass anal plug as thick as a cock. “Bend over there, pet.”

She swayed, almost dizzy, but not so much she couldn’t fear. “Too big,” she whispered. “Please…”

“You think?” He glanced down at it and chose one more slender. His nod toward the couch was implacable as he took lube from his bag.

Her asshole was already puckering as she bent. The towel was scratchy against her mound. God, although she’d given anal sex a fair shot in the past, the activity simply wasn’t one of her favorites. Why had she agreed to it? She gritted her teeth. Dummy, don’t ever play war games with Dominants.

After pulling her cheeks apart, he unhurriedly worked the plug in. Cool and slick and still…too damn big. When she tightened against it, he smacked her butt hard enough to make her yelp. He paused and started again.

Burn, stretch, burn, stretch. The plug pushed her open to the widest point, and she whimpered.

“Fuck, I love that sound.” And he continued until it plopped into place. “You can wear this for a bit; my cock will widen you some more.”

Oh no. No, no, no. Her fingernails were permanently dug into the sofa cushions, her body totally stiff.

“Easy, pet.” The growl of his voice softened. “You’ll be able to take me.” He stroked her bottom in relaxing circles, and the aching in her asshole eased. “Safeword’s red,” he said. “Same as at the club. You’re experienced enough to use it if you need to, girl.”

His raspy baritone was oddly soothing, and his leisurely intimate caresses slowed her stampeding heart, guiding her away from fear as if he’d taken the reins from her hands. She dropped her head to rest on her forearms. Surrendering. He’d do to her what he wanted to do.

And she’d let him.

“Good girl.” A minute passed. Another. Only the measured stroke of his callused hand marked the passing of time.

Eventually he hauled her to her feet and tossed the towel onto the center cushion. “Sit on the sofa.”

When she sat, the scratchy terry cloth rubbed against her tender bottom. As the plug pushed higher inside her, she shifted, trying to find a place that didn’t put pressure on it. There wasn’t one.

“Don’t worry; you won’t be thinking about it soon.” DeVries gave her the ominous statement as he set bandage scissors on the coffee table. He wound rope around her wrist and paused. “Your file showed no medical concerns. Are marks a problem?”

Not in San Francisco, where everyone wore a sweater or a suit. “No, Sir.”

“Good.”

He ran the ropes over the sofa ends and down to the wooden legs, pulling her arms out to each side. As he finished the knots, she looked at the leather wrist and ankle cuffs in his toy bag. Why was he using rope?

He followed her gaze. “Metal and electricity don’t mix well.”

Electricity. Oh God.

After positioning her with her ass on the edge of the bottom cushion and her shoulders against the sofa back, he tied each ankle to a sofa leg. Her knees were widely apart, her pussy open and…way too accessible. To electricity.

As he set up the violet wand equipment, she looked up into his tanned face. In the dim light, she couldn’t read his eyes. “I’m not a masochist,” she whispered. “I’m—”

“I know.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I won’t hurt you past what you can take.”

Oh God, he wasn’t very reassuring. There was a wide gap between take and enjoy. She closed her eyes and concentrated on regulating her breathing.

“Eyes on me, pet.” He stepped on the foot pedal, and the wand came to life with an ominous crackling. Inside the mushroom-headed, transparent tube, the gas turned a glowing violet color.

The mushroom top approached her arm, making a bacon-in-the-frying-pan sound. She tensed. But for nothing. In fact, she didn’t feel a thing.

He studied her face before adjusting the setting. She felt a slight tingle. Another adjustment. The sound grew louder.

This time, as he ran the wand up her arm, a quarter inch from the skin, she bit her lip. The tingling had changed to an odd sparky feeling, not…quite…painful.

His lips tipped up slightly. “About right.” He moved the tube over her upper arm, hovering above the skin. Fine sparks hit her, and her arm twitched, pulling on the rope.

Over her shoulder. Downward. Oh God.

She shivered as he circled one breast, and the other, the tingling like a myriad of tiny bites. Her nipples bunched until they ached.

“Nice.” His voice was husky.

“DeVries,” she whispered, not sure what she wanted to say. “I—”

His foot came off the pedal, and he leaned forward to kiss her, sweetly and slowly. His mouth traced over the curve of her neck and down.

He took one nipple in his mouth—typical man, going for the breasts—and sucked hard. His teeth pinched the peak painfully.

She gasped, sensation bursting through her.

He sucked on the other peak, nipped, straightened, and smiled into her eyes. The hint of a dimple appeared in his right cheek. “Now, we’ll play.”

After changing the attachment on the wand to a long metal-tipped cord he tucked under his belt, he stepped on the foot pedal. Sparks flew from his fingertips, tingling over her.

He moved one hand up, always less than an inch from her skin, and one finger circled her breast. Angled in toward her right nipple.

She tensed. Bit her lip against the need to yell no.

His gaze made a circuit, checking her face, her muscles, the position of his hand. He circled the areola, almost touching, and the arcing electricity felt like bubbly water. Pleasant.

All too soon he widened the gap between his finger and her skin, and the bubbles turned to needlelike sparks. Painful sparks. She jumped, tugged on the ropes, yet could feel her body responding, wanting more as arousal bloomed with liquid heat inside her.

He did her other breast, creating a stream of sensation to her lower half, until her pussy was throbbing. She shifted position, shifted again, and couldn’t even get her legs together to try to ease the urgency.

His chuckle was a wolflike growl. “Squirmy little girl. Pretty.” He shut the wand off and leaned forward, taking her nipple in his mouth, sucking on the abused tissue until she arched. He switched to the other one, and his tongue was enticingly wet and hot and smooth after the tormenting sparks.

The next time he turned the electricity on, he used his finger to make sizzling circles over her stomach, up her arms, and across her armpits. She giggled and wiggled…and gasped when her movements drove the anal plug deeper.

He moved down her thighs, teasing her with forays toward her mound. And each time the lightly painful sparks grew close, her hips rose upward to get touched there. And yet the idea was terrifying.

When the wand turned off, she moaned. Her pussy was so swollen, aching. She was dying here. “Sir,” she whispered. “Please.”

His eyes were half-lidded as he regarded her, “We can stop. I don’t know you well enough to push you.”

But… She didn’t wish for him to stop. Not really. “I meant—I want—”

“I know what you want, little girl.” His half smile was affectionate. Cruel.

Her insides clenched.

He went down on one knee between her legs, positioning himself so his wide shoulders avoided her knees and thighs.

What was he going to do? The Enforcer didn’t do oral—at least he never had in the club. To her surprise, he licked over her pussy, and his stiff tongue circled the entrance.

She was so needy and swollen, and the feeling of his mouth was totally lush, everything she wanted…yet not quite enough.

He swept his tongue over her clit, teased at the hood, and all her nerve endings seemed to focus on that spot.

And then he put his knee on the foot control, turning on the power. Bit by bit, he moved his head toward her thigh. Sparks leaped from his cheek, and her muscles jumped with the jolt of electricity. He tantalized her other leg with his face. And moved closer.

His nose almost touched her outer labia, and it felt like being in a Jacuzzi with the jets pointing directly at her. “Oh God!”

He pulled back, increasing the sparking until it was edged toward pain, as if the tingles were pushing through her skin and going deeper.

As he shifted upward, the muscles of her inner thighs tightened, trying to squeeze her legs together. God, she wasn’t sure she could take the feeling directly on her—

His tongue hovered over her clit, and electricity zipped from it to the exposed nub with an exquisitely painful burst of pleasure. “Aaah!” The pressure low in her core tightened.

He backed off and released the power.

As she sank back against the cushions, he nuzzled her. His beard stubble scraped over her shaved outer labia, over her mound. His tongue ran over her like hot, wet silk. The pressure inside her coiled fiercely.

His lips closed around her clit, and he sucked lightly.

More, more, more. Each tiny suck lured her closer. Her hands fisted as her thighs trembled. Her moan was long and shaky and made him laugh.

He lifted his head and, oh God, turned the electricity on again. The tiny zipping sounds increased as he leaned forward.

The shock struck a second before he closed his lips around the button of nerves. She was so swollen, so exposed that the bare touch of his tongue was almost too much. He sucked, and her hips bucked.

Immediately, he opened his mouth, and sparks flew in the tiny gap between his lips and her pussy. The tingles hit her from all sides, like bubbles hitting her at highway speeds.

Too much. Heat washed over her. She shuddered, pulling at the restraints, needing more, needing less.

A chuckle rumbled from him. He licked over her clit, easing the sensation, before opening his lips around her. The sparks struck her again.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Her whole body went rigid as her center clenched, as her orgasm surged upward, hit the top, and there was no stopping. The devastating sensations exploded outward like a fireball of pleasure, out of control, consuming everything in its path. She gasped for air as the room went brilliant with light.

After a second, she opened her eyes and—

He licked over her again, and she was so, so sensitive, each light abrasion sent more waves blasting through her, taking her air with it.

“Noooo.” Sweat trickled down her back. Her whole body was trembling. “No more. Pleaaase.”

“You think?” His eyes glinted with pleasure.

As she panted, trying to regain her breath and keep her heart from pounding out of her chest, the ropes came off her wrists and ankles. Her arms flopped to her sides. Someday, maybe in a year, she’d try to move.

Her eyes shot open when hard hands closed around her waist. He picked her up, ignoring her squeak. Once again, he bent her over the arm of the couch. The coarse towel rubbed her mound. A lube packet dropped onto the cushion beside her shoulder.

Oh no. No, no, no.

“Time for my second prize, pet.” He smoothly removed the glass anal plug, leaving her empty inside. She heard a condom wrapper.

She wasn’t ready. Couldn’t think. “Wait. Just…”

To her relief, he pressed into her pussy, filling her. Her insides clenched around his hot, thick shaft as he slid smoothly in and out.

But just as she was starting to really enjoy the sensations, he withdrew. And picked up the lube. A few seconds later, he pulled her buttocks open, and his cock probed her already tender anus.

Oh. Damn.

As he pushed in, her neck arched, bringing her head up. Ow, ow, ow. She attempted to stand.

His hand in the middle of her back kept her right there, positioned for his ruthless advance. “Don’t worry; this won’t hurt…too much.” And his voice was amused—and pleased.

Holy shit.

Slick with lube, he pressed and retreated, gradually working his way in.

Her tight ring of muscle burned and stretched, trying to adjust to his size—he was huge!—and it hurt. Yet, even as he advanced, her whole lower half seemed to flare awake, like the lighting of the giant Christmas tree in San Antonio.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “You can take me.” He forged in, relentless as only the Enforcer could be, doing what he wanted for his own pleasure.

Yet the knowledge he’d cared enough to satisfy her first was intensely erotic.

Cheek rubbing the cushions, she whined and squirmed as he impaled her. His hand on her back held her down, and she whimpered.

She could feel his thighs burn hot against hers. He was all the way in.

“Hurt, baby?” he asked.

“Yessssss.” Her answer came out a moan.

“Perfect.” His laugh was deep and gruff. He controlled her hips with an unyielding grip as he drew back unhurriedly and surged in. Over and over. When he halted and added more lube, the coldness of the liquid around the heat of his shaft made her tremble.

He thrust harder and faster until the slap, slap, slap of skin against skin, and the alternating full-to-empty sensations dominated her world. Dragged her back into need.

Her breathing changed. Her hips tilted up slightly.

And he paused…and chuckled. “Greedy little Texan.”

His boot between her feet pushed her legs so far apart that with every thrust, her clit rubbed the towel. Over and over.

Oh God, oh God. As if caught in a blender, her entire lower half spiraled up and up into soaring pleasure. She mewed, clawing at the cushions, as the world dissolved around her.

“That’s the spirit.” With a rough, guttural growl, deVries plunged into her so deeply she felt his groin grind against her bottom before he released.

***

Sometime later, she realized she was in a blanket, lying on the couch. Dizzy as a drunken coyote. She rose up on an elbow.

On one knee, deVries was cleaning off his equipment and packing it away in his terrifying-looking metal case. He glanced at her, assessed, clasped her shoulders, and moved her to a sitting position.

As he held her there, her world spun for a second before righting. Once her eyes uncrossed, she gave him a nod.

He handed her the glass of water on the coffee table. When had he gotten that? “Drink up, pet.”

Her hand shook only slightly as she took a sip and felt her desert-dry mouth absorb the liquid. She chugged most of the rest.

His lips quirked before he turned back to his packing.

When he was finished, he rose and took her glass to the kitchen. “Need more?”

She shook her head, not finding any words coming to mind. Thank you didn’t seem adequate. Sure, he was here because he wanted to collect on his prize from shooting her during war games; nevertheless, he’d also…well, okay, gifted her with an amazing orgasm with his violet wand toys. And again with anal sex.

He’d hurt her and liked it. But she’d liked it too. How did a person talk to someone she really didn’t know after having been so…intimate in such a strange way?

“First time I’ve ever seen you tongue-tied.” He squatted in front of her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You look befuddled.”

Good word for how she felt.

The living room lamps lightened the green flecks in his gray pupils, turning his eyes the color of a forest mist. She traced her fingers over the sun lines at the corners of his eyes, the strong angle of his jaw, his corded neck. Satisfaction lurked in the heaviness of his lids.

The knowledge she’d pleased him was a low hum in her veins.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” To her surprise, he scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom. He stood her on her feet outside the shower, turned on the water, and waited for it to warm. After setting her inside, he stripped and joined her.

The water felt wonderful on her sweaty body—and stung on a few of the more tender areas, so she turned around.

Oh wow, just look at him. The brighter bathroom lights played over deVries’s body. Totally, devastatingly gorgeous. All muscle. Leaner than a weight lifter, and somehow more dangerous. A purple bruise marred his forearm, mottled black-and-green bruises covered his hip, and above was a row of stitches. “What—”

When she looked up, his gaze was cold. Deadly.

Her mouth closed on the rest of the question.

As if she hadn’t spoken, he squirted some soap into his hand and scrubbed her down.

Eventually the chill disappeared from his eyes, letting her breathe.

When he stroked up her right forearm, he stopped and turned her arm toward the light. The long white-pink scar ran from her elbow to the back of her hand. Another, smaller one was on her left arm. So ugly. All the same, the window glass had cut her arms instead of her face; she wouldn’t complain.

Gray-green eyes narrowed, and his brows rose slightly.

No. She tilted her head toward his bruises and cuts. If he didn’t have to answer, neither did she.

After an uncomfortable moment, he gave her a raised eyebrow of acknowledgment and continued washing. Accepting her reticence.

Her breath eased out. Lying to him, right here, right now, after what they’d shared would have been unbearable.

His silence was a balm after the intensity before. With surprisingly gentle hands, he washed her efficiently, not lingering over anything, and merely the touch of his callused fingers made heat sweep through her.

God, she’d gladly mess around again. What was wrong with her?

But, once finished, he set her outside the shower and handed her a towel. “Go to bed, babe.”

She stared at him, unable to think of what to say. Drops of water glinted in the light furring on his chest, trickled down the line of hair to his cock. Made her want to follow it with her tongue.

His eyes crinkled. “You’re definitely befuddled.” Leaning down, he gave her a light kiss, turned her, and swatted her ass to move her out of the room.

In the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder. He’d stepped back under the water to finish washing. What a strange man. Shaking her head, she donned a T-shirt and pair of panties. Should she wait for him?

Her wobbly legs answered the question by taking her to the bed. Her mama would be horrified at the discourtesy of not seeing a visitor to the door, but deVries was fully capable of letting himself out when he left.

She slid into her bed. The thousand-thread-count, Egyptian cotton sheets whispered sweetly against her sensitized skin as she sank down into the mattress.

A few drowsy minutes later, she watched deVries walk out. Beautifully naked. Holy God in heaven, he was ripped, from the hard curves of his biceps to the deep valleys carved between his pectorals. The line of black stitches above his left hip didn’t seem to affect him, whereas if her flesh had been slashed, she’d consider it an excellent idea to take a pain med, lounge around, and watch TV all day.

Bet the man had never lounged a day in his life.

When he walked past and into the living room, she sighed. He hadn’t said a word. Sure, he’d gotten what he wanted; even so, she’d thought he’d at least say good-bye.

To her surprise, he came back in, dumped his bag and case by the nightstand, and tossed his clothes on top.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting up in the bed.

He ignored her and went back out, returning a few minutes later with the rope restraints from the couch. He tossed them on the pile of clothes. “Almost forgot these. Might have scared your guests.”

She choked at the thought. Not that she’d ever invited anyone here—it wasn’t really her place, after all—but still. “Discovery could be bad. So thanks.”

After he looked around the room, he ran his finger over the silvery silk quilt and cocked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like your style or color, babe.”

She shrugged. What could she say—it wasn’t.

The light from the living room cast shadows on his hard face as he stared down at her. She watched him. Why wasn’t he patting her on the ass and leaving? Everyone said the Enforcer was a fuck-’em and forget-’em sort of guy. To her surprise, he crawled under the covers with her.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. I’m wiped. Not safe to drive.”

“Oh.” Sleep with deVries? She swallowed hard. Before she could figure out how to say I’ll call you a taxi, he rolled her onto her right side and spooned behind her. Her bottom rubbed against his groin. His rock-hard arm over her waist pinned her down as he curved his left hand over her breast.

He wanted to cuddle? The Enforcer? “But—”

“Go to sleep, or you’ll spend the night gagged.”

Well. Yet, even as she searched for the answer to his obnoxious threat, her heart quickened. His gravelly voice alone could carbonate seawater—and when he exerted his will? She simply fizzed.

Unfortunately, all those hot, hot bubbles flowed straight to her pussy. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to still the throbbing. She wanted him again. Criminy, what was wrong with her?

His hand flattened between her breasts, and he snorted. “With a pulse like that, either you’re scared or you’re horny.” He slid his palm over her panties, ascertaining for himself exactly which it was. “Soaked.”

The touch of his firm fingers made her quiver. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Don’t—”

“Shut it.” With pitiless hands, he tossed away the covers and flattened her onto her back. “Just as well. I didn’t get enough of a taste.”

“But—”

The warning in his narrowed eyes froze her vocal cords.

He stripped her panties off, baring her. Pushing her legs apart, he knelt between them. His gaze moved over her opened pussy…looking at her there.

As her cheeks flared with heat, she slid her hands over her mound to cover herself.

“You don’t wear underwear if you’re with me,” he growled. “And you don’t withhold something I want.” Ruthlessly he positioned her fingers to keep her labia open.

“What are you—”

“You put your hands down here, I use them.” He nudged her fingers outward, forcing her to hold her folds more widely apart. “Hold yourself open for me, and don’t move.”

“But—”

“And don’t speak.” He licked over her, his tongue stopping to wiggle right on top of her clit.

So wet. So hot. Her back arched as heat blossomed in her core.

He watched her with a slight smile. “Screaming is okay.”

Propped up on one elbow, sprawled between her legs, he lowered his head. His tongue worked her hard and fast, impossibly effective with her clit so totally exposed. With his free hand, he slid two fingers inside her, thrusting rhythmically—hard and fast.

Her pussy clamped down on him, and he laughed, closed his lips around her clit, and sucked.

Good thing he’d given her permission to scream.