Which was how he knew she was not sleeping.

"What now?" she muttered dampingly.

His erection did not die. If anything, the sight of her quiescent body and lush curves aroused him all the more.

"Well, my fawn, you've gotten a taste of what it feels like to have a man's hand inside you. Now I thought I'd like a taste of you."

His words put her in a panic. "No. No.No!"

"Nowhat,my wife who is never to refuse me anything…?" His voice was silky, soft. Iron.

"I can't take this, Court." Was she throwing herself on his mercy? Maybe so, buthe was the torturer, not she. If only, only, only he would do his duty… they could dispense with the games and start to live their separate lives.

She could make do with that, shecould…

She shrieked."What are you doing?!!" as he lifted her onto her knees and began rubbing something onto her protruding sex.

"Making myself a tasty treat, my fawn…"

She moaned.Oh, Lord, the feeling of his fingers massaging something thick and sticky into her like that, all around her naked cleft was almost more than she could bear.

"You like that," he murmured.

She made a guttural sound at the back of her throat. "I don't like anything." Her body contradicted her immediately, undulating seductively against his swirling fingers.

"You'll like this." No, heliked this, the feel of her compressed woman flesh against his fingers as he swirled honey all around it.

"What are youdoing?!!"

"I'm coating you with honey before I sip from your cup…"

Omigod, omigod, omigod… She pulled, she wrenched, she kicked, she writhed and she couldn't get away from him or the inexorable touch of his rubbing fingers.

Bear it… just let him get it over with and bear it…

But she was doing more than bearing it. She was inviting it, and against every feeling she had about him.

She hated herself. She hated her naked body. She hated him…

"Ahhh," he growled. "And now…"

"And now?" she whispered fearfully.

"… I eat my sweet treat…"

And she couldn't escape. Where before he had held her middle with his iron-bar arm, now he relinquished her, and straddled her hips, pulling her onto her knees again.

"Now…" he groaned, and bent over her. And took her with one long luscious swipe of his tongue against her pulsing, swelling sex.

Omigod… omigod… was there ever a more relentless mouth… She fought him, she enticed him, she couldn't get away from him and his determination to lick and suck every last drop of honey from between her legs.

Her body stretched and pushed and begged; the leather pulled, shaped, contoured her woman flesh to give him the utmost access to her. Again and again, he inserted his tongue into her cleft, seeking the taste ofher.

For one unsettling moment, she felt as if she were solely connected to him, just there, just like that. Her knees went weak and almost boneless from the sheer insensate pleasure of it.

He took it all and she was helpless to stop him, utterly without control, totally in his power to give her that with his succulent carnal kisses.

There, and there, and there…

There was something too decadent, too erotic, and too dark about all those deep tongue-tied kisses.

As if he thought they could make her want him.

No, she could never never want him. But she could learn to live with and yearn for those unspeakable sensations he evoked in her.

She could learn to spread her legs for him whenever he commanded her.

She could learn to be the best whore and wife in the whole of St. Faubonne Parish.

But want him? Love him? No.Never.

Never…

Her nerve endings quivered and her body quickened as his tongue caught the edge of her shimmering pleasure.

…ever…

What was he doing? What was he doing?

Her body jolted as he touched some sacred secret part of her she did not know existed

…ever

and she slid downward into that dark erotic place and tumbled headlong into a waterfall of silver that broke ever so gently over his tongue.

Ripe… ready… and resisting him already

He held her hips tightly as he pushed against her, pulling every nuance of sensation from her body before he let her pull away.

And pull she did. As if she couldn't get away from him fast enough. What more could be said?

Thathe wasn't sated? Not nearly.

That this was her first brush with carnal pleasure? So likely.

That now she would offer herself willingly? Not hardly.

He made a disgusted sound and eased away from her tempting flesh. It was all he could do to keep himself from plunging into her.

She was there for the taking, her bottom tilted at exactly the angle to accommodate his roaring man flesh.

All he had to do…

All he had to do

"Take me," she whispered, hoping against hope as she sensed his agonized indecision and eyed his towering erection.

"I think not, my fawn. I think the taste of you will sate me and prepare me for another day," he murmured, clenching his hands into fists to keep from running them all over her rounded buttocks.

Instead, he forced himself to climb over her and off of the bed.

"Such a pretty sight, my fawn, in the aftermath of your pleasure."

"Is that what it was?" she muttered, unable to keep the thread of sarcasm out of her voice.

"I see," he said stonily, his body flinching at the thought she might have experienced this already, with Lenoir. He hadn't even considered thatthat Lenoir might have tutored her inall the earthly delights save onebecause he had been too caught up in the heady discovery that she was still a virgin.

So there was still much for her to learnand for him, he could see that now. A man could take nothing for granted, especially when his penis was aching for release and leading him around by the nose.

"What do you see?" she demanded, alerted instantly by that tone in his voice. That tone meant his displeasure. And that he would prolong the inevitable.

She shuddered. She didn't know why she kept taunting him like that. It would only take that one moment of acquiescence to give him what he said he wanted. An actress could do it. A whore.

Surely she, even in her innocence…

Not so innocent now

Her breath caught.She knew pleasure now.

She knew the pleasure of feeling something between her legs.

She knew a man's carnal kiss.

She knew the power of a woman's nudity.

Innocent no more…

She felt as if he were reading everything in her eyes. "What do you see?" she asked again, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

"A scared little fawn," he said, his voice deceptively soft. "A fawn who is still hiding from her fate."

She made a sound. She wondered how far she could push him. She wondered if she wanted to try. "And you're a man denying his. Look at you. You'd rather walk around with that pole sticking out than stick it into me. So either you're a coward, you don't want to for some reason, or maybemaybe your heart and mind are on someone else, too…"

She faltered at the expression in his eyes.Oh, God… did I really say that to him? What is wrongwith me?

He could feel himself turning stone cold.

Little bitch. Who could have dreamt the fawn's teeth were so sharp? Goddamn whore witch bitch…

… he felt like showing her. He felt like jamming into her tight, wet cleft just to shut her taunting mouth. He felt like ramrodding his way right to the mouth of her womb and blasting his seed into the very core of her.

But… but

He wanted her prostrate. He wanted her shuddering with need. He wanted her crawling, at his feet, begging him for what he alone could do to her.

Until she learned that lesson, there wasn't a thing in the world she could do to tempt him.

And he'd keep his unruly penis at bay as well; and she would never know what that restraint cost him.

Her body betrayed her. During the night, as she restlessly tossed and turned, she felt herself stretching toward the phantom lover who had pulled such pleasure from her body.

Him!

Never him…

How could she forgive him for all he had done?

Done? Done? What have I done, he would say. I've admired you. I've been patient with you. I haven't forced myself on you. And I've given you pleasure. Tell me what I've "done"…

She moaned and rolled over again. She could write a litany of what he'ddone, and none of it would make sense; no one would believe it.

Gerard would believe it…

She choked back a groan.Dear darling Gerard… if he knew that monster kept her naked, kept her in restraints when it suited him, made her wear a thrall collar, forced her to display her sex for him, licked honey from her vessel, and made her writhe with pleasure… what would he do? What could he do?

How did it sound?

Insane.

How did she sound?

Ungrateful.

GodWHAT?!! Ungrateful?!

She sat bolt upright, her body covered with a fine sheen of sweatfrom the unremitting thick sultry heat, or from her thoughts, desires, dreams?

She didn't want to know, didn't want to think. The collar, the straps, irritated her skin, as she supposed they were meant to do, to remind her of who owned her, and to whom she was beholden.

She swung her legs over the bed and sat for a moment, contemplating the moonlight filtering in through the window.

She could jump out the window and be beholden no more.

… ungrateful!!…

She wrapped her arms around her midriff.

The heat was suffocating. And there wasn't a window open anywhere except the transom between the bathing room and the hallway.

He trusted her not.

She didn't even trust herself.

…ungrateful!!!… that he had given her pleasure and made her feel like a trussed-up turkey… Oh, no, she wasn't going to give in to that; the pleasure was not going to supersede the indignity.

She wouldn't let it.

No matter how it sounded.

To her.

To Gerard…

She fell on her back.If only he had taken me…

If only he would come nowand get it over with…

He couldn't take much more of this. Or maybe he could, if he found a willing body to poke while he waited for his high-and-mighty wife to come around.

Plenty of willing bodies between St. Faubonne and New Orleanshe could just see them, sassy, saucy vixens beckoning in the night, never hesitant to slide a hand up a man's pole to gauge the worth of what they had to sell.

He could settle for that, he could. A little sport, a quick spurt to relieve the tension and the ache, a wink and a kiss and he could be out the door, and nobody hurt.

But nobody with nipples like hers…

nobody as naked and luscious-tasting as her…

… nobody

Hell.

Maybe he'd have her for breakfast, he was that ravenous to possess her.

Maybe not, he thought, as he caught the expression on her face as Evie escorted her into the room.

A man couldn't ease up for a moment.

"Sit there," he ordered, pointing to an upholstered rectangular bench. "Straddle it. Eviebring over the little table, let her eat something, thank you."

"And coffee, Master Court?"

"Yes, thank you. Stay by for a moment, please."

"I'm not hungry," Drue said. "I want this damned collar off my neck."

"Eat, little fawn, you need your strength."

"I need an open window, a fan, and some clothes," she said in a petulant tone.

"She won't learn, will she," Court muttered, taking a biscuit and slathering it with butter and jam. "Well, I need to keep up my strength, little fawn. You almost sap the life out of me with your stubbornness."

"I hope so," she hissed.

"But not quite. As you can plainly see."

She saw. His whole body had bolted to life the moment she appeared on the threshold. And it just kept getting longer and stronger and harder as she stared at it.

An amazing thing

She bit into a biscuit with a ferocity that made him quiver.

Interesting…

He sipped his coffee and pretended nothing had happened.

They could be any couple sharing breakfast, except that she was naked, wearing a thrall collar, and sat across a bench with her legs spread and her husband's eyes devouring her as greedily as he did his food.