Watching her there, eyes closed, breath steady, completely submitting to me, I have to put my hands on her for no other reason than to convince myself she’s real.

I sit at the edge of the bed, my gaze tethered to her. My weight shifts the mattress enough to alert her to my presence, but she doesn’t move. Fucking beautiful. I never knew how badly I needed this, needed her, until right now.

I flex my fists, wanting so badly to ravage her, force myself on her, tie her up, and make her scream. My urge to protect her wars against the images, pushing them back and locking them away.

She deserves a better man, one who can stare at her lying topless without fighting off a million different visions of debasement. What would I do to be that man? Tackle my issues, work on freeing myself of them? I can do that. I think.

With a deep breath, I refocus on her. A gothic halo of black hair is splayed around her face, and cherry-red lips part with the strength of her breathing. A pale pink flush colors her neck. Her legs shift, rubbing together like she’s putting out a fire between them.

Fuck, I haven’t even touched her, and she’s turned on. Submitting to me, lying in offering like this, she likes it.

Infused with a new kind of power, I brave a touch and reach out to trace the circle of her belly button. A whispered gasp of pleasure falls from her lips. I run my fingertip around and around in teasing circles; her skin so soft it feels as if I’m caressing air.

Her hips lift from the bed, searching for more contact.

I pull back my hand. “No.”

A defeated sigh pours from her lips, and she relaxes back to the bed.

“That’s good.” I return my fingers to her skin, this time at the underside of her breasts to reward her obedience. “You like me touching you.”

“Yes.” Her one word shakes with impatience and tension, cranking up my arousal.

Taking a deep breath and trying to stay in the moment, I move my finger, eating up her sweet flesh inch by inch until I’m between her breasts. Entranced, I trace around them in circles, one before the other. She responds to even the most innocent touch, and her chest rises and falls faster. I bite back a smug grin. The power is intoxicating.

Freeing.

Addicting.

Moving from the side of her breast, I drag my finger to her nipple and circle there, just as I did with her belly button. Her back arches off the bed, and she groans with such need and so wantonly that my dick presses painfully against my zipper.

A few more passes and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and groans. I inch closer, leaning over her so that my mouth is just a breath away from hers.

“Give it to me.” I drag my piercing along the seam of her mouth and a tiny gasp releases her lip. So fucking hot. “It’s mine.” I nip at her lip that’s now a deeper shade of red from her biting it. “Let me explore you.”

Her body convulses in a shiver that throws off more sexual energy than anything I’ve ever experienced. “Please.”

I drop my lips to hers and groan into her welcoming mouth. Fuck, I love when she begs. The voice in my head says I’m sick for enjoying her weakness, but I ignore it. With the heavy weight of her breast in my hand, I slide my tongue into her mouth. The honeyed taste of her pushes me deeper, searching for more. I suck her tongue, nip at her lips, and take everything I can. Her head tilts to accommodate my pillage, and I take everything she offers with gluttonous satisfaction.

The thunderous crack of my heart behind my ribs rockets adrenaline through my veins. Everything about this is new, and my mind races to keep up. I pull my torso over hers at an angle, resting my weight on my elbow while my free hand memorizes the feel of her curves. I push my hand lower, from the dip of her belly to the flare of her hips.

A whimper rolls from her throat. I pull back and notice she’s white-knuckling the comforter.

“Open your eyes.”

She does and I have to hold back my reaction at seeing the war waging behind them. What’s she thinking?

“Talk to me.”

“I want to touch you.”

I check her hands again, still gripped tight to the bed cover. “Yeah? Does it hurt?”

“Yes.” Her voice cracks.

I’m rock hard with power. Knowing that I’m torturing her in some way feels so good it makes me light-headed. Her wanting to touch me so badly that it’s causing her discomfort is turning me on and making me forget. But her hurting with a need so deep that she’d deny herself the relief in order to please me? She’s giving me ultimate supremacy, and fuck if that doesn’t make me want to give her everything.

My head spins with the weight of it all. I beat back the confusion and give myself permission to feel, to live in the moment and suck all the good I can from it before I lose it.

Pushing myself up, I throw a leg over her tiny body, straddling her at the hips. Her eyes flare. Towering over her, she looks so small, helpless, and absolutely stunning.

I reach back and tug my shirt over my head, tossing it to the ground beside the bed. Her arms jerk, but she doesn’t release her hands.

“Good girl.” I take a moment, noticing that the pale skin of her chest is now pink; her breasts jump with every hiccupped breath. But even through all this, she obeys and stays still. “Thank you for giving me this.”

She nods with a few quick bounces of her head, but her eyes don’t meet mine. They’re on my chest, moving between my piercings before dropping down to my abs. I watch her eyes as they devour my body, and a frantic desire blazes beneath my skin.

I need to feel her on me. All over me.

“Give me your hand.” I hold my hand just inches from her fist, giving her the choice to obey.

She places it in mine, and the moisture on her palm is the evidence of her suffering. I smile and bring it to my lips, placing a kiss against her clammy skin. Unable to deny myself her taste for a second longer, I drag my tongue from the heel of her palm to her middle finger and up the pads before slipping the tip into my mouth. My eyes fight to stay open against the salty taste that floods my senses. She groans and circles her hips, grinding into my ass. Fuck, but her writhing body below me, held down by my weight, is so damn hot.

Kissing the pad of her finger, I pull her hand down, controlling the slow pace of her touch against my neck, my clavicle, and finally my chest over the crashing throb of my heart. I release her hand to give her back control.

She studies my expression, asking for permission. I nod, suck in a deep breath, and hold it. Waiting.

Finally, after what seems like forever, she moves. Her touch glides along my pecs, alternating between tracing the pattern of my tattoos and marking her own path. Some passes are gentle and others she allows her nails to drag, raising goose bumps on my arms. Her fingers close around the barbell of my nipple and tug. I groan and drop my head. She tugs again.

Harder. Make it hurt.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but in an effort to keep things a few steps shy of perverted, I lock them down. We’ve come so far, and telling her that I want her to hurt me will destroy the progress we’ve made.

Once she’s thoroughly explored my chest, she lays her hand back down on the bed as if she’s waiting for the next command.

Hope flares in my chest. She’s making this so easy. For the first time I feel . . . normal. I could get used to this.

I push up on my knees and shimmy down her body. “Don’t forget to speak up.” She nods, understanding from last time that if I’m going beyond her comfort zone she needs to let me know.

I hook the elastic waistband of her pants and pull them down. She lifts her ass and holds up one leg at a time until she’s lying in nothing but a pair of lace panties.

“Black. My favorite color.” I run my knuckles up the inside of her thigh and allow my fingers to rest between her legs. “As pretty as these are, baby.”—I pass my knuckles up, down, and up again—“I’m thinking what’s underneath is much prettier.”

She bites her lip and presses against my hand.

“Good girl.” I tug her panties down her thighs and get my first full visual of her completely naked. The air rushes out of my lungs, and I blink against the assaulting wave of arousal that hits me hard. “Fuckin’ look at you.”

Her bare pale skin beckons my touch. I run my hands from her ankles to her thighs, reading her resulting goose bumps like Braille. I record to memory the places I touch that make her tense and the others that make her melt into the bed.

My mouth waters, a familiar feeling when I hook up with a chick, but this time it’s not the nausea-accompanied saliva that rushes to my mouth. This is hunger, pure, simple, animalistic starvation.

I pull her leg up and rest it against my shoulder, exposing her completely. She moans drops her head to the side. A low rolling growl rumbles in my chest, and I lick my lips. Everything about her from the tips of her hair to her toes is so damn gorgeous. “I was right. Beautiful.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “Thank you,” she says in a reverent and sincere whisper.

I kiss the inside of her calf once, twice, and then move to her inner thigh. She squirms and arches her back off the bed.

“Easy, baby.” My fingers dig in to the flesh of her hip holding her down.

She groans, seeming frustrated, but nods, again, suffering for my pleasure. It makes me wonder what else she’d do for me, what lengths she’d go to if she knew it’d make me happy.

My mind whirls with visions, our bodies slamming together, violent crashes of skin on skin. I pinch my eyes closed, pushing back the thoughts and pulling in the peace. I won’t do that to her. I’m in control. I’m in total control.

I open my eyes to find her staring up at me, waiting.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” I continue to caress her skin and move further down until my shoulders lie between her thighs. “More than good.”

Hooking her other leg over my shoulder, I dip down and run my mouth back and forth against her. Her heels dig into my back and she lifts herself to me in offering.

I push her hips back down onto the bed. “Still.”

She relaxes and her legs fall open. I dip forward, take the first taste and groan in satisfaction.

Her legs clamp tight around my shoulders. “Oh my . . .”

“Shhhh . . .” My breath against her smooth, wet flesh makes her shiver. I smile and use the flat part of my tongue to put pressure where she needs it most.

I devour her, making sure to feel her against my lips, raking my piercing against her sensitive skin, and enjoying the soft sounds that fall from her lips. More, deeper, I lift her hips to angle her body just right.

A surge of desire rockets through my veins. My eyes drop closed, and I imagine the warm silk on my tongue wrapped around my dick as I plunge into her body. I use my lip ring again, over and over against her until she’s writhing.

She moans and her stomach muscles contract. I’m in control, and yet it’s me who’s being tortured. So close, but not nearly close enough.

Her body reacts to every flick of my tongue and her chest jumps with rushed breath, every response driving away my demons. One more kiss to her aroused flesh and I pull back. She whimpers her protest. I pull a condom from my back pocket and pop the button on my pants.

She moans and throws her forearm over her eyes.

“Mac, baby, look at me.”

She drops her arm and meets my stare.

“I want you to watch.” It’s sick, controlling, and pushy, but I need to feel her eyes on me and stay locked in the hunger. I drown in her anticipation, the longing, desire; it keeps me focused on us and not on the shit that I’m fighting to keep in the dark.

I unzip my pants and push them down low enough to expose what she does to me. Keeping my eyes on her, I rip open the condom wrapper with my teeth and slowly sheath myself. Inch by inch I watch in fascination at Mac’s eyes on me. Want turns to need, and need turns to desperation.

With my dick in my hand, I stroke and she licks her lips. “Turn over.”

Her eyes dart from my hips to my face and her eyebrows pinch together. “But I want to see you.”

I’ve never done it face to face. I’m sure I could, eventually, but things are going so well I’m nervous to try something new. “Mac . . .”

“Please. I . . . it’s important to me.” She slides back and pushes up to her knees so that her position matches mine only a foot away. “I’ll keep my hands to myself or not talk, whatever you want, just . . . give me this?”