He stood and caught both her hands, imprisoned them behind her back and forced her body against his, her tight little nipples abrading against the cotton of his T-shirt. "That wasn't evil. This..." He captured her mouth in a quick, brutally tender kiss. "This isn't evil, either."

She looked up at him, aware of her nakedness and his full state of dress, his aura of command.

He knelt and easily slid both fingers back inside her.

She moved then, her body betraying her mind. She spread her legs to accommodate him.

"Shall I do you like this till you scream?"

He gave her no time for an answer.

"I think that's what you'll do. Scream. You're not one for a quiet climax are you?"

Not gently, he parted her labia then moved forward and captured her clit between his teeth.

Oh God, how long since a man had eaten her pussy?

Deliberately this man was undoing her resistance, with his combination of pain that brought her to the brink of tormented pleasure.

He licked her, he nipped at her. She started to whimper. Then he pressed his tongue against her. She jerked her hips. She moaned. Her soft little sounds grew louder as he finger- fucked her in addition to licking and sucking.

She curled her hands into the thick locks of his hair, dragging his head closer. She was so close, almost there...almost. "I want to come," she admitted.

"And I want you to beg for it," he said, words muffled by her heated flesh.

He pulled back and removed one finger from her pussy. She felt him move the moist finger backwards so that he was probing against the entrance to her arse. She'd never done this before, but...yes...

"Tell me.Tell me you want my finger in that tight little hole. Beg me to finger-fuck both holes."

"Quinn. I can't."

He continued to torment her just a little, not enough to get her off.

She jerked her hips in response to his finger, his mouth, his tongue. Oh God, his tongue...

Then he stopped."Beg."

Her body felt like a tightly-strung instrument. "Yes," she said. "Yes. Please."

"Beg," he repeated.

"Please finger-fuck me, Quinn."

She'd never used such graphic language before. But with him, it didn't embarrass her. "Please..."

"The words, Sinead. I want to hear the words."

"Please finger-fuck me."

"Not just my cunt, but my arse."

Hot colour chased up her cheeks. "Finger-fuck my cunt, my arse."

"And your clit, Sinead? What do you want me to do with your clit?"

"Lick it, suck it."

"Tell me it all."

"I want..." She cleared her throat. She was a performer. She'd been on stage since the age of five. She knew how to step out of reality and into an alternate place. This was really no different, despite the fact it was her enemy kneeling in front of her, his masterful mouth only a breath away from her most intimate place. "Please, Quinn. Finger-fuck my cunt and my arse while you lick my clit."

"Do not come without permission," he told her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's how things will be, Sinead. We'll be using clamps. I'll tie you up. In the bedroom, hellcat, you'll be mine. If you're very good, I'll let you climax. But never, and make no mistake about this, without permission. If you come without my approval, it'll be a long, long time before you're allowed another one."

She was barely able to think. In spite of his sensual but harsh words, he hadn't stopped touching her. And Lord help her, she didn't want to make him stop. An orgasm churned deep inside, and she wanted the release it would bring.

Earlier, on the bidet, she'd had a tiny release, nothing compared to what he'd given her a while ago while he tormented her nipples. But even that, she knew, would be tame compared to what was building now. Every muscle and sinew felt stretched tight, demanding satisfaction. "I'm not sure what kind of women you've dealt with before," she told him, "but I'm not one of the simpering villagers where you rule like lord and master. You can't tie me up or force me to beg for your sexual favours."

"Oh, aye, lass, I can. And you'll do it of your own free will. You'll crawl to me with bindings in your teeth and you'll drop them at my feet and beg me to secure you to a punishment bench."

"Punishment bench?" Was he serious? He couldn't make this up, could he? "You sound positively medieval."

"Quite the contrary. My punishment bench is modern. The hooks are brand new."

"I'll see you in hell first." But because the picture he painted was so close to her own fantasies, she shivered.

"Love, you'll be happy to make the trip."

Brutally he slapped her cunt.

She gasped. She was horrified, not just because of his vicious act, but because she was so incredibly wet.

"Do you like that?" he asked.

"Not on your life."

"Your mouth tells one story," he said. "Your body tells another. You were made for me, Sinead, for my mastery. For my lash. Come without permission and you'll feel the wrath of my belt across your arse cheeks."

Oh God. Had it been less than an hour since she'd imagined herself across a man's lap, his hand falling repeatedly on her naked buttocks? Had he used magic to read her mind? Or did he truly mean it?

She told herself she needed to end this immediately, get out of here, maybe call the police. But her feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. Instead of turning away, she rose onto her tiptoes, wordlessly seeking more. She had no idea what was happening to her, why she was responding so completely.

He nipped at her clit and she squealed. "No coming without permission," he reminded her. "Do you understand?"

She was still reeling from the smart smack to her swollen vulva. Her entire being throbbed with need. It would take him thirty seconds, maybe less, to make her shatter. "I'd rather crawl through molten rocks."

He laughed, and the vibration only stimulated her. "My rules. My way. Yield now or I'll leave you on the edge."

Bastard that he was, she knew he'd do just that. If she were a stronger person, she'd shove him away, put on her clothes, and figure out another way to escape. But with him on his knees, his mouth right there, she was not only willing, she was weak. Damn him, she didn't want him to stop.

"Shall I continue, Sinead? Shall I give you the orgasm of your life?"

Her breasts were full, her nipples had swollen. Her breathing was laboured.

"It's your choice entirely."

"Make me come," she ordered.

"What happens if you come without permission?"

"A spanking." She rolled her eyes even as she wondered what that would feel like.

"One you won't forget," he said. "Take your hands out of my hair and place them behind you. Cross your wrists at the small of your back. Pretend they're secured, and don't move them. We'll consider that you're tied by my will."

"You've lost your senses."

"Five seconds to comply, wench."

She shuddered. She knew he meant it, and damn it, the rush of heat between her legs told her that her mind was rebellious, but her wanton body wasn't.

Slowly she disentangled her hands from his hair and obediently did as she'd been told.

"Stick out your chest just a little more to arch your back. That'll give me greater access to your hot little cunt."

Feeling humiliated, she did exactly what he ordered.

"I forgot what you wanted."

Liar.

"Tell me again, in detail."

"Please, Quinn," she said, "I want to come." As she spoke, he started to move, rewarding each word with a tender stroke. "I want you to finger-fuck my cunt..."

He moved a finger slowly inside her, as he might thrust his cock. That was enough, she knew, to bring her off, given enough time.

"And my arse," she whispered, desperate to wrap her hands around his head for support.

"Anal virgin?" he asked.

"Yes," she confessed. "A bit nervous."

"We'll go slow. And when we're home, I'll give you some time to adjust to wearing a plug."

She might have protested if she could have found her voice. But she knew there'd be plenty of time for arguing later.

She felt his finger begin to press into her anus.

"Tell me what else," he said.

"Lick my pussy. Lick it good."

"How much pressure against your clit?"

She couldn't believe they were having this conversation. It was simultaneously erotic and mortifying. "A lot. "I sometimes can't..."

"When you masturbate?"

"Yes. I have trouble..." He pressed his tongue against her-hard-as he shoved his finger inside her rectum.

Sensations assaulted her, feeling as if they came from the inside out. She was delirious with desire. One of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen, was licking and sucking her cunt, fingering both holes while she panted.

She rocked back and forth, thrusting her pelvis forward, shamelessly demanding he give her more. He responded perfectly, as if intuitively reading her body's needs.

The sensations built and built to a primal crescendo.

She was on the balls of her feet. She wanted to reach for him, but she recalled his words, that she was tied by his will. For reasons beyond her, she wanted to please him as much as he was pleasing her. He wanted her hands behind her back. She'd keep them there. "Quinn!" She remembered, barely. "Please," she said. "Please. I want to come. I need to come."

He didn't respond. Instead, he continued to eat her, lick her. He moved the finger inside her arse.

She was helpless, undone. "I'm begging. Begging. Let me come, Quinn."

He murmured something that she prayed was assent.

Screaming like the Banshee herself, she came, hard.

She was unable to keep her balance, despite the fact he moved his shoulders forward to support her thighs. Her toes sought purchase in the carpeting, but it wasn't enough. Defying his order, she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward, grinding her cunt shamelessly against his face.

He continued to lick, to suck, to fuck until the last shudder passed.

Her knees felt weak, and she couldn't draw a breath all the way into her lungs.

As if in slow motion, he moved, gathering her into his arms, sweeping her from the ground and carrying her to the bed. He placed her there, on the side opposite the suitcase.

Now that the ordeal was over, she felt vulnerable in her nakedness. She reached for the robe, but couldn't quite curl her listless fingers around it.

He left her, and she heard water running He returned less than a minute later with a warm, damp flannel that he placed between her legs.

She had never had a man tend her like this, and she liked it.

All fight had left her, even though she knew he was a Quinn. Now that she'd had a world-class orgasm, the sweat on her body began to cool.

He moved the piece of luggage onto a nearby chair then toed off his boots and sat on the edge of the bed.

She eyed him warily.