"Then let me show you what I want from you. You can start by spreading your knees."

She did as he asked. Completely exposed to him, she was wide open and waiting. Heat pooled between her legs as she grew wetter with anticipation.

The next thing she knew he was on the floor, sliding under her. His hands were on her thighs and his face was between her legs. "You're going down on me like this?"

He shook his head, his thumbs digging into her thighs. "I'm not going down on you. You're going to fuck my face."

A white-hot bolt of lightning streaked through her body. Desire burned in her veins as she positioned herself over him, straddling his face, watching the dark and hungry look in his eyes.

"It's all you now, Casey. Hump my face. Go to town. Have a field day on me," he said, and her nipples pebbled as sensations that she'd never felt before raced through her bones. He hadn't even touched her yet, but his words and his breath so close to the center of her world had her skin sizzling.

He grasped her legs tightly, and even though she was on top of him, he had all the control, with her hands bound, and her knees spread. There was nothing left to do but ride his face into blissful oblivion.

"Go fucking wild and let go. Come on my face," he told her.

She lowered herself the final few inches and his tongue darted out, so eager to taste her. He moaned loudly when they made contact, her sounds and his murmurs sending jolts through her body. She rocked against him, pleasure igniting in her core as his tongue and lips worked their magic across her wet folds. Moving her hips, picking up the pace, she gave in to all that she felt with them, to the pleasure that pounded through her blood, to the electric desire that thrummed in her core. To the wildness of this kind of contact.

That word flashed through her brain.

Wild.

She felt wild with him. Wild and free and reckless as she rocked into his face, grinding, pushing, thrusting. Having a field day. Humping him. Fucking him. Riding him for dear life, holding on with her thighs until her belly tightened, and she felt the first tremor of possibility.

Her orgasm wasn't far off. She was so worked up already from what he'd done to her at the auction, from the way he'd talked to her in the room, and simply from the way he treasured her, even when he was a filthy, commanding, controlling fucker.

Maybe even especially then. She loved that dirty side of him as much as she loved the tender side.

"It feels soooo good," she cried out as she rocked harder and faster into him. She might have had all her weight on him. She was sitting on his face, after all. But that was what he wanted, and she wanted it too. To ride him to bliss; to come undone as he lay on the floor, prone beneath her.

The sound of a zipper being worked open landed in her ears. She turned her head as she kept up her frantic pace. Her breath caught in her chest. He'd undone his pants with one hand and was stroking his cock. "That's so fucking sexy," she said, the pressure in her center skyrocketing as she witnessed how utterly turned on he was. He was so goddamn aroused he had to touch himself. "Have you done that before while thinking of me?"

Somehow, he managed a nod. And that information launched her off the cliff.

The vision of him fucking his own fist while she rode his face was as hot as anything ever was. Screw submission. Screw control. Nate was right. Great sex was two people who clawed at each other, who tore off clothes, who had to have each other. He licked and kissed her with such passion and desire that she had no choice but to do as he'd told her-to go wild and let go.

"Everything is so good with you. Everything," she shouted, as she gripped the wood tighter, her fingers curling around the slats, holding on hard as she thrust into his face, riding into a kaleidoscope of neon and color and chaotic bliss, chanting his name over and over.

Her legs shook, her heart beat at a million miles, and she shuddered from the aftershocks that rippled through her.

She wanted to sink onto him, to fall to the floor, to simply bask in the glow of this epic orgasm he had wrought from her as the world slowly slipped back into focus, only better, brighter, more beautiful.

But he had other plans, because he'd slid out from under her to stand up and skim down his pants. Turning her gaze over her shoulder, she drew a sharp breath at the sight of his hard cock, ready and throbbing. He brought his hand back down to his dick, stroking it.

"I need you," he gritted out. "I fucking need you so much."

Then his hands were on her backside, and he yanked her up on her feet. Her hands remained bound on the chair, so she was bent at the waist. He positioned himself between her legs, and dragged the head of his cock through her wetness, drawing another cry from deep inside her chest. She flattened her back, lifting up her ass, giving him all the access he'd need.

But then his palm came down hard on her rear, sending a sting through her from the surprise.

"Ow," she cried out.

"You know you loved it," he said, as he bent over the chair and untied her from the slats. He kept her wrists bound together, and picked her up, carrying her to the bed a few feet away. He gently laid her down on her back, then lifted her arms above her head, rearranging her on the bed into the pose she'd been in at the auction house.

She didn't wait for directions from him. She knew what she wanted. Him inside her. She spread her legs.

"Oh fuck, Casey. You can't do that to me," he said as he stared at her hot center.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not taking you like that yet. I'm saving that," he said, then promptly flipped her over onto her stomach in one swift move. She started to prop herself up on elbows and knees, figuring he wanted her on all fours.

But instead, he gently pressed his hand on her lower back pushing her down. "This is how I want you," he murmured.

He climbed over her, pressing his thumbs on the inside of her thighs, opening her up again. Bound, flat on her belly, legs spread, she was his for the taking. He covered her with his strong body. His skin was hot, and the soft hair on his chest tickled her spine. His erection was nestled between her cheeks, and for a second, maybe more, she wondered if he might go there, and claim her ass. She wasn't sure if she wanted that. Maybe someday, but not yet. She was about to voice her protest when she felt him guiding his cock lower, away from her ass, teasing her heat with the tip.

"Please," she said, so eager to have him fill her. She longed desperately for penetration, for that glorious moment when he buried himself all the way in her.

"Please what?"

"Please, Nate. I need you inside me. I'm dying to feel you."

He wrapped an arm around her chest, one hand cupping her breast, rubbing her hard nipple. "God, Casey. You are my weakness. I can't deny you a fucking thing. You say one word and I give it to you."

He sank into her, and she soared. She flew. She rocketed into a whole new dimension of bliss and sensual joy as he stroked into her.

Their sounds mingled-their sighs, and moans and pants collided in some kind of sinfully sexy melody of coming togetherness. He moved inside her, taking long, luxurious strokes as his fingertips grazed her nipples, and he held her tight, imprisoning her with his body.

She arched into him, matching his thrusts. He angled his mouth against her neck, kissing her there, working his way up to her ear as he swiveled his hips, then paused, making her want him even more before he answered her body's prayer and drove into her.

His hand came down hard on her chin, gripping her. He turned her face, so she was even closer to him. Her body sang out in response, wetness coating him. "Do you feel that? How wet you get with me?"

"Yes."

"I can feel you all over my cock. I can feel you when you get more aroused. Your pussy gets so hot, and you grip my dick, and then I slide in even more," he said, in a harsh whisper in her ear. As if on command, she felt that rush of heat swoop from her belly straight between her legs. "Like that," he groaned. "Just like that. God, I love it, Casey. I fucking love everything about this." He picked up speed, fucking her harder and faster, his hand on her chin, his other hand still gripping her breast. She could barely move, and she didn't want to. All she wanted was this possession, this complete and utter possession.

"Me too. No one has ever made me feel this way," she managed to say in between her pants and moans.

"How do I make you feel?" he asked, raising up, and then slamming back into her.

She searched for the words; she felt them on the tip of her tongue. She knew what she was hunting for, but she was afraid to say it, so she managed something close enough. "Like you can't get enough of me," she answered, looking up at him, even from this position. His eyes blazed at her; they were full of such passion. She was caught in a tractor beam of intensity.

"I can't get enough of you," he said, so raw and hoarse as he ran his finger over her mouth, brushing it along the inside of her bottom lip. She nibbled on his finger then opened her mouth to lead him in. He slid his finger between her lips. She eagerly took it, sucking, swirling, loving on his finger as if she were sucking him off while he pushed deeper into her pussy. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to be with you?"

"How long?" she asked as he simulated fucking her mouth.

He moved his mouth to her ear. "I've wanted you so fucking much. For so fucking long," he whispered, and it was a confession. A complete and utter confession that shocked her to the bone then sent a glorious burst of pleasure down her spine and straight to her core.

"Nate," she moaned. "I need you to untie me. Flip me over, and make love to me like that."

In seconds, he'd freed her hands from his shirt, and turned her over, missionary style. He slipped out of her in the process, and she sat up, reaching for his erection, sliding him home again as she lay back on the mattress, raising her knees to clamp them on his hips.

She was free now. Free to touch him. To hold him. To run her fingers across his skin. "Sometimes, I need to have my hands on you too," she said softly as he returned to that lingering pace, that slow and sensual rhythm that drove her just to the brink, but not quite over.

"Touch me," he said, in the most tender voice that nailed her straight in the heart. His vulnerability took center stage right now, even as his strong body topped hers. She brought her hands to his face, cupping his cheeks, tracing lines along his jaw. He gasped and closed his eyes, a barely-there moan of her name escaping his lips.

"Nate," she whispered. "Look at me."

He opened his eyes, and she melted. She absolutely melted under his gaze. She was in heaven with him. She was in complete and utter bliss. "I love the way you feel in me," she told him as she wrapped her legs around his back. "You make me feel so good."

"You should feel good."

"I love the way you move in me. I love having you inside me," she said, hooking her ankles behind his ass, drawing him deeper.

"Oh God," he groaned. "You're killing me."

"Do you know why I love it so much?"

"Why?" he asked, and his voice sounded nearly broken, like she'd stripped him of all his defenses, and he was bare before her.

"Because," she said, her fingers tracing his beautiful face. "Because it's you."

Then her back bowed, and she grabbed his neck, an orgasm sneaking up out of nowhere, pulling her under, crashing over her, consuming her in a tidal wave of bliss. "Oh God, I'm coming again," she said, crying out as she grabbed at him, pulling him closer.

"Fuck, I can feel you coming on me," he groaned.

She clutched at him, holding on tight to his shoulders as the pleasure rolled through her.

When the waves subsided, he was still right there above her, and hard as a rock inside her.

"There's a problem," she said playfully, in between breaths. "I'm three tonight to your none."

"Don't worry, sweetness. We've going to make it four to one soon. Where's that LolaRing we were going to try?"

Somehow, she managed to scramble out from under him to grab the toy from her suitcase. When she returned to the bed he was on his back, his hands behind his head, his dick at full attention.

"I believe you like to be on top, Miss Casey," he said, with a wink, and her heart tripped on itself. In that moment she knew for certain everything had changed. He was still her Nate, making her laugh in the middle of the most intense night of lovemaking in her life. Through it all, he'd possessed her, he'd revered her, and he'd revealed himself to her. And now, he was giving her back the thing he'd taught her to give up.

Control.

"My favorite position," she said, as she straddled him, sliding her hand over his cock, slick with her wetness. She leaned closer, her hair hitting his chest, as she purred in his ear. "You're all hot and wet from me."

He thrust up into her hand on a groan. "Yes, I am. Now finish us both off."

She rolled the toy onto his shaft, pushing the ring all the way to the base, and angling the Lola vibration exactly where it would hit her most sensitive spot. "Not that we would ever say this in our marketing, but for your ears only . . . I hear this is like being licked and fucked at the same time," she said, as she flicked it on and sank onto him and . . .

The earth stopped rotating. Time stood still. She nearly wept from the pleasure that burst in her body. Her bones rattled, her brain hummed, and she rode him, rising up and sinking back down on the toy as it buzzed merrily on her clit.

His hands found their way to her hair. "Kiss me while you fuck me," he whispered, and she obeyed.

Her lips crashed down on his, and she devoured him. His mouth was the sweetest thing she'd ever had, and she hungrily sought more of him. But she could barely sustain the kiss because her body was taking off again. "Oh God," she moaned into his mouth. He slid his hands along her spine, gripping her ass, taking over the work. She couldn't focus. She couldn't concentrate. The pleasure was too intense. Her brain short-circuited, and he thrust deep, moving her up and down on his fantastic cock that was made even more perfect by the insistent pressure from the toy. She felt so greedy, so ravenous as she sought out another orgasm. She couldn't help herself; Nate had turned her into this wild woman.

"Come with me," she moaned. "Please, Nate. Please come with me. I have to have you."

"You have me, Casey. You have me, I promise," he said, hoarsely, as he rocked hard into her, unleashing another round of ecstasy in her body. She shattered, bright white lights exploding behind her eyes as she convulsed around him, and he joined her, slamming up into her, driving deeper and harder and farther as he gripped her hips, and released himself inside her, groaning her name like she was his everything.

"This can't stop," he said as he shuddered, and pulled her close to him, his arms encircling her. Bliss radiated through her entire being. Sheer joy was all she consisted of. And happiness, so much unexpected happiness from his words.

"It can't end. I can't let this go. I can't let you go," she said, lifting her face to look him in the eyes.

"Don't let me go," he whispered.

"I won't," she said, running her fingers through his hair. She should have felt nervous. She should have been scared with what they were saying, knowing his track record, knowing his lines in the sand. Perhaps, if she were smarter about men and sex and love, perhaps if she truly did play games, she'd have held back. But her heart was so damn full it was about to burst with all these feelings. There was no way to contain all she felt. There was no way to keep it to herself. "When we were first together, I wanted you to teach me how to be submissive, and show me how to be seductive. But now I've been seduced by you."

His lips quirked up in a smile, and he shook his head. "No, it's the other way around. You've seduced me."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Las Vegas, later that week . . .

"Do you ever miss the stage?"

Brent Nichols tilted his head to the side and considered the question that Nate Harper posed to him. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and nodded. "Yeah, I definitely miss the stage. But not as much as I thought I would," he said. "I still moonlight, doing a show once a month, and that seems to be enough to feed me. The late-night TV circuit kept me pretty satisfied for a few years. Better to go out on a high note."

Brent had just finished a wildly successful run on a late-night TV show that his brother, Clay, had arranged for him. The show had generated record ratings, legions of fans, and more success than he had imagined. He'd made a purposeful decision to walk away when it was still a hit. One of the things he couldn't abide by was wearing out his welcome. Brent had always prided himself on never staying in one place, one gig, or at one job for longer than he was wanted. So he'd "retired" from the nightly work as a comedian. He'd also hungered for a change, eager to be more than the so-called "bad boy of comedy," with his tats, motorcycle boots, and edgy style. He craved the new challenge of building a business.

That was where Nate came in. They'd been talking about moving his first nightclub inside The Luxe, one of the most coveted properties on The Strip, and they were about ready to close the deal. Brent was in Nate's office at the Vegas property, laptop in hand, ready to share plans.

"Man, I already miss your show. Your bit about first date waxing always killed me," Nate said, and Brent chuckled. That had indeed been a popular routine, and had cracked him up a few times too when he'd practiced it. "But I'm glad to see the next phase of your career is working out. You want to show me your plans?"

Brent flipped open his laptop. "Here's what I've got in mind for the club." He rolled his chair closer to the computer screen, and clicked open the file, but he'd misfired, and a browser window popped open.

Fuck. He half wished it had been porn on screen, but no such luck. He'd left open the Facebook profile of Shannon Paige.

Curvy. Gorgeous. Brilliant. And probably hated him.

Nate tipped his forehead to the screen. "Doing a little Facebook stalking?" he asked him dryly.

If it were anyone else, Brent probably would've tossed out a quip, tried to make a joke. But he knew Nate well enough by now, because the man was friends with his brother and his brother's wife, Julia, courtesy of the mutual friends they all shared in New York. "Ex-girlfriend," he admitted.

"Ah. Recent breakup?"