Despite the way Dax's kisses made my head spin, I still had enough sense to ask the driver to take us to a hotel. While I fully intended to let Gavin and Carrie know where I was, I wasn't about to bring Dax into their home without talking to them about it first. And right now, I wanted as few delays as possible.

Dax's hand slid higher up the inside of my thigh, pushing my legs apart, causing me to type out a jumble of letters that weren't even a word.

“Dax,” I practically moaned his name as his lips traced along my jaw. “I need to finish this text.”

“Go right ahead,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “You're not bothering me.”

I put my hand on his chest, fully intending to be firm and push him away, but then his fingers skimmed the crotch of my panties, and I shivered, my fingers curling into his shirt.

He made a sound of approval as his mouth touched the rapidly fluttering pulse in my throat. “If just a few kisses got you that wet, then I plan to have you soaked by the time we get to the hotel.”

“I...”

His teeth grazed my skin, and I forgot what I needed to say. Then his fingers pressed against me through black lace, and I forgot to care about what I was supposed to be doing. Forgot that we were in the back of a car. My hips moved against his hand, wanting more.

“What do you want, Bryne?”

I hadn't realized I'd closed my eyes until I had to force them open to look at him. “I...I want to finish my text so that we're not interrupted at the hotel.”

The smile that curved his lips couldn't be called anything other than dangerous. “Are you sure that's really what you want?”

A finger stroked my skin just under the elastic of my panties.

Damn him and the way my body responded to his touch.

“You have a choice here,” he continued. “I can take my hands off you, and not touch you again until we're in a room so you can finish what you're doing, or you can see how much you can get done while I get you off.”

I gulped in a hitching breath. “Are you sure you aren't a member of Club Privé? You seem to like being bossy.”

He chuckled, then leaned forward to bite at my bottom lip. Not enough to cause real pain, but enough to make me gasp. “I never said I wasn't into all that.” He moved his mouth to my ear. “Do you want me to show you?”

I nodded before I'd even fully processed the question.

“Then pick up your phone.”

My hand was shaking as I reached for my phone, but it wasn't fear or even anxiety. It was desire, pure and simple. If anything about desire could be simple.

“Finish telling your uncle and aunt that you're safe.”

His fingers moved under the damp fabric, over the thin layer of curls.

How the hell was I supposed to think with his hand up my skirt?

“Finish that text, Bryne, or I stop.”

His tone was firm, confident. If he said it, he'd do it.

I tapped out the remaining few words, struggling to process a coherent thought as a finger slid inside me. My head fell back, a moan escaping before I could stop it.

“Finish.”

I hit send. “Done.”

“Good girl.” He began to move his finger in short, shallow strokes, just enough to keep me wet, but not enough to give me what I needed.

My phone alerted me to a text. I glanced down and saw that Carrie had responded for the both of them. I was sure she'd ask more questions tomorrow, but she wasn't asking them now. Another text came through even as Dax pushed a second finger inside me.

“Todd.” Dax practically growled the name. “Tell him you're fine.”

I gasped as he twisted his fingers, his easy motions turning rough. His free hand went to my hair, pulling it free of the messy up-do it'd been in. He wrapped my hair around his hand and held me tight as his fingers moved inside me. My eyes locked with his, and I saw no anger, no malice in their depths. A hint of jealousy mingled with lust, but I knew I was safe with him.

I picked up my phone and tapped the microphone. “I'm fine, Todd.” I bit my lip to keep from crying out as Dax's thumb pressed down on my clit. My voice shook as I continued, “Gavin and Carrie know where I am. I'll talk to you later.”

I sent the message just as Dax curled his fingers to rub against my g-spot. My back arched, muscles tensing with the strain of staying quiet. I didn't want to test just how soundproof the back of this car was. His thumb rubbed over and around my clit until the pressure inside me exploded. I came with a muffled cry, my nails digging into Dax's arm until I knew I'd left marks.

I whimpered as he removed his hand from between my legs. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

My legs were still shaky when we pulled up in front of the hotel. Dax put his arm around my waist, holding me up as we checked in. The desk clerk didn't seem to know what to make of us. This wasn't the sort of place that rented by the hour, and I was pretty sure that it was clear why the two of us were here...without any luggage. There was also the fact of how out of place Dax looked in this fancy lobby. Even with his tattoos covered by his coat, there was something intimidating and maybe even a little scary about him.

Neither one of us said a word as we rode the elevator to the fourth floor, though we did both remove our coats. One less layer to take off once we got in the room. His hand was hot on my hip as we stepped out of the elevator, and every step we took down the hall made my body clench in anticipation. I hadn't let myself admit how much I wanted him until now, when it was impossible to deny.

The moment the door closed behind me, Dax pushed me back against it and dropped to his knees. Before I could ask him what he was doing, he was tugging off my boots. Once those were free, he pushed my dress up around my waist and pulled off my panties. I stepped out of them, first using his shoulders for balance, then to hold myself up when his mouth pressed against me.

The strangled sound that came out as his tongue explored was a cross between his name and a moan. He'd used his fingers on me the first time, but not his mouth. I had friends who talked about having to convince their boyfriends to go down on them, and even then, they claimed it hadn't been very good.

Dax was good. Beyond good.

I ran a hand up his neck to grip his hair in my fist. His hands were on my hips, holding them in place as he found my clit. I cried out, a jolt of pleasure going through me. There was no teasing, no gentle easing into things. His tongue and lips were relentless, driving me towards another orgasm. His fingers dug into me with bruising force, but it wasn't too much. It was like he knew exactly where the line was between what I could handle and what I couldn't.

I remembered how Carrie and her friends had said that what most people didn't get about the whole BDSM lifestyle was how much trust was an essential part. Now, as I gave myself over to Dax, I understood what they meant. Only when I completely let go, when I trusted him not to take things too far, did I have the freedom to fully enjoy what he was doing.

I could only imagine what it would be like to trust him enough to venture into any other areas of S&M.

I called out his name as I came again, wave after wave of white-hot pleasure washing over me, his mouth coaxing out every last bit until my knees buckled and he caught me in his arms.

By the time I came down from my high, I was on the bed, and he was standing next to it, naked. I took a moment to admire him. He'd kept his jeans on last time, but now I was able to follow the deep v-grooves at his hips, see the corded muscles in his thighs. Every tattoo and piercing, every inch of that gorgeous body.

I'd taken an art course my first semester in college, and we'd spent two weeks on the human form, complete with having to draw a nude based on the model posing for us. The teacher had dedicated an entire discussion to what was considered artistic perfection, and the point she'd made at the end was that people rarely agreed on what the ideal truly was.

I had a feeling that if Dax had been our model, pretty much all of the straight women and gay men would've agreed on him being a near-perfect male specimen.

“Strip, Bryne.”

The hunger in his gaze made me shiver. I pulled my dress off, grateful that I'd picked something comfortable and easy to remove. The bra went next, and both ended up on the floor somewhere.

“I want you on your hands and knees.” His voice was rough, as if the words themselves were scraping his throat raw.

I rolled onto my stomach, then pushed myself up. A flush spread across my skin, first from embarrassment, then arousal as his hand ran over my ass and then up my back. My eyelids fluttered when his hand moved under me, covering one breast. His fingers teased me, pinching and rolling my nipple until I forgot all about being embarrassed and only thought about how perfect his touch was.

“You're so fucking beautiful.”

I looked over my shoulder, my eyes meeting his. Every cell was throbbing, needing more than what he'd already given. I needed him inside me, and if the way his cock was twitching was any indication, he needed to be inside me as well. He kept his eyes on me as he rolled on a condom and then settled on his knees behind me.

A sharp smack on my ass made me jump, and I glared at him but didn't say a word when he did it again. The pain had been sharp, but quick, gone before it really registered. Now, all I felt was heat spreading out from where his hand had been. I'd never gotten the appeal of spanking before, but now I was starting to wonder if maybe I had more in common with Carrie and her friends than I thought.

The hand on my breast moved to my hair, wrapping it around his fist until he controlled the movement of my head. Still, I didn't protest. I may not have had much experience with actual sex, but I did know my own body, and what he was doing made me impossibly wet. My nipples were hard points, my hands digging into the comforter. I'd never been so turned on.

The tip of him brushed against me, and that was the only warning I received before he drove into me with one fast, hard thrust. The sound I made could only be described as a wail, a long, wordless cry, full of every sensation ripping through my body. Too many conflicting signals raced across my nerves, firing pain and pleasure receptors until my brain couldn't decide what I was feeling.

The muscles in my thighs quivered, and I wondered how long I'd be able to hold myself up as Dax began to move with slow, deliberate strokes. Each one went deep, filling me thoroughly before he withdrew almost all the way. There was no pause, no hesitation. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to play my body.

I'd made a mistake, I realized, by having Dax be my first lover. I doubted any other man would be able to compare in bed. And I'd always compare them. I wouldn't be able to help it.

He tugged on my hair, using it as leverage while he rode my body, pushing us both toward the inevitable end. Every inch of me was overly sensitized from my two previous orgasms, my clit throbbing, my muscles clenching and squeezing. It wasn't going to take long.

His hand came down on my ass again, and that was all I needed. The sweet sting that made the heat in my belly boil over. This was a different orgasm than I'd ever had before, deeper somehow, and I closed my eyes to let it roll through and over me. I was dimly aware that I was calling out his name, but sound had little meaning at the moment. It was all about the place where our bodies joined, the places where we touched.

Then Dax gave a guttural groan, his body stiffening behind mine, and I knew he was coming. He pulled my hair hard enough to make my eyes water, his hand gripping my waist almost to the point of pain, and then his hands were gone, and my body was slumping down onto the bed.

I drifted as I heard him moving about a few moments later and wondered if he planned to pull a repeat of our first time. I hissed as a washcloth moved between my legs, the fabric rough against my sensitive skin, but I didn't push him away, and it wasn't only because I didn't have the strength. I wanted to see what he'd do next; if he'd actually wanted more than just a second round.

He moved me under the blankets and then crawled under with me. I could feel the uncertainty as he wrapped his arms around me, and I knew he was waiting to see if I would tell him to leave. I hadn't yet reached the level where words were possible again, so I snuggled closer to him instead and felt his body relax.

I didn't know what this meant, who we were to each other, or even if we'd both wake up and realize we'd made a mistake, but I wouldn’t dwell on any of that now. Whatever the future held would come eventually, and we'd deal with it then. Tonight, I would let myself fall asleep in his arms, grateful that I'd come to New York.

Filled with hope for the wonderful things to come.