Candlelight flickers off my Dracaena’s golden skin as she lies, resplendent, on the spanking bench. Black stockings outline firmly muscled thighs, spread for my attention. Time stills then slips away as I enter the zone I’ve avoided. Dom space where no thought enters except for those centering on my Dracaena, on her passion, on her resistance, on her need.

I took a gamble using impact play instead of direct stimulation as warm up. Now, it’s time to move Rayne to the next level. Slide-by clitoral moves work like a charm. Her breathing is ragged. A sheen of sweat glistens her skin. Her back arches off the bench as she reaches for the elusive orgasm. Her cunt pulls me deeper into its mystical power. I resist the urge to plunge my engorged cock deep inside. Not yet.

I slide my fingers by her swollen clit a few more times. Her moans turn into hoarse gasps. I revel in the almost painful jolts of lust as her warm, thick folds close around the two fingers I thrust into her cunt. I press the pad of my thumb against her clit. Only the wrist restraints keep her from rocketing off the bench.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Please, Jaden. Please.” Her pleas run together into one extended moan.

Good. She’s no longer able to keep the lid on her reactions. I want her free, open. I want to make her come, to reach the climax that seems just out of her reach.

Her clit fascinates me, and I take the time to give it concentrated attention. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and I’ve seen a few in my time. It’s on the large side before she’s excited; it blooms into a work of art as her lust increases. I kneel and circle the engorged nub with my tongue. It’s like sucking candy, and I take time to enjoy her exquisite taste.

“Please.” The word comes out as a deep, husky moan. Begging is a good first step.

I lean close to her ear. “I love to hear you beg. Now, lose yourself in the moment. I want to hear you scream.”

Rayne’s full lips form a perfect O, tempting me to wrap them around my cock. One of the soft limits she’ll break. Time for that later. Her head thrashes from side to side as if saying no as she rocks her pubes against my hand. I press hard against her G-spot as I rub her steel-hard clit. She rears back so fast I almost topple over. The restraints hold her in place.

Her body becomes one mass of shakes and quivers. Moans become groans as she reaches for the elusive orgasm. I kneel down and pull her clit into my mouth with one smooth movement. Her moans are deep and throaty. Continuous quivers convulse through her body. My joy borders alarm as I watch this magnificent creature unfold before me. Never have I seen such a strong sexual reaction without orgasm. Her mind and body unite into one focused machine.

I should give her a break, let her rest. I follow my gut as I plunge a silicone dildo into her convulsing pussy. One pure, high-pitched scream makes me wonder whether the Masquerade Club security will come running. Rayne’s thrashing reaches warp speed. Now, the only things keeping her from parachuting off the bench are the wrist restraints and the hand I have braced on her ass.

I’m mesmerized. I slow down the tempo of my thrusts, allowing her to cool down . . . just a little. When her panting subsides to deep moans and her thrashing stills, I remove the dildo. Time to take her off the bench.

I brush my lips over hers as I remove the blindfold. She opens those beautiful dark eyes, now almost black with desire. I lay her on the chaise and push those magnificent legs high in the air. My eyes never leave hers, and I suppress a smile as her eyes widen with her thighs. She is the most beautiful and exotic woman I’ve ever seen. My Man throbs in agreement, asking for his own attention. Time enough for that later.

I go back to work. I press hard against her G-spot. She cranes her neck to look at me. Something in my expression must speak to her as she moans and rears, eyes holding my gaze until she can no longer focus. Her face tenses with a mixture of desperation and lust with a side of resignation thrown in. Her lids close as another convulsion rattles through her. Suddenly, she stills, as if she’s climaxed. She hasn’t. That trick might work with someone else, but I know real from fake. Trust and truth are two things we obviously need to work on.

I release her restraints, turn her over and spread her legs wide. Those dark eyes follow me as I drop my pants and reach for a condom. She gives her head a tiny shake.

“I want you skin on skin,” she whispers.

I store away that nugget of trust to examine at another time. I take a moment to give homage to her glistening cunt. Ripe. Ready . . . for me. At that moment she’s mine. All mine.

I position myself and fight the urge to plunge in up to my balls. Slow and easy, Jaden. She gives one of those delightful moans as I slip the head of my cock into her swollen folds. Inch by searing inch, I relish her heat as it envelops me. I sink in deep and only stop once I feel my balls press against her ass. She surges toward me. I pull back just a notch as she moves with me.

Strong legs wrap around my ass and pull me toward her. The more I pull away, the more she increases the pressure. She pulls, arches, thrusts, and moans until I relent and give her just what she wants. I throw my head back and drive into her with the speed and force of an oncoming train.

When I do something, I do it all the way. That’s the same approach I take with sex. I was in ninth grade when one of the town’s matrons took my virginity. She led me on a merry romp several afternoons a week throughout the school year. She rode me like I was a thoroughbred stud and taught me longer was better. Over the years, I learned several ways to delay gratification. I put them to good use now.

I’m happy to report I haven’t got the smallest dick on the planet . . . nor the largest, but I land on that side of the equation. I watch in amazement as Rayne takes my girth. She cants, twists, and thrusts her hips. She repeats one word over and over again: please.

As my balls pull tight, ready to shoot their load, I still, using the time to torment my little dragon. She shivers as my breath sweeps the fine hair on her earlobe. I’m mesmerized by her responsiveness.

“Please what?”

She moans but says nothing. I keep perfectly still, enjoying being buried right down to my bollocks. My approaching orgasm recedes fractionally, but the depth of her lust keeps me rock solid.

“Talk to me. What do you want?”

She moans and thrashes again. I withdraw until the tip of my cock rests against the opening to her snatch. She tightens her legs, trying to draw me in. The thing is, I’m big; she isn’t. I hold her down, relishing the moment as she loses herself to her uninhibited sexuality. She moans and thrashes some more.

I dive in. “Is this what you want?”

She moans something that sounds vaguely like “yes.” It’s like removing rusty nails to get her to talk, and that’s a good thing. I find it a distinct turnoff when women use chatter to hide their lack of interest. I like how Rayne’s excitement ratchets up several notches when I speak to her. Note to self.

I focus on giving Rayne the ride of her life. I adjust my rhythm and settle in for the ride. Rayne instantly adjusts her pace to match mine. I almost come apart at the seams. I grab and tip her ass, deepening the connection as our bodies fuse. Her deep breaths return to panting. The volume of her moans increases until she’s screaming for release. And still, she doesn’t come.

I persevere, alternating a slow, steady pace with fast, hard plunges. Rayne’s eyes remain tightly closed as her body becomes one perpetual motion. Her mouth parts as she pants and groans out a whisper.

“Please, Jaden. Please. Now.” Or at least that what I think she says. There is nothing left for her but the ecstasy of the moment. She is mine.

Her eyes fly open and fasten on mine. She licks her lips and smiles as she tries to pull away, but I hold her fast. I quicken, and she responds. She loses the battle to watch me, and her lids drift closed. Once again, she submits to the depths of her desire.

I bring her close to the edge once again. Now, I’m panting with exertion. This woman is hard work, and I love it. I reach down and squeeze her clit. She screams, arches, and becomes statue still. I jackhammer into her. Strong vaginal muscles squeeze around my erupting dick. Together we ride the waves that carry me over the crest of ecstasy.

Her cunt still licks my cock as my orgasm tapers off. Emotion floods through me as I watch her come down. This woman is having far too much effect on me, and it scares me.

Savannah’s ghost hovers, a constant reminder of the emotional pain that changed me. Everything I knew, worked for, no longer holds any meaning for me. I hide away in what became a meaningless existence. I became obsessed with the phone call telling me she was a victim. Taken and abused by the scum in the human trafficking underworld. I remember every second as her warm body grew cold in my arms. My God, I’m a doctor, and I couldn’t save her.

For months, I lived isolated and depressed. Then, I got mad. I became a man whose existence depends on retaliation against this sick underworld. It remains the only way I can keep the constant rage at bay. I stand stock still, eyes closed tight, as Savannah’s ghost tightens her grip on me.

I remove the cuffs from Rayne’s wrists. She lies there, looking up at me. The satisfied smile starts to fade as I throw on my pants.

“I’ve got some work to do. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I refuse to look back as I retie the chains around my heart and walk out.

My computer will help me forget.

“Don’t worry. We’ll mess her up some. She’ll be real sorry she messed with the man.”

I recognize the voice of the head goon Viper sent to my compound, the guy who calls himself Rambo. Although I’ve missed the beginning of the conversation, I know beyond a doubt he’s talking about Rayne.

“You’re not to touch her. Not one little hair on her head.” Every nerve ending in my system vibrates as Viper’s distinct voice comes through loud and clear. He’s alive. What the hell? No time to focus on that now.

“Got it.”

“Got it, boss. But I thought—”

“I don’t pay you to think. Ten grand to anyone who brings her to me unharmed. That little bitch tried to make me look like a fool. For that she’ll pay, big-time. What about that bastard, Blade?”

“We found him, boss. He’s holed up with his friends at the Masquerade Club in Toronto. And you can bet your ass he’s got her with him.”

I imagine Viper resting his chin on tented fingers while he studies Rambo. He rules by fear. Rambo’d piss himself before he’d move unless ordered.

“Put the sister to work. Use a motel in Milton or Mississauga. Make sure it’s someplace scuzzy, or Blade won’t fall for it. Put three guys to grab the bastards.”

“But, boss, we’re down—”

I hear the distinctive sound of the hammer cocking on a .44 Magnum. Story has it Viper shoots any man who questions his authority.

“Tell Whippo there’s a hundred bucks in it for him if he leaks the message to Blade. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Rambo clears his throat.

“You need something?” Viper asks.

“Where do you want us to take her?”

“The Manor in Inverhuron.”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll take down Blade’s entire organization.”

“Luck will have nothing to do with it. Good planning, Rambo. That’s what it takes. And I’ve got a good plan. We’ll take down his bastard friend, Connor. Three cats in one bag. Do you know that son of a bitch refused me a membership in his sordid little clubs?”

“No!” Despite probably having heard the story repeatedly, Rambo manages to sound shocked. “What’s that all about?”

“Fucker said I wasn’t the right flavor for their club. Like I was some kind of worm or something. Well, I have news for him.”

“Want us to mess the club up while we’re there?”

“Take a seat.”

Silence reigns. I imagine Viper staring out of his office’s window wall view of downtown Toronto. Several minutes pass before we hear a loud sigh.

“No. Not a good idea. Good as it sounds. Grab the girl and get the hell out of there. He’ll follow the girl.”

“Gotcha, boss. Too bad. Would have had some fun.”

“Tell you what. Pull this job off, and you can do whatever you want with the club. It will be my gift to you.” A cell phone vibrates loudly in the background. “Yeah . . . give me a minute, sweetheart.” Text me when you’re done.”