She wanted to hold on to his taut ass as he pounded into her, feel the flex of it. His thighs pressed to the insides of hers, his sheer size widening her, despite the ankle restraints. Her body was still going, moving with every movement of his, her aftershocks as strong as some orgasms she’d had with other lovers.

Please, please come. She begged him in her mind. She wanted to give him that release, give him anything. He was gorgeous, strong, everything she desired. Totally merciless and totally protective, all at once. She didn’t know how to explain that thought, but it was in everything he was doing.

Tilting up as much as she could to give him even more access, she stroked his cock with her inner muscles to tell him how she felt. His fingers bruised where they gripped her wrists, and yet she saw his gaze flicker over her face with infinite desire and something deeper as she risked a look. She’d relish every mark he left on her, trace the dark smudges for days afterward.

“You want me to come, baby?”

She nodded, fast, quick, spoke the garbled words against water and metal. “Please, Master.”

“Squeeze me harder with that sweet cunt. Tell me how much you want it.” She put everything she had into it, despite the fact she felt weak as a newborn kitten.

However, it was enough. He leaned in, seized her mouth again. It was exquisite torture, the tip of his tongue on the seam of her closed lips, licking at her the way he might lick at her pussy, teasing those lips into full, puffy arousal.

She squeezed harder than she ever had, and started working herself as much as her bonds allowed, stroking, moving faster, though her lungs fought for air and her body strained at the limits of exhaustion. She’d give him everything; she just wanted him to . . .

With a deep, guttural noise, total male animal in rut, he let go. His face stretched into that sexy rictus of pleasure, lips baring back from strong teeth, nostrils flared and eyes glazing and yet firing at once, the brow drawing down to emphasize the fierceness of his response. She reveled in it, her body trying to keep up, but she had no reservoir left. She sank down on him, grunting at every powerful thrust, telling him she wanted more, more, more. He’d left her lips, her nose pressing into the hollow of his throat, burrowing as he used her body for his release.

When at last he slowed, he brought her face up for a lingering tease of her lips again, his eyes open and holding hers as he did it. He kept doing it until a slow liquid heat began to unfurl in her. She didn’t think it possible, but she was unable to control her reaction. A true Dom, he knew when he had her juices resurging, because he slid back from her then, releasing the restraints that held her to the statue.

This time she didn’t try to catch herself or control her descent, and she sagged into his waiting arms. When he carried her out of the fountain, plush towels already laid out on the sod made her wonder what Zone employee had seen her being pleasured. Had that enviable employee seen him ramming into her, that magnificent ass flexing?

As he laid her down on the towels, he continued to treat her as if she was his in all ways.

He positioned her arms over her head and then, with one casual jerk, he ripped the thin dress she wore. Spreading it out to either side, he tenderly removed the nipple clamps, even though the blood rushed back to them painfully. He knew, for he bent and closed a warm, soothing mouth over one, making her whimper again, everything in her weak and out of control. He took his time about it, slow, methodical licks of his tongue, soft suckling, then moved to the other until she couldn’t help but move restlessly beneath him.

All barriers to her body gone, he picked up a towel from the additional stack next to him and began to massage terry cloth over her skin, making her whimper when he ran it across her breasts, her breath sucking in at the sensitivity of the area.

Then he reached her pussy and her legs loosened automatically for him, earning an approving nod. Setting the towel aside at last, he leaned down, used his mouth to clasp the chain, slowly draw the tags from her lips. For a moment she held on to them, locking her jaw. His brow rose, a glint coming to his gaze. When at last she released them, he removed them, his fingers caressing, and returned the tags to his neck. She saw she’d left tooth marks, and was thrilled that he’d carry a reminder of her.

Since she was already there, it was a natural desire to look even lower, but she hesitated, looked back up at him.

“Look your fill, sweetheart.” He put his thumb to the corner of her mouth. “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?”

She shook her head, and looked. Down that powerful chest, to the sectioned abs, the conditioned body of a trained soldier. His cock was impressive even in semi-resting state, lying on the corded thigh muscles. She saw scarring in the abdomen area, though, scarring she recognized. A bullet injury, as well as some strikes that could have come from narrow brushes with explosions.

“Afghanistan,” he provided. “I’m pleased to see you aren’t marked that way.”

“Yet,” she whispered.

Gray clouds could become steel in an instant, she realized, as he leaned close again, his heated breath on her face. It made her lips yearn to taste, even as she trembled at what was in his face. Something no man had ever shown her with such undeniable clarity.

Possessiveness.

“You’ll keep your head and this fine ass down, Sergeant, so it stays that way. And I haven’t forgotten those ten strikes with the switch. I’ll make sure I send you off with a reminder to obey me in that.”

She swallowed, fearing and anticipating that switching, her fingers curling into the sod above her head, even as her pussy moistened further. He went to one hip next to her, propping his head on his fist, and stroked his fingers over her clit, watching her reaction.

“Tell me your name. Your real name.”

Three

Dana Esther Smith. Her voice had been soft but strong as well, like the flow of a river current he could feel on all his extremities, and perhaps even deeper than that.

Hours later, he’d escorted her back past his table, headed for the locker area. Matt and Lucas had been holding the fort. Matt had raised his glass, giving him his blessing. If Ben had still been there, he knew the lawyer’s eyes would have lingered a little too long on Dana’s tempting backside. That was Ben, always trying to get something started. Hell, he and Ben had shared a willing submissive before. But this time the thought raised his hackles, made him glad Ben was otherwise occupied.

The whole night had been full of unexpected surprises. He normally preferred a woman with no ink, but the three she had were such tantalizing clues into her head. Despite a jaded, sophisticated world, they suggested she was up-front about her gut convictions, like him. But emotionally there was shielding, complexity. It was what made a woman so damn appealing and frustrating at once.

He’d done what he’d promised, switched her pretty butt good, though a part of him didn’t want to mark that delectable flesh with such angry red stripes. While he’d wanted to play more with her sweet tits, his focus had been getting past those shields. Afterward, he’d made her kneel, take him in her mouth, a true submissive’s favorite posture, and had her suck him back to life with that skillful, devil-blessed mouth. She’d tried to sass him a couple times when the feelings they conjured in that magical room overcame her. He’d taken care of that. Repeatedly. But he couldn’t claim to be any less shaken up. With Dana, he’d not only wanted more; he’d taken it, forced her to that brink with him.

She came toward him now, because they’d agreed to meet at the entrance before she took off. She’d changed into jeans and a snug black tee. The little tease had left off a bra, probably realizing he couldn’t keep his eyes off a woman’s breasts. The jut of her nipples and wobble of her small curves were damn distracting, but he didn’t miss that she was trying to play it cool. She’d left the purple and green mask on. Giving him a friendly but distant smile, she went to her toes and brushed his mouth with hers. “It was a great night, Captain. A once-in-a-lifetime, God’s truth.”

Astonishingly, she was pulling away, intending to head for one of the waiting taxis.

Catching her wrist, he yanked her back to him. Pushing her up against the wall, he treated himself to a rough squeezing of those curves while he kissed her hard and deep, no passing brush of lips. When he lifted his head, her eyes were glazed behind the mask, her lips parted and heart beating fast.

“Trying to play me again, Sergeant?”

She swallowed, shook her head, but he was satisfied to see he’d broken that calm exterior. “I just . . . I can’t give you more than tonight, Captain. I want to, but I’ve got to keep my head on straight. I’m only on leave. Maybe another time, another place . . . I won’t be back for a year.”

Fuck, what was he doing? He was leaving for Afghanistan next week himself. How could he demand more? Because there was a hell of a lot more there, and no man in his right mind turned his back on that much treasure. He forced himself to look past his own feelings and at her stiff body language, registering the thready pulse. It didn’t matter if she was knocked off her axis, too; Dana obviously hadn’t intended to take her Zone experience any further than this. When a woman got spooked, she needed her space, time to think. He couldn’t push her now, no matter how much he wanted to. The problem was, by the time she thought it through, he’d be on a plane, and she’d be God knew where.

Damn it, earlier he’d calmly accepted fate’s direction for his future relationships. If fate was true, he’d see her again. Right? Tonight, he had to let it go.

Releasing her reluctantly, his hands lingering, he nodded. Fought back something that made no sense, that told him to fuck fate, to keep her here with him. Always. “Take care of yourself, Sergeant.”

She hesitated, maybe because she felt that resistance from him, or maybe because he was crazy enough to think she felt it from herself. Then she nodded, her fingertips grazing his forearm. Her breasts moved in that quivering, sexy rhythm as she moved to the cab.

When he held the door for her, he noticed the slender nape of her neck still bore the faint imprint of his dog tag chain. After he shut the door, she put her hand up to the glass. He tried to meet her palm to palm, but then the cab pulled into traffic and his fingers slipped off. At last glimpse, he could tell she was taking off her mask, a shadow disappearing into the night.