Twenty Years Ago

She awoke to the feeling of Jake’s hand in her hair and the sound of gentle rain falling. She opened her eyes and saw the cave cast in the deep, gray gloom of early dawn. Memories shot through her, horrifying recollections of the mountain lion’s screams rolling off the walls of the cave, of how the predator had stalked them all through the night like a living nightmare.

Sweet memories of the boy holding her and containing her fear also crowded her brain.

“Jake?”

“I’m right here,” he said, and again, he stroked her hair.

Her eyes clamped shut at the sound of his reassuring drawl. His voice and his embrace had become her touchstone during that terrifying, seemingly never-ending night. Several times, she’d felt her very being fraying and splintering upon hearing the shrieks of the mountain lion resounding so close to them, sensing the animal’s feral hunger and imagining its sharp, white teeth. Then Jake would speak to her in that even tone of his, prompting her to tell him more about Lord of the Rings, or reassuring her that they didn’t have long now.

“Dawn’ll be here soon. He’ll go then. You can bet on it.”

She sat up abruptly, breaking contact with his warm body. A jolt of panic went through her when she saw the dying embers of their fire. Those flames had come to mean safety to her, and life.

The fire had . . . and Jake.

“It’s gone?” she asked turning toward him, her eyes wide. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep in the middle of so much terror. It was a testament to how much she’d come to trust Jake Tharp.

She made out his outline in the semidarkness: his scraggly, longish dark blond hair and shoulders. She knew from firsthand knowledge that his hair was thick and soft and that his shoulders, though narrow, were stronger than she would ever have imagined.

Just like the rest of him was.

“It gave up about a half hour before dawn,” he said. She watched him as he stood. He was slight and young, but she had the impression he was about eighty years old in that moment. Not only because he always came off as being wiser and more patient than anybody she’d ever known, but because he moved like an old man as he stood from the hard cave floor.

“You held me all night,” she said regretfully as she rushed to her feet. He hadn’t moved positions since they’d first known where the mountain lion was and put the fire between it and themselves. “You must be so stiff.”

“No, just—”

She hugged him impulsively, inhaling the smell of soap from his long, unruly hair. He’d told her yesterday while they’d talked all day in the cave that Emmitt grudgingly would give him money for a haircut every year when school started, but that it grew faster than weeds during a wet season. Grandma Rose used to cut it for him when she was better, but lately, he’d taken to cutting it himself. He’d looked a little embarrassed when he’d admitted that. He’d also said that he wasn’t any good at it, so this summer, he’d just let it grow wild.

Harper experienced a surge of emotion thinking about the boy she held in her arms at that moment, his courage, and his kindness . . . and everything he’d given up for her. Her eyes burned. She didn’t know how to thank him, though. What she felt was too big to squeeze out of the fullness in her chest and through her narrow throat. She delved her fingers into his soft, thick hair instead.

“I’ll cut your hair later. You have some scissors on that fancy knife thing you have,” she said through a congested throat. His arms closed around her. He’d sensed her ragged state. She clamped her eyelids shut even tighter, a strange mixture of guilt and relief going through her at his unselfish embrace.

“That’s okay, Harper.” It wasn’t fair that such a young kid was forced to sound that grown-up . . . so wise, so tired, at age thirteen.

“I want to,” burst out of her throat. “You saved us. You took care of me all night, and kept me from freaking out and everything. I want to do something for you.” Because both of us know I haven’t got much to give you in return.

She let go of him abruptly, stepping out of the circle of his arms. She quickly swiped at her damp cheeks and attempted a smile. “I’ll cut your hair, okay?” she repeated brightly when she’d composed herself.

“Yeah. Okay.”

She was eager to get past her rush of gratitude and embarrassing show of emotion. Jake looked really uncomfortable.

“Can we do the cliff jump again?” she asked him, kneeling to help him scoop some dirt and ash onto the fire. There was just enough light entering the cave now that she could make out the shine of his eyes when he met her stare.

“No. We can’t take the chance that the mountain lion won’t come back tonight. We have to go. Besides, it’s raining out right now, and it’s a good steady one. The rain will help to cover our tracks. I’ve got an old camp tarp stored here. We’ll wrap what we can in it, keep our stuff protected from the rain. We’re leaving for Barterton as soon as we get packed up.”

Present Day

Harper’s eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps. She turned over in the soft sheets. There was a wide chest of drawers just across from the bed and a long mirror hung above it. In the reflection, she saw her long, mussed hair and sunburned, damp cheeks. She wiped at her face at the realization, amazed to feel tears on her fingertips. Whatever she’d been dreaming about had made her cry, she realized in wonderment. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull any details of her dream from her brain. Only a sense of poignant sweetness and sadness remained.

She sensed the subtle movement of the boat. They were anchored. Had Jacob moved the boat while she slept, as he’d said he would? She didn’t recall a bit of it. The yacht was large enough that waves didn’t rock it much, but there was still a subtle bobbing motion that she found soothing. She could tell by the color and slant of the sunlight coming through the window that she’d slept for over an hour, and that evening had fallen. When she pushed back the comforter, she saw Jacob standing in the open doorway, his hands braced at the top of frame.

“Hi,” she greeted him, propping herself up on the pillows but never ungluing her gaze from the sight of him. She’d never been happier to see him. He’d changed into a pair of dark blue shorts, but he wasn’t wearing anything else. His smooth skin had grown a shade darker in the sunshine today. There was a shadow of stubble on his jaw, and his burnished hair looked windblown. She drank in the sight of him thirstily.

“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all night,” he said, stepping into the bedroom suite. His brows arched as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You look so relaxed standing there in the doorway. So nice,” she replied. She reached out to touch his hard midriff. His taut abdomen muscles jumped slightly at her touch. She ran a fingertip down the silky trail of brown hair that led from below his belly button down below his shorts. “I was just thinking when I woke up . . .”

“What?” he asked when she faded off.

She swallowed, and shook her head slightly. Sleep and her dreams still clung heavily to her. “Have you ever noticed that some of the worst, scariest things that ever happened to you in your life were also the best?”

He caught the wrist of her stroking hand and squeezed gently. She looked up at him.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, curling up on her side beneath the sheet, all too aware of his sharp gaze on her. “I just woke up thinking that.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. Her heart jumped when she saw his tense expression. He leaned down over her.

“Do you really believe that, Harper? That the good things can be mixed up so closely with the bad?”

“Yes. I think so,” she whispered, her heartbeat starting to pound in her ears at his intensity.

“Is that what you think it’s like, to be with me? Scary?”

“A little, yeah,” she whispered, staring into his hypnotic eyes. “But it’s wonderful, too. So much so that I would never want to give up the beautiful part, because of the fear.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you about us being together more.”

“I know. I know it is,” she whispered emphatically, reaching up to touch his mussed hair. She dragged her fingers through it, loving the sensation against her skin.

He straightened and her hand fell away from him.

“I’m not going to let you push me out because you’re afraid, Harper.”

“No. I don’t want you to.”

His face looked achingly sober and beautiful when he reached for the edge of the sheet. Slowly and deliberately, he drew it down to below her thighs. He opened his hand along her hip and caressed the side of her naked body, then her ribs and belly. Her breath stuck in her lungs at the expression on his face . . . at a touch that she could only call worshipful. He caressed her thigh and then opened his hand over her outer sex, lightly rubbing her. Warm, achy arousal flooded through her. She felt it again, that sense of being cherished.

Possessed.

“Turn over,” he directed huskily. “Stretch your arms over your head.”

She did what he asked, pressing her cheek to the pillow, her arms above her head. That increasingly familiar, full feeling had swelled in her chest. He swept her unbound hair over one shoulder, baring her completely. Pleasure unfurled inside her as he began to caress her . . .

As he silently owned her.

He traced the lines of her shoulders and her spine. He touched the back of her knees and her thighs, and cupped her buttocks gently in his palms.

“Spread your thighs,” he said, and she did, feeling the cool air tickle at her damp sex. She held her breath. When he did penetrate her with his finger, air flew out of her lungs. She lay there as he stroked her, drowning in sensual pleasure and mounting excitement. Soft moans vibrated her throat as he took her higher. Just when her body began to tense, he withdrew his finger and used both hands to part her buttocks. Her ass clenched tight at the unexpected exposure. She waited, her body subtly vibrating with arousal.

He lightly brushed a fingertip over her anus. She whimpered softly.

“I want you everywhere, Harper,” he said gruffly from behind her. “I want to know you’d allow it. I need it. For me. Do you think that’s selfish?”

She couldn’t draw air. The moment felt almost unbearably intimate. He continued to spread her ass cheeks, making her entire sex, perineum, and anus tingle beneath his stare. Not for the first time with him, she experienced that potent sharp feeling of arousal at the idea of him taking control, of him finding so much pleasure and release in her body. She thought of how he always gave her so much in return . . . of how strangely safe she felt with him.

“Maybe. But then . . . I like when you’re selfish sometimes.” And your selfishness isn’t like any selfishness I’ve ever known.

He grunted softly and again ran a blunt fingertip between the crack of her ass, caressing her softly. She tensed in excited trepidation.

“Then I’m going to tie up your wrists and put a dildo in you. Get you ready. Then I’m going to use a spreader bar on you. And I’m going to have you.”

Her sex clenched tight in arousal. She wasn’t entirely sure what he’d meant, except for the certainty that he planned to penetrate her anally. But her excitement was spiked with trepidation.

“Won’t it hurt?”

He released the tension in his hold, ceasing spreading her buttocks wide but still keeping his hands on her ass, rubbing the cheeks tautly.

“You’ve never done it before?”

“No.” She’d never been interested before. With him, it would signify a deeper level of surrender, though. Of possession. That excited her. She found herself craving it, maybe even as greatly as Jacob seemed to hunger for this deeper level of intimacy and surrender with her.

His thumbs dug deep into the muscles of her ass.

“It will hurt for a moment maybe, especially with my cock. I’m going to get you ready, though. If there is pain, it will be over quickly.”

“What’s a spreader bar?”

“It’s just a metal bar that’s about two and a half feet wide. It has four restraints on it. I’m going to have you stand, and then attach the bar to your ankles. It will force you to keep your legs spread open. Then you’ll bend over, and I’ll restrain your wrists to the bar. You won’t be able to move while I have you.”

She stared at him openmouthed over her shoulder, shocked by his calm recital of the facts.

“Do you want to hurt me, Jacob?” she asked shakily.

“No. How can you ask me that?” he replied harshly. “I want to have you. Completely. I’ve told you before, that’s what turns me on. Not pain.”

“You’ll keep me safe?”

“Always,” he replied, his gaze growing extra fierce.

“Then, yes.”

He immediately released her and stood next to the bed. She almost turned to watch what he was doing, but realized she could see his reflection in the mirror over the chest of drawers as he crossed the bedroom. He opened what she assumed was a closet door and went inside. When he appeared again, she saw what he carried. Her thighs closed and tightened to alleviate the spike of arousal that went through her. In one hand, he carried a long metal rod; in the other was a bundle of black rope.

Her breathing had grown choppy from arousal by the time he stood next to the bed again, blocking her view in the mirror. Not that she needed the mirror to notice the heavy bulge at the front of his shorts as he leaned the spreader bar on the far side of the bedside table. On top of the table, he set down what appeared to be a package of—she strained to see—antiseptic towelettes? He turned toward her with the rope in hand.

“You can stay just like that, but pull your knees up under you, bottom in the air,” he directed, staring down at her.

Harper took the position, bending her knees beneath her, her breasts pressed against the mattress, her arms stretched above her head, one cheek turned into a pillow . . . ass in the air.

“That’s good,” he muttered thickly. “Wrists together, palms inward.”

He put a knee on the edge of the mattress and leaned down, binding her wrists and forearms with several loops of the black silk rope. His body was just inches away from her face while he restrained her, his cock right in her field of vision. She felt that familiar, forbidden sense of anticipation building in her. From the size and apparent weight of his erection, she wasn’t alone in her sharp arousal.

He lifted his knee off the mattress and stood again, opening a bedside table. She watched him as he withdrew both a bottle of lubricant and a box.

“It’s new,” he said quietly as he tore his thumb through the plastic and opened the box. He withdrew a black dildo. It was slender, about six inches long with a thick base. Its shape was realistically cock-like.

“Do you ever use one of these?” he asked her. Something about the way he held it up for her inspection made her thighs tighten to alleviate a stab of arousal.

“No. I have a vibrator, but . . . no. Not one of those.”

He picked up the lubricant.

It was pure erotic torture, watching him smooth the shiny lube onto the dildo with his fingers while she watched, her arms restrained above her head.

Her ass in the air.

Finally he set down the bottle of lubricant and came onto the mattress behind her. He positioned himself on his knees next to her bottom. His body was on the opposite side of hers—and the mirror. Heat scorched her cheeks when she realized she could see everything clearly in the reflection. He held the lubricated dildo in his left hand and stared down at her, his expression grim.

“Raise your ass some, Harper.”

She bit her lower lip and rose on her haunches, lifting her ass higher in the air. He reached with his right hand, and she realized his fingers were still glossy from the lubricant. With no buildup, he buried his fingers in the crack of her ass and rubbed a fingertip against her asshole.

She jumped.

“I know it probably feels strange, but try not to resist it. It’ll make things harder on you, if you do.” He pressed his fingertip tighter against her. “Push back against me. It’ll go in easier that way.”

She bit her lower lip and applied a firm pressure against his finger. He slid into her ass. She moaned.

“That’s right,” he murmured.

He began to fuck her with his finger. At first, Harper was overwhelmed with a strange combination of shame and arousal. She could see him in the mirror, watching himself as he penetrated her ass firmly with his forefinger, his face rigid. She clenched her eyelids shut. No sooner had she done it, however, than she craved the image of him again. Even in this, she found him compelling. Maybe especially in this. He pumped his hand faster, a snarl shaping his mouth. His opened his hand and gently slapped her curving buttocks every time he penetrated her with his finger.

She groaned. His gaze flickered up. For an electric moment, their gazes met in the mirror. Holding her stare, he opened his hand and pressed it against her ass cheeks, his finger sunk deep inside her.

“I’m glad you’re a virgin,” he said quietly. “Not only because it’s going to feel so fucking good inside you. I’m glad because I’m the one.” He squeezed her buttocks in his hand and pressed again, sending his finger higher inside her. A small smile flickered over his hard mouth. “Does that make me selfish?”

“No,” she gasped. A subtle trembling had started in her body. “Because I’m glad, too.”

He groaned roughly, pressing tighter with his finger, plumping her cheeks in his palm. Then he withdrew, and this time he pressed two fingers against her.

“Press back.”

A soughing sigh left her lungs when he entered her. She lay there, watching him penetrate her slowly. Then he slowly, firmly began to fuck her with them. Increasingly, her arousal trumped any anxiety or embarrassment. He did. But her shame and uncertainty added a surprisingly potent erotic jolt to the moment, as well. As did having full view of him while he did something so shockingly intimate. Her clit began to simmer at the anal stimulation . . . at the vision of him dominating her. He plunged his fingers deep and grimaced.

“Your ass is hot. You’re starting to like it, aren’t you?” he rasped. “Harper?” he asked sharply, meeting her stare in the mirror when she didn’t answer.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Look at you,” he said, and there was a harsh edge to his tone as he examined her in the mirror through a narrowed gaze. She thought she might know what he meant. Her cheeks and lips were flaming pink, and it had little to do with her sunburn. He said something under his breath, and she thought it was a curse. He withdrew his fingers from her ass. He transferred the lubricated dildo to his right hand, and her eyes widened.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, obviously sensing her tension. “You’re ready for it.” He spread back one cheek and pressed the tip of the dildo next to her opening.

He spread his big left hand at the top of her ass, encompassing both cheeks, and gripped her. “Come back on it, honey,” he said. He pushed with the dildo at the same time he guided her movement, using his hand on her ass to pull her against the rubber tip.

“Oh,” she cried out sharply.

He halted by clutching at her ass and keeping her in place.

“Just give it a few seconds,” he said, and indeed, the sharp moment of pain when he’d pierced her with the head of the dildo passed almost instantly. “Better?” he asked, and she nodded her head on the pillow. She was being honest. There was only pressure and mounting excitement at the vision of him pushing the sex toy into her. He looked up and caught her staring at him fixedly in the mirror.

“You like to watch?” he murmured, his voice a deep, sexy growl before he began to pulse the dildo in and out of her, guiding the subtle movement with his grip on her buttocks. She moaned at the mounting pressure. “Answer me, Harper.”

“Yes,” she replied shakily.

“There’s no reason you shouldn’t. You look amazing,” he said, appearing thoroughly intent on his task. “You felt like heaven.”

He worked the sex toy into her gently, but firmly, sinking it farther and farther with each pass. Harper lay there panting, increasingly aroused and spellbound by the image of them in the mirror. Her nipples had grown very stiff against the sheet, and her breasts ached. She couldn’t believe how much her clit simmered from the anal stimulation. She burned for pressure on her sex.

Finally, he plunged the dildo into her until only the square base remained exposed. He gave a low, rough growl, and his hand tightened on her ass cheeks, making her an immobile target. He flexed his hips forward and pressed his swollen cock against the side of her bottom. At the same moment, he pushed firmly on the base of the sex toy, keeping it deep in her ass. Harper’s cry of shaky arousal combined with his guttural groan. She wasn’t really aware of doing it, but suddenly, she was bucking her hips slightly, trying to increase the pressure.

“Hold still,” Jacob grated out, his finger sinking into her buttocks to control her movement, his biceps bulging to keep her in place. Harper stilled herself with effort, her mouth hanging open as she panted shallowly. Everything burned. Her cheeks, her nipples, her sex, the soles of her feet. The sensation of his heavy erection pressing against the side of her ass felt both intimidating and fiercely arousing.

He kept her in place for the next minute while he fucked her firmly with the dildo. Harper turned her face into the pillow, suppressing a squeal of anguished arousal. He must have known her cry was from excitement, not discomfort, because he fucked her harder with the sex toy.

“You like it?” he rasped.

“Yes,” she squeezed out of her throat into the pillow.

“Turn your face back to the mirror,” he demanded. “Watch yourself. You’re so gorgeous, Harper.”

She turned her cheek on the pillow, both because he ordered her to and because she wanted to. He fucked her with the lubricated dildo for another unbearably tense moment, still holding her ass possessively with his left hand, his enormous erection pulsing against her ass and hip.

She groaned roughly. His gaze met hers in the mirror. Her face was tight with agonized excitement. Suddenly, he was holding the base tight against her ass cheeks with his thumb and clambering off the bed to his feet. She whimpered.

“Hold still,” he ordered tensely, one arm extended to hold the sex toy inside her, the other stretching to the bedside table. He picked up both the package of towelettes she’d noticed earlier and the bottle of lubricant, and came back onto the bed. Harper watched, panting uncontrollably, as he released his hold on the base of the dildo for long enough to rip open the package of towelettes.

“Jacob?”

“It’s okay. Just a second.”

While he rapidly cleaned both of his hands, the dildo started to slide out of her ass. He tossed the towelettes aside and pressed the dildo back into her, making her gasp. Then he reached between her legs and stringently rubbed her clit.

She screamed.

Orgasm ripped through her. He continued to stimulate her clit while he penetrated her rapidly with the dildo.

Harper came back to herself a moment later, blinking open her eyelids dazedly, bliss still rippling through her, to see him pulling the black sex toy almost completely out of her ass only to plunge it back in a quick, ruthless rhythm. After a moment, he looked up and saw her watching him in the mirror. A snarl shaped his mouth.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, drawing the dildo completely out of her. He reached across her, grasping her far hip, holding her firmly while he ground his heavy cock against her.

“You are,” she replied in ragged disbelief, because in that moment, she’d never seen anything as awe inspiring as the savage, blazing desire exposed on his face as he stared down at her.

He was losing his mind, he thought as he hastened off the bed. He was about to be cut wide-open by the sharp, ripping claws of undiluted need. His lust—his longing—was so single-minded that he almost passed on using the spreader bar, the thought of getting back on the bed and just taking her then and there taunting him.

She’d been so incredible, though. So responsive. The idea of having her completely at his mercy, of thoroughly possessing her, battered at his consciousness.

Using every last shred of restraint he had remaining, he unbound her hands from the rope and urged her to stand next to the bed.

“Spread your legs and bend over,” he instructed, one hand at the small of her back. He already knew that she was very flexible, but he’d never had her in this particular position before. She bent with supple ease at the waist, her long, copper-colored hair slipping over her shoulders and hanging in the air. He slid his hand down to her ass, spreading her. His cock lurched, making him wince. The vision of her elegant back, round, firm ass, and pink, glossy sex pounded at his consciousness. He felt like one giant, throbbing ache.

Grimly, he turned away from the sight of her, reaching for the spreader bar.

He got the bar on her in record time. When he’d finished, she stood with the bar bound to her ankles, immobilizing her legs so that her thighs were spread wide. There were two cuffs at the center of the bar, where he restrained her wrists. He stood next to her, caressing her ass. He spread her buttocks with both hands and listened to her soft whimper. Liking the sound so much, he reached between her thighs and rubbed her clit. Her sharp cry of surprise segued to a moan.

“God, you’re drenched,” he grated out.

She was so lovely. And she was his. The strangest mixture of tenderness and cutting, rabid lust coursed through him. Grimacing, he cupped his balls and the root of his cock and backed away from her. He jerked his shorts off and reached into the bedside drawer for a condom. He hated that thin barrier, but until they’d both been given the okay medically, he knew he didn’t have a choice.

“You okay, Harper?” he asked as he rolled the condom on his turgid cock and walked behind her.

“Yes, but I wish I could see you,” he heard her say in a muffled voice. He reached for the bottle of lubricant on the bed.

“I know,” he said, flipping open the cap. He poured a liberal amount of lubricant on his cock. He fisted the shaft, spreading the silky fluid. “It’s your eyes, though. They always make me lose control, and this is going to be a trial as it is.”

“But—”

“I told you this was for me, Harper,” he interrupted quietly, peeling back an ass cheek. He pressed the tip of his cock to her. “I need to have you like this. Completely. The next time we do this, not even a damn condom is going to separate us. Do you understand?” he asked with as much patience as he could muster.

“Yes,” he heard her say.

He reached around her hip and slid his fingertip between her labia. She moaned. He felt her tense.

“Jac . . . Jacob. Oh God.”

She started to shudder in orgasm.

“God bless it, girl,” he muttered tensely, incredulous at her responsiveness.

He thrust, pushing his cockhead into her ass. She made a squeaking sound, but he rubbed her clit harder. She cried out sharply, her orgasm spiking. He felt her tremors with the tip of his cock. “Christ, you’re hot,” he groaned, grimacing as he nursed her through her climax. Finally, he couldn’t take the torture anymore. “I’m sorry, honey.” He gripped her ass in both hands, his thumbs prying back the cheeks slightly. He flexed his hips, sliding his cock into her clamping heat another few inches. “I have to do this now.”

He saw the fine trembling of her back and heard her sharp cries. He sunk further into the heaven of her, compelled.

As always.

Harper felt like she’d overloaded. She’d been intensely aroused by having the spreader placed between her ankles and then having her wrists cuffed to the bar. Her excitement confused her, as well. Why would she like being bent over and restrained in such a fashion? Jacob had said it was up to them, and them alone, to decide what they wanted sexually and what was sick or shameful. But then he’d said what really made her understand her excitement: I told you this was for me, Harper.

She loved the idea of being utterly possessed by him, but she craved the knowledge that this powerful, in-control man would lose himself for a blissful moment of time, finding pleasure and release in her body. She wanted to give him that. If she had her way, she’d sacrifice even more of herself.

She clenched her teeth together as he firmly began to saw his cock in and out of her ass. There had been pain at first, when he’d squeezed that succulent cockhead into her, but her orgasm had distracted her. Now there was only intense pressure and a growing sense of wonder. There must be more nerves in her ass than she’d ever realized before. She felt his cock in her body more keenly than she ever had. He was rigid and swollen, the surface tension of the shaft both intimidating and arousing.

He held her ass tightly and sunk into her deeper. “Oh, yeah. God, you feel good.” She heard it in his groan, his sharp excitement. His splintering control. And suddenly, something clicked for her, and she understood him better than she ever had before.

“Fuck me, Jacob. Please.”

A primal growl rattled his throat, and then he was thrusting.

What followed was both savage and soulful. She gave more of herself than she ever had before, offering it all up. Because somehow, she got what he meant when he said that he needed it this way. Required it. He was like a starved man who needed to drown in decadence in order to assure himself that he could. Incredibly, he seemed to sense her total surrender to the moment.

“That’s right, just take it. Take me, Harper,” he rasped before he drove into her to the hilt, and she gasped loudly.

There was nothing she could do. In the position he’d placed her in, all she could do was feel. Absorb him. After several moments of straining caution, he began to thrust even harder, the sound of their bodies smacking together and his grunts of pleasure raining down on her. His hold on her ass tightened to counterbalance the strength of his strokes into her. She trusted completely that he’d keep her steady. Safe. She imagined him behind her, losing himself to an orgy of pleasure. Was he watching himself fuck her in the mirror, his face rigid, his eyes burning with excitement? It aroused her intensely, as did—strangely—the knowledge that there wouldn’t be any release for her in those tense, erotic moments. The spreader bar prohibited her from getting much pressure on her sex, although the indirect friction was mind-blowing.

After several taut moments of rattling her world, she felt his cock swell in her and his thrusts grew faster, his pelvis popping against her ass in a harsh staccato beat. She gritted her teeth. He wasn’t hurting her, but the experience was intense. He thrust deep, his fingers digging into her buttocks. A low, primitive-sounding growl vibrated in his throat. She felt his cock jerk in her and bit her lip.

A growl tore out of his throat. Harper felt that groan in the core of her being. She’d never before experienced a lover’s orgasm so personally. She wasn’t coming at the same time as him, but somehow . . . she was coming with him.