Trace was navigating foreign territory.

Even with Monica, he’d always been able to separate the strands of the relationship and BDSM. He was her Dom. She was a sub. They had cared for each other for a time, and yet he had never been obsessed with her. He never lost sleep because of an argument.

Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about Aimee, how to please her, give her new experiences, while protecting her. Not just physically, but emotionally.

It disturbed him.

Maybe it was the constant proximity, the responsibility. Even the knowledge Inamorata was depending on him to stay sharp and keep Aimee safe.

And maybe it was something damn else entirely.

After checking the security system and his phone, he made his rounds through the house again. It was unnecessary, but still a compulsion.

In the dining room, Eureka growled at him. Confounding avian. At times, they were friends. Of course, the bird had probably heard Aimee’s cries, maybe making him territorial.

The feathered pet lifted one of his feet and stared at Trace.

“I’m glad you’re in the cage.” He grabbed a nut from a bowl as a pseudo peace offering. Eureka moved to bite him with his ferocious bill. “I’ve heard parrot tastes like chicken.”

“Tastes like chicken.”

Sure everything was safe, he headed back to join Aimee.

The room was steamy and smelled of lavender, or what he thought might be lavender. Could have been any flower, he supposed, even rose or lilac. Regardless, it smelled fresh, feminine, and appealing, just the way a sub of his should smell.

His cock was hard again, and he hadn’t even looked at her yet. He stripped and dropped his clothes in the hamper with hers. He didn’t think too long or too hard about what that meant. It just seemed more respectful than dumping them on the floor. Or that was what he told himself.

He slid back the shower door, and she looked up at him. Water dripped from her hair, and several drops clung to her long eyelashes. She held on to a round nylon-looking thing that was oozing lather.

“I can’t say that a man has ever been in the shower with me before.”

“I like being your first.” He entered the shower and then reached to cup her breasts. He loved the dark, dusky pink of her small nipples and how quickly they hardened when he gently pinched them. She moaned, her knees going forward a bit. “Tell me how much pressure you like. How much feels like too much? How much pushes you past that point and makes your pussy throb?”

“Even your words do that to me,” she admitted.

He tightened his grip a little.

Her mouth opened.

“You like that?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes.”

He applied a bit more pressure, and her eyes closed. Even more and she gasped, panting. “That?”

“Hurts,” she whispered.

“And this?”

She cried out.

“You didn’t just come, did you?”

She blinked. Then she laughed nervously. “I guess that’s the point where my pussy throbs.”

“Did you come without permission, querida?”

“I guess I need to be punished.”

Dios. Save him.

“Will you punish me, Trace?”

This time, she took an assertive role, and he was about done for.

She raised onto her tiptoes, dropped the poufy thing, then wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned into him, pulling his head downward so she could kiss him.

Where he was demanding, she was a bit more tentative, but when he opened his mouth for her, she took a bit more of an aggressive role, finding his tongue, then retreating.

He liked the way she tasted. It was more than that. It was about her willingness to please him, her desire to make him want her in return.

His dick throbbed against the softness of her belly.

She pulled away a little, long enough to look him in the eyes, and against his mouth, quietly said, “I love the sight of your cock.”

Where the hell was his sweet, innocent submissive?

She folded a soapy hand around his cock and began to stroke him. As hard as he was for her, it would take her less than a dozen strokes to jerk him off. Half a dozen if… “Aimee!” He grabbed her hand.

She increased her pressure and made the strokes faster and shorter. Dios. He tightened his grip, forcing her to stop.

“Do you like that, Trace? Sir?”

How in the name of sweet Jesus did he go from being in charge to being bewitched? “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”

“I didn’t ask for it.” She bit his lower lip. Hard. “I wanted to touch you. And I want to suck you as well.”

Had she used one of her mosquitoes when he was outside, planting something inside him that told her exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it? Something had definitely gotten under his skin. “You want me? It’s more than mutual, but we’ll do it my way. Face the wall, Aimee.” He liked her shower. It was big enough for both of them, with room to maneuver. She’d obviously spared no expense here. The showerhead was oversize, and it was adjustable, height wise. The interior was tiled, with a built-in bench, something he was certain they would take advantage of when he got around to letting her suck him, something that, if he thought about it too long, would make him come at the first skin-to-skin contact.

She turned while he picked up the bottle of body soap from a shelf. “Hands on the wall,” he instructed. “Above your head.” Her sweetheart of an ass was temptation manifested. If he weren’t careful, he’d forget he was supposed to be the Dom here.

He squirted some of the soap into his palm as he looked at the bottle. Lilac, not lavender. He’d been close. At least they were both purple flowers. He lathered both hands and smoothed them over her shoulders, then down her back. She gave a small moan that made his cock stretch and strain even harder.

Then he bent behind her. “Feet at shoulder width, Aimee.”

She slowly moved into position.

Water ran over both of them, and this close to her, he inhaled the smell of her. It was all he could do not to bury himself there, all he could do not to lick her until she came all over his mouth.

He soaped her legs one at a time and adjusted the showerhead to rinse her completely. He cleaned the soap from his hands before stroking between her legs. Her pussy was slick from her own juices, and she needed no lubrication.

He moved his forefinger back and forth across her clit. Then he brought in his other hand to spread her labia and pull back the hood of her clit. It amazed him how much he liked to touch her. The sound of her pleasure spiked his own. He wasn’t generally into self-denial, but this woman made him want her pleasure more than he wanted his own.

She jerked and gave that tiny moan that he recognized as a precursor to her orgasm. She was so responsive, so easy to please. He gave her clit a tiny pinch. She gasped, her forehead falling forward to hit the tile.

The tiny pinch had interrupted her orgasm, and he easily slid a finger inside her.

Her breaths were shortened, little bursts of air, and he slipped in a second finger beside the first. “More?” he asked.

He saw her fingers splay above her head. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Tell me.”

“I want another finger inside me.”

He finger fucked her until she rocked back and forth. It was hard not to get caught up in her reactions. In his less experienced years, he would have taken her while she was in a heated frenzy. But he wanted her over and over again, wanted her satisfaction, wanted her to enjoy all the experiences he could give her. More than ever, this was about her, testing her limits, taking her places she hadn’t known existed. That he got to go there with her was just pleasure on top of pleasure.

“Trace,” she whispered. “Trace. I want… I’m going to come.”

He had guessed that a fraction of a second before she said anything. He stopped his motions, gently pulling out of her. She gave a halfhearted cry of protest but didn’t say anything else. Trace adjusted the water, making sure it fell warmly on her body. Then he continued to soothe her until she quit shaking from the second denied orgasm. “I’m proud of you,” he said.

“I didn’t want you to stop.”

“Yeah. I gathered that.”

“You really are a sadist.”

“A happy one, since I found an avowed masochist to play with.”

“Beast,” she said, stamping her right foot.

“Just think how spectacular your first anal orgasm will be.”

She froze.

“Relax.” He drew some of the arousal from her pussy back toward her anal whorl.

“Nervous,” she said with a little laugh. “I tried before. It was a disaster.”

“I want you to trust me. I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. We’ll start with one finger, like we just did. And only when you’re ready for a second will I attempt it.”

“No sex?”

“Not until you’re ready.” He leaned in very close as he touched a finger to her most private area.

She nodded.

“When I push in, bear down and push your anal muscles back against me.”

“You’re serious?”

He took her earlobe in his mouth and gently bit. Then he trailed kisses down the column of her throat to distract her.

He felt her relax slightly, and he stroked her pussy with featherlight motions even as he put a small amount of pressure on her anus. “You’re doing great,” he said.

“You haven’t done anything yet.”

He brought his left hand up to cup her breast, and then he pinched a nipple. She yelped and arched her back as she tried to evade him. He took the opportunity to effortlessly enter her rear.

“Damn!”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re there,” he told her.

“I’ve been scared of that?”

“’Fraid so.”

She sighed exaggeratedly.

“Not so bad?”

“It’s amazing.”

He moved his finger, stretching her a bit.

“I… Er…” She wiggled her hips experimentally. “I think I like that.”

He couldn’t wait to take her this way, filling her ass with his cock, driving it home, making her scream as she came. “I hoped you would.”

“Can you…? Will you try a second?”

“I’d prefer to use lube for that.”

“There’s some in the cabinet under the sink.”

“Was that a please?”

“I want a second finger up my ass. Please.”

He laughed. Quick study. She exceeded all his hopes, and he had had very high hopes. “Greedy little sub.”

“I said please.”

He left her for a moment, dripping water all over the floor. The lube was conveniently at the front of the extra toiletries and her lotion. He grabbed the bottle, flipping open the lid and squirting a dollop onto his fingertips before he even returned to the shower.

She was in the same position where he’d left her, even with her legs spread, waiting. At this point, she could lead him around by his cock, and he’d follow her anywhere.

He backed up a bit instead of starting from where they’d left off. Even without his telling her, she arched her back for him. He wrapped one arm around her.

“Will you stroke my pussy?”

“Ask nice. Like a sub.”

“Sir… Trace… Will you please stroke my pussy?”

Fuck. “Happy to.” He did. Simultaneously he pressed a finger against her rear entrance.

She thrust back against him.

“Old pro,” he said. He kissed the side of her neck. He couldn’t help himself, not because he thought it would please her, but because he wanted to. He wanted her to be his, and he wanted to mark her. He wouldn’t actually do it, but damn it, he wanted to.

This surge of possessiveness was odd. In the past, he’d sometimes shared his subs, but the idea of sharing her pissed him off.

He moved his finger in and out. Then, when he thought she was ready, he brought a second finger up beside the first and eased both inside her.

She gasped. “That’s a little more challenging,” she said. “You’ve got big fingers.”

Her breaths were a little close together, as if she might be close to freaking out. He stroked her clit just a little faster.

“That… Yes. Right. There.”

“You like it?”

“Feeling overwhelmed,” she admitted. “It hurts. But…” Then she screamed.

Her orgasm surprised him, and if he didn’t guess wrong, it surprised her as well. He caught her as she collapsed backward into him.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to do that.”

“That one’s a freebie. You earned it.”

“No punishment?”

He wiped the water from her eyes as she tipped back her head.

“That’s fair,” she said when he didn’t respond. “It was your fault, anyway.”

“Is it indeed?”

“Well, if you weren’t such a skillful lover, I could have held on longer.”

“Do we need to have a discussion about personal responsibility?” How long, if ever, since he’d teased a woman?

“No, Sir.” She batted her eyelashes.

Yeah, she could lead him anywhere.

“I think it’s time for your butt plug.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“You will be.” Keeping her supported, he pulled first one, then the other finger, from her rear.

She wiggled about until she faced him, then pushed runaway strands of hair back from her face.

He turned off the faucet and reached for one of the towels she’d thrown over the shower door. After drying her hair and her face and trailing the towel down her neck and across her chest, he said, “Turn around.”

Obediently, she did.

He ran the soft material across her shoulders, then down her back, before rubbing the towel across her buttocks. He crouched to dry her legs, before finally moving to her intimate parts. Her labia were swollen and reddened. If he’d ever seen anything more appealing, he didn’t remember the sight. “Now the front.” His voice was husky. If he didn’t get her into the bedroom immediately, he’d take her right here in the shower.

After she was dry, he tossed the damp towel back on top of the door and snagged the other for himself. “Wait for me in the bedroom.”

She inhaled, but showed no sign of protesting. Aimee started to pass him but paused. She reached up and stroked his chin with the back of her hand. “You turn me on.”

“Yeah?” She left the room, and for far too long, he watched her. Then, shaking his head, he gave his body a cursory pass with the towel before following her.

Aimee was lying on top of the bed on her side, her head propped on her upturned arm. From earlier, the lube and the plug were on top of the nightstand. “I want you on your stomach, with a pillow beneath it.”

Her eyes widened as she followed his gaze. “You’re going to put the plug in?”

“Another time I’ll watch you do it. But yes, I plan to put it in you. Now roll over.”

She followed his instructions, her knees digging into the mattress. He put one knee on the mattress, near her, and then he liberally covered the stainless steel with lube. “Keep your legs apart.” He placed the narrow teardrop-shaped tip against her opening. She was lovely in her submission, and the sight of her completely exposed made his cock throb. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

She laughed, enough to loosen the tension, and he seized the moment. With a swift, sure motion, he sank it all the way in.

She gasped, and her hips jerked, but she settled almost instantly. “It’s cold,” she said.

“Dios. That looks beautiful. I may just always keep your ass full.”

She squirmed.

“And maybe we’ll get you a bigger plug, one that stretches you even wider.”

She turned her head to look at him. “You’re serious?”

“Maybe a glass one.”

“You’re scaring me,” she said. “Again.”

Her voice was breathless. He enjoyed that about her. There was a quality to her voice when fear and trepidation melded into trust. It did strange things to him, appealed to his masculinity, made him want to protect her. He stroked blonde strands of hair back from her face. “You’ll beg me for it, querida.”

“A glass plug?” She turned her head to the side, straining her neck so she could look at him. “I’m going to beg for that?”

“You will,” he promised. He wiggled the stainless plug he’d just inserted, tugging on it, then sinking it back in. “Do you like that?”

“I do. A lot. More than I thought I would.” With a sigh, she whispered, “Fuck me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He helped her onto her back before grabbing a condom. It seemed to take longer than ever to rip open the packet and roll the latex down the length of his shaft.

“I like to look at your cock, Sir.”

He grinned. “I like to have you look at it.” He moved between her legs, poised at the entrance to her pussy. “And touch it.”

“Do you enjoy this?” She showed him what she meant, closing her hand around him tightly.

“Yeah.”

She stroked him, slowly at first, then more vigorously.

His head fell forward. Control threatened to fracture. Propping his weight on one arm, he curled his other hand around hers, stopping her motions. “I want you to jerk me off,” he said. “Later. Right now I want to be inside you while your ass is full of that plug.”

“Take me.”

He needed no second invitation.

She was already wet, and he slid in the first inch effortlessly.

“I can feel the plug,” she said. “It…”

“You okay?”

She inhaled sharply. “Yes.” Then again, more surely, she said, “Yes.”

He entered deeper. Despite the fact that they’d had sex earlier, she was still tight, and the size of the plug made the fit feel even more snug. He forced himself to grit his teeth and pace his strokes, not giving in to her whimpered urgings or his own body’s demands.

He grabbed her wrists and imprisoned them above her head. He loved the way they looked together, his darker skin contrasting with her much lighter tone, his strength complementing her femininity, his dominance made more complete by her sweet submission.

Because he was already on the verge of orgasm, Trace withdrew. He took a moment to recover so he could stay in control, pacing himself while he heightened her arousal to the point where her world would shatter. He pulled one of her nipples into his mouth, biting it with more pressure than he’d used before.

“Trace! That’s…”

“Too much?”

“Fantastic.”

He moved to her other nipple, giving it the same intense attention.

Her head thrashed back and forth, and the sight of her capitulation drove him to the edge. He thrust back into her, riding her hard, wanting her to experience the madness that consumed him.

“I want to come.”

“Beg,” he told her. “Beg.”

“Please? Please, Trace. I can’t…” She whimpered. “I can’t take any more.”

“A few more seconds.” Her body convulsed beneath him. “Now.” He sank his teeth into her shoulder.

She screamed. Her body bucked and trembled. Not for the first time, he thought of how perfect she was for him, strong enough to offer everything he demanded, soft enough to yield to his needs.

After she came, he rode out his own orgasm. He bit out a curse in Spanish. Each climax he had with her was more wrenching than the previous one.

When he finally opened his eyes, she was looking up at him. The color of her eyes was lighter than he had ever seen before. Her mouth was open slightly. Her blonde hair was mussed all over her face. And he was ensnared, as surely as if she’d slapped a pair of unyielding metal handcuffs on him.

After he disposed of the condom, she snuggled against him and drifted off to sleep. He could, maybe should, get up. Instead, he held her. He didn’t question the rightness of having her body pressed against his so trustingly. Nor did he question his own determination to keep her safe.

Maybe a half hour later, he climbed from the bed and went to the living room to dig out a pair of shorts and a fresh T-shirt from his duffel. He had a hard time concentrating on what he was doing.

He skipped socks and stuffed his feet into his running shoes.

After grabbing his gun, he walked through the house, then went into the kitchen. That damn bird growled again. “Tastes like chicken,” Trace said before heading outside to check in with the team.

Aimee sat up in bed and wrapped her arms around her upturned knees, very much aware of the plug still deep inside her.

Dozens of emotions crashed over her.

She was used to sleeping alone, and she liked her sleep, eight hours at a minimum, preferably nine, and on rare occasions, a full ten. This was the first time she’d woken up feeling lonely.

Trace wouldn’t have gone far, but she didn’t hear him moving around. The bedside lamp was still on from earlier, but the rest of the house was dark. Was he on the couch, abandoning her after their hot sex? Had it meant something to her, but not to him?

As silence became more familiar, she became aware of the sound of voices outside. Not just his but others, likely one of the security teams. It reminded her that he had a job to do.

He might fulfill her deepest sexual fantasies, but the moment the assignment ended, he’d move on, maybe to the wilds of a jungle or perhaps a Middle East war zone. She would still be in Denver, Colorado, continuing her work, teaching classes, running every day…alone, remembering him, wondering what he was doing, who he was doing…

Trace had been right to question whether or not they should get involved. Maybe she’d been overly confident in her ability to keep her emotions out of the relationship. And perhaps she’d never met anyone like him before. “Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Damn.”

She swiped away her sudden, stinging tears. Aimee Inamorata was not the kind of woman who felt sorry for herself. Her older sister had made sure of that. Following the death of their parents and then the horrible incident that had happened to her in college, she had become more resolute than ever, taking self-defense classes and learning to shoot a gun. Then, to prove events didn’t define who she was, the older Inamorata had learned to shoot a gun, and joined Hawkeye. She’d insisted that Aimee should be confident in her life, too.

Despite her inner resolve, she wasn’t sure what to do about Trace. The reactions he’d wrung from her when she submitted left her exposed, emotionally vulnerable.

She exhaled shakily.

Being involved with Jack had been devastating. But this could destroy her.

The front door closed and the lock turned, jolting her. Aimee steeled her resolve. She had to keep her emotions walled off from him, no matter how difficult.

He returned to the bedroom smelling of the cool Colorado evening and the tang of seduction.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, querida.”

“You didn’t. Not really. I wasn’t aware of your leaving the bed, but when I turned and you weren’t there…”

“I’m back. I’ll always come back.” He crossed the room and toed off his shoes. He smoothed her hair back from her face. It amazed her how tender he could be. ”How are you feeling? Is the plug okay?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Since you’re awake, I’ll give you two choices of how we can spend our time.”

Her heart picked up a few extra beats.

“Bent over? From behind?” He held her head between his hands and leaned forward to kiss her and her response was immediate, proving how difficult it would be to keep her distance from him.

He drew her lower lip between his teeth, then used his tongue to coax her into opening her mouth. Then he deepened the kiss, probing, seeking. She could have no secrets from him.

Silently communicating his urgency, Trace ended the kiss. After putting the gun on the nightstand, he dropped his clothes. “I can’t get enough of you,” he admitted, his voice as hoarse as her own. “Take my hand.” As she did, he eased her from the bed. Once she was standing, he instructed, “I want you right there.” He pointed to a spot about a foot away.

“Facing you?” she asked when she was in place.

“For now. Spread your legs…as wide as you can.”

She did, and he knelt in front of her. Aimee shivered. Big, strong, powerful Trace Romero was on his knees, with his mouth at her crotch level.

“Just making sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready!”

He looked up at her, capturing her gaze. Then he leaned in and licked her pussy.

“I’m ready, Sir.” It would only take seconds for her to come undone. That was probably his diabolical plan. Wring an orgasm from her, then punish her for it.

She grabbed his shoulders, trying to keep her balance. When he did…that…she could hardly hold herself up.

He spread her labia with one hand. With the other, he toyed with her plug.

“Ready,” she repeated, gasping through gritted teeth. “Really, really ready.”

He kept at it, licking her pussy, changing the amount of pressure on her clit. His touch was magic. He slipped his tongue inside her while he gave a particularly firm tug on her plug. Her whole body was on fire.

She moved her hands, digging her fingers into his hair.

He pulled out the plug even farther, then shoved it in. She was done for.

She screamed as she shattered.

He kept up his maddening motions, dragging a second orgasm from her.

“Now,” he said, looking up at her and grinning, “you’re ready. I’m glad you’re so fit,” he said. “It’ll make it easier for you to stay in position.”

She turned her back to him, and he trailed his fingers down her spine, then into the crack of her rear. Every nerve ending was being singed. This man knew how to touch her, where to touch her, and for how long to touch her.

He grabbed a condom, then moved in behind her to press his cockhead against her pussy. Her breaths came closer and closer together, even though he’d barely started to touch her.

“So hot,” he murmured. “Hot.” He grabbed her hips and held her tight as he pushed inexorably forward.

“It feels…different than anything else has.” It had to be the combination of the position and the fact that she was a little out of control. The blood rush to her head only enhanced the intensity.

He grunted, and she took silent pleasure from the fact that he was turned on. It was something that she had some sort of power over him.

Trace dragged her backward and managed to snake his arm around her middle so he could hold her completely imprisoned while he fucked her. Having him so totally in charge allowed her to shove away her fears and let go. She felt his orgasm building before she heard his deep groan of appreciation.

He held her, and he pounded into her. His cock was hard, pulsing.

She wanted his orgasm as much as he previously demanded hers. He dug his fingers into her, no doubt leaving tiny bruises that she wanted. Finally, when her body was exhausted, he shuddered, climaxing hard, slamming into her.

Aimee expected him to pull away, but he reached around and fingered her while he still had her pussy filled. The intensity of the angle combined with his unyielding and relentless pressure on her clit made her tremble. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Don’t fight me.” His words were a demand.

He still held her, and he made his movements shorter and more intense.

“Come, Aimee.” He slapped her pussy.

The orgasm plowed into her, buckling her knees. He tightened his hold, supporting her closer, letting her know he wouldn’t let her go.

Long moments later, he withdrew. Since she was wobbly, he helped her to the bed.

“Stay there,” he said.

She wasn’t capable of going anywhere for a very long time, even if he were to order it.

A minute later he returned and pressed a warm, damp washcloth to her pussy.

“Relax.”

She closed her eyes, enjoying the small luxury. After soothing her clit and gently wiping her, he used the small cotton towel to remove the plug. She exhaled. “Thank you.”

He crawled in behind her and pulled her close, settling his cock between her ass cheeks before pulling blankets over them both.

“I think I might like this submissive stuff.”

“You think?”

“Maybe,” she said teasingly. “I may need a little more experience to know for sure.”

He reached around and tweaked one of her nipples.

She yelped.

“Then tomorrow, I’ll give you another lesson, and we’ll see how that goes. You can let me know then how it’s working for you.”