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I’ve always thought that Cohen is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. That crooked grin of his, the way his jeans always hang so delectably from his hips—it does something to me.

But I’ve never been more completely consumed by him, by his chiseled body, than I am right now. Somehow, just knowing that I have the power to make him groan desperately, to make his heartbeat quicken and his cock stiffen with even the slightest touch, is making liquid heat pool within my core.

My body is begging for his just as desperately as he’s begging for mine.

“Cohen...Cohen...Cohen...” I whisper his name seductively between the kisses I press against his abdomen and chest. Hands planted on either side of his head, I hover over him, staring down into the eyes that have made me weak in the knees since I was a teenager.

But I don’t feel weak now. I feel anything but weak.

“What am I going to do with you?” I continue to taunt him, pushing my weight onto one hand and letting my other trail softly up the curves of his hip to his firm abdomen and chest. I let my fingernail circle around his nipple, causing it to harden as Cohen moans again.

He’s watching my every move with a predatory gaze, and his hands are fisted, knuckles white from the pressure he’s putting on them by pulling at his restraints. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he chokes out.

I can hear the strain in his voice, feel the twitch of his hardness against my inner thigh where I’m pressed against him.

His need is pulsing through him. Boiling in his veins.

I lean forward and kiss him gently, then press my finger against his lips before whispering, “Me too.”

I don’t look away as I reach between us and pull my lace panties to the side. I could stop, take the moment to climb off him and undress properly...

But I want Cohen, and I want him now.

My tongue darts across my lips as I watch his mouth open slightly, his eyes fluttering as I encircle his rigid erection in my hand and slowly guide him inside me.

I let out a breath at the same moment he groans, a wordless sigh of relief falling from both of our mouths as he enters me. I lower myself onto him, feeling every solid inch invade me.

“Oh God.” The words leave me before I realize I’ve said them.

“Jesus, Vi, you’re wet.”

“That’s what you do to me.” I sit up straighter, still watching every muscle and tendon clench and bunch in his arms and chest as I rock my hips tentatively. The sensation is a flood of erotic agony, my body urging me to continue and push myself closer to the release I desire so completely. “Tell me how it feels,” I add breathlessly, rocking to feel his length push deep inside me again.

“Like heaven,” he sighs. ‘Like fucking heaven.”

I let my head fall back slightly and my eyes close, picking up the rhythm of my hips. I roll my hips again...again...again in perfect synchronicity with Cohen’s, unaware of everything in that moment except the soft grunts he makes as I force him inside of me, the tight clenching of my own muscles around his cock, and the rhythm and sensations that are leaving me feeling intoxicated.

“Vi, let me touch you.” The rattle of the headboard makes my eyes open, and I stare down at Cohen, only to see his fingers fumbling with the tie, pulling and twisting in attempt to get out of it. His fiery gaze blazes into mine. “Vi—”

“No,” I answer simply, pressing my hands firmly against his chest to give myself more leverage. I grind against him, harder, more urgently. His cock thrusts inside my slick pussy with more fervor. The combination of pleasure and pain makes me gasp, but I’m determined to have Cohen all to myself.

“Vi—” There’s a warning in his tone.

I know Cohen too well. He wants to be able to control this. He wants my body pressed against his as he pushes me to the limit, taking me and wringing my orgasm from me with pure strength and will.

But I’m the one who can control this now. Control him now.

“Come for me, Cohen.”

He’s panting hard as I clench my thighs against his hips and rock forward, harder and faster. Every pulse and twitch of his cock buried inside me is like a lightning bolt of sexual desire crashing against my resolve. “Vi, don’t—”

“I said let it go, Cohen.” Each breath comes from my throat in a desperate whimper, but my eyes are fixated on his. I can see it, the impending shadow in his eyes, the tightening of his muscles...

The wave of sweet release he’s losing control of, unable to keep it at bay.

My nails dig into his chest as I clench around him viciously. I’m relentless, pounding our hips together, burying him so deep inside me that I cry out with each thrust.

But I don’t look away. I can’t. Can’t miss the moment Cohen Bradley succumbs to me. I won’t.

“Vienna—”

He doesn’t get the rest of the words growled out before his hips buck, only driving his cock deeper into me as his release overtakes him. My name is followed by a curse word on his lips as I continue to fuck him, continue to drain every ounce of desire and energy from him.

I lean forward and grip his shoulder to hold on, reaching down between us with my other hand to rub at my own clit furiously. I’m on the edge, barely hanging on to my own self control.

In mere seconds, my core clenches violently around Cohen’s cock as my own release collides with his, and I gasp his name as I let the intense sensation consume me.

Even as the aftershocks of my orgasm continue to cause shudders and trembling within my body, I refuse to let up until I’m just as spent and exhausted as Cohen. I slump forward, hands still pressed against the damp skin of his chest, face nuzzled into the crook of his throat. The heaving of my chest slowly subsides, and my heart rate slows to a normal pace.

“Fuck,” I whisper, shocked at my antics. At my insatiability.

“That, you did.” Cohen’s voice is thick, all remnants of his earlier intensity gone. “Vi?”

I don’t even lift my head. “Yeah?”

“Will you untie me now?”

I very ungracefully climb off him, and I can barely make my fingers work properly as I fumble with the knots and release his hands from the restraints. My eyelids are heavy, my body already aching from the feverishness of my efforts.

“I really thought you were going to fall asleep and leave me tied up,” he teases, pulling me against him with one arm. I nestle in beside him, letting his strong arm envelope me.

“Thought about it,” I joke feebly.

His chest constricts with the scoff he answers me with.

I’m beginning to doze off into a physically exhausted slumber when he speaks again.

“Well, what got into you?”

It’s my turn to suppress a laugh, letting my fingertips trace over the lines and contours of his abdomen. “Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” he replies on a sigh. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“Well then. I’ll be keeping that mind.”

His arm pulls me tighter against him, his fingers trailing along the outer part of my arm. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I guess I was just taking out my frustrations on you.”

Cohen moves under me, enough that I lift my head to see what he’s up to. When I do, he’s looking at me squarely, an eyebrow arched. “And which frustrations would those be?”

This time, I don’t even try to hide it. I laugh sarcastically. “You’re kidding, right?” I sit up, tugging the covers with me, affronted by his tone. “Your ex-wife shows up at our engagement party, which also happens to be a party completely taken over by your overbearing mother, and you don’t get why I’m frustrated?”

“You can let that go anytime. You could’ve let me handle it, Vi,” he states, his jaw suddenly tight. “Not to mention you could’ve handled it a little better, too. People were staring.”

My eyes are wide. “Those people weren’t even supposed to be invited in the first place!”

“Calm down—”

“And how would you have handled it if Garrett had shown up?” I bite out the words venomously. It’s a low blow, seeing as Garrett’s not only my ex but also the reason we broke up and parted ways for ten years, but I’m pissed. It seems not even an explosive orgasm and a little BDSM can cure that.

“You know what? We don’t need to discuss this right now. Not after we just—”

“You’re right,” I snap. ‘We don’t.” I push him away from me and pull angrily at the blanket in my hand. Cohen climbs from the bed when he realizes I’m doing the same, which allows me to pull the blanket free and wrap it snugly under my arms.

“Where are you going, Vi?” He sounds at his wit’s end, like he’s dealing with an unruly child, and it only fuels my rage more.

I pull the blanket across the floor with me toward the door. “Earlier tonight, I thought for sure you were going to avoid me and just crash on the couch downstairs.” I grab the door handle on my way out, turning to give him one last icy glare. “Turns out, the couch is mine tonight. And after such a memorable evening, too. Goodnight, Cohen.”

I slam the door shut without another word.