Winter sighed as his tongue stroked her clit. With only a few strokes she was already approaching orgasm, her fourth of the night. When he got her to three, he’d set her personal record for most orgasms in a single night with a partner. It seemed fitting that he would dethrone her last boyfriend. Even without more orgasms tonight had been the best sex of her life.

It would be enough to fuel her fantasies for months.

That thought muted some of her pleasure, because it made her remember that tonight was all they had. Suddenly she was desperate to know what time it was. How much longer did she have with him?

He saved her from that miserable train of thought when he pulled at the plug while simultaneously licking her clit.

She jumped as he tugged it, stretching her from within.

“Shh.” The sound vibrated against her sex and made her hum in needy pleasure.

He pulled the plug out, holding it so she was stretched around the widest part of it. Win clenched her teeth as what had been slow, warm arousal spiked into molten-hot need.

“Please,” she moaned. “Oh, Edward, please.”

He pressed the plug back in, and scraped his teeth along her clit.

She yelped, her pussy spasming in response to the hard stimulation. He withdrew the plug, once more holding it so it was stretching her. Then he reached under her with his free hand.

She twisted her neck to look at his hand. It held the chain connecting the clamps.

He wasn’t going to...

He sucked on her clit, yanked the clamps off her nipples, and pulled the plug free, all at once.

Winter screamed as she came, nails scratching across the blanket, eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t stop sucking her clit, and the orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of blistering pleasure making her realize that every orgasm that had come before this one was pale in comparison, as if she’d lived in a world of shades of gray that had become suddenly, wondrously technicolor.

“No more, no more,” she begged at one point, her whole body so sensitive that even the brush of air over her skin seemed too much. In response he squeezed her aching ass, reminding her of her punishment. Reminding her that she was his.

Only for tonight.

Another orgasm, or maybe it was a fresh spike of pleasure in the same unending bliss, muted that thought. Winter’s leg muscles started to shake, but she didn’t beg him to stop. She submitted, trusted him, and let herself revel in the exquisite pleasure he was giving her.

When he pulled away, she was sweaty and limp. He helped her lay flat on her stomach, then roll to her side.

Win’s face was wet with tears, her body occasionally wracked by a pleasure aftershock.

Edward lifted her off the ottoman, holding her in his arms.

“Another first,” she murmured. “No one has ever carried me before.”

He kissed her head, then lay her on the bed. A moment later he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She didn’t protest as he cleaned her sex and ass, as he carefully examined her nipples, then rolled her over to inspect her ass.

She protested when he laid the comforter over her and started to get off the bed. “No,” she pleaded. “Stay with me.”

He hesitated for a moment, then lay down beside her, his hand on her ass, though all she could feel was the weight of it due to the comforter that separated them.

Edward watched the clock, each moment that ticked by filling him with dread. At 9:55 pm he slid off the bed. Winter shifted, rolling onto her side to watch him.

He fetched her dress, underwear, and shoes, then brought them into the bedroom and lay them out on the bench at the foot of the bed. Then he crouched, reaching across the mattress to touch her cheek one last time.

“Thank you, Winter, for allowing me to top you. You were beautiful, perfect. I think that, if you want it, BDSM could be a fulfilling experience for you.”

Her lashes lowered. “We’re done?”

He checked the clock. “In one minute, yes. I’m going to leave you to get dressed.”

Edward rose and walked out of the bedroom, giving her privacy. He closed the door behind himself

He stood there, listening to the sound of the covers rustling as she got out of bed. His stomach felt like there was a lead ball in it. There was no post-scene peace and contentment the way there should have been. Instead he was fighting the urge to run back in there, toss her on the bed, and fuck her again and again until she wouldn’t have the strength to walk out the door.

He heard the handle start to turn and jerked away from the door, turned to face it.

Winter was fully dressed—looking just as lovely as she had before. Her hair was up. He wanted it down. Wanted it dancing over her naked flesh.

“Thank you,” he repeated. “For allowing me to top you.”

She swallowed, the long naked line of her throat looking so deliciously vulnerable. “This is it?”

“Yes, princess.” He caught himself, shook his head. “I’m sorry. Yes, Winter. This is it. Per our agreement, our time together ends at 10 pm.”

She searched his face, and she looked so sad. “What if...what if I want to do this again?”

His heart leapt, but it would be unconscionable to arrange a second session while she was still coming down from this one. A good Dom made sure his sub was not being influenced by any residual pleasure or feelings of submission when they arranged their next meeting. He had to be extra careful, extra attentive to the rules, since she was new. “That’s not something we should discuss now.”

She looked down. “Oh.”

He couldn’t stay here with her. If he did, he’d touch her, and if he did that he’d break every rule. He went to the small closet near the door and took out his suit jacket. “I’ll leave you the suite. Please feel free to order dinner. Checkout is automatic.”

“Edward...”

He shrugged on his jacket. “It was a pleasure, Winter.”

He opened the door and stepped out into the hall, letting the heavy door thunk closed behind him. He turned to stare at the closed door, his stomach in knots. Damn it. He hated this. He wanted to be in there with her, but he would be a complete ass to stay. If he stayed past the agreed upon time, if he tried to use her current emotional state to influence her to agree to another session, he would teach her that he couldn’t be trusted, that Doms couldn’t be trusted. He didn’t want that.

He wanted Winter Storm—his beautiful princess with the eyes that matched her name. He wanted her so much that he would walk away now, and pray that once she’d come down from the scene she’d still want to do it again.