Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Present day

EARTH to Elise.” Axel snapped his fingers.

His words didn’t jar her back to the present, but the sharp sound following did. Mystery started and blinked at him. Crap, how long had she been drifting into the past?

He couldn’t begin to imagine how done she was waiting for him. Just being in the same room with him excited her beyond belief—unlike the last time they’d shared space.

After he’d rejected her in the old hotel’s bar, Mystery had felt two inches tall. She didn’t think he’d intended to hurt her feelings as much as he’d wanted to put distance between them. In retrospect, she would have turned herself down, too. She’d been a stupid kid playing adult games. And she hadn’t been in the right mind-set for sex. He’d known that. But his rebuff had dented her pride and wounded her heart. She’d stomped up the stairs to bed, expecting to spend a few hours alone to cry out her confusion and heartache. Instead, he’d followed right behind her and plopped himself onto the chair in the corner, then spread his big-ass gun across his lap.

She’d been so pissed off that he’d denied her the privacy of a good cry.

A couple of hours later, he’d awakened her fully dressed. He’d handed her the bra and panties he’d washed for her and instructed her to get her clothes on. Ten minutes later, they’d been walking through the desert, lit only by the moonlight, neither saying a word.

As dawn broke, they’d walked into Keeler and were spotted by an elderly man, who kindly let them borrow his phone. Fifteen minutes later, the Inyo County Sheriff’s Department showed up, sirens blaring, and took her back to her father. She hadn’t seen Axel much during questioning, just long enough for him to ask her to keep his name out of the press and to wish her well.

A media circus ensued afterward. Her picture had been plastered everywhere. She’d hidden in her house for weeks, waiting for the frenzy to die down. Her father had hired her a publicist and an agent . . . then drowned himself in a new starlet. She’d been approached to write her story for millions of dollars by publishers and TV producers. Mystery had refused them. She didn’t want to recount for the world how stupid she’d been.

And she’d never heard from Axel again.

The other dark cloud hanging over her memory? Her abduction had never been solved. Her captor had been identified as a thug for hire with a record a mile long, but they’d never managed to figure out who had paid him to kidnap her or why. Her father had freaked out, convinced that his celebrity had been to blame, that someone wanting to extort money or kick-start their fifteen minutes of fame had taken her. In the absence of a better theory, it made sense. He’d insisted they move elsewhere, and had been prepping to shoot a film in London. Mystery had tagged along, and they’d never left.

In the ensuing six and a half years, she’d put the incident behind her, stopped having nightmares, and managed to move forward again. She’d finished university, three cozy mysteries with a hip flair, the most recent of which would be published in June. She’d learned self-defense, taken up yoga, and begun to live with purpose. She’d succeeded at everything she attempted—except having a full love life.

She’d never, ever been able to forget Axel or stop wondering what if things had been different . . .

He grinned, flashing his dimples. “You’re an interesting little flirt.”

Interesting? Mystery wasn’t sure if that was a rebuke or a compliment. “Surely you didn’t bring me here simply to figure me out.”

Fear struck to the bottom of her heart, but she plastered on her best poker face and tried to laugh it off. “You don’t have to feed me a pick-up line. I’m already here.”

Before he could respond, she wriggled off the counter and landed on her feet, brushing up against him. She knew Axel preferred to be in charge, but damn it, she couldn’t give him too much time to think. And she didn’t want to wait anymore.

Mystery reached for the hem of her tank top, then pulled it over her head in one fluid move. As she flung the cotton onto the counter behind her, she heard him suck in a sharp breath and found him staring at her plump mounds spilling from her underwire lingerie.

Yeah, if you like this lacy black bra, wait until you see the matching thong.

If that was true, why wouldn’t he take a bite out of her? She cupped her breasts in offering and leaned closer. Instead of grabbing her by the hand and hauling her to his bedroom to promptly strip her down and plunge inside her, he grabbed her shoulders and drilled his stare into her.

When he clasped her hand and hauled her out of the kitchen, she wondered where they were headed. It didn’t take long before she realized he really did want to cuddle on the couch. He sat on a sleek gray sectional and pulled her into his lap. On the bright side, she felt his very insistent erection against her hip. The huge drawback? He wanted to talk. The longer they chatted, the more time he had to figure out who she truly was.

He tossed his head back and laughed. “Somehow, I doubt that. And the more you push me, the more I’m going to drag this out. So give over and tell me all about you.”

Mystery believed him. He hadn’t hopped into bed with her simply because he could years ago. Apparently, nothing had changed. “I’m twentysomething and single, educated, and tired of European men. I’m here on vacation and fascinated by you.”

More than one flippant answer streamed through her head, but she’d been mostly stupid and impatient today. If she wanted him, she had to put a hold on her hormones and her heart. She had to use her damn head.

He raised a brow at her as his hand slid down her waist, over her hip, caressed her thigh. Mystery didn’t feel just a shiver roll over her skin; his touch shook her whole body.

If he only knew . . .

She probably shouldn’t ask because he’d start dissecting his reasons and replay their meet in his head. Who knew where that would take his thoughts? But she was too desperate for the answer to keep her mouth shut.

She let out a slow breath. Intriguing and amusing she could handle. Him guessing her identity would make this whole evening go south. Mystery felt somewhat guilty for tricking him. He didn’t want her then, and if he knew who she was, she doubted he’d want her now. But she honestly didn’t know how else to move on with her life. She no longer had any taste for vain actors, party-hardy musicians, or “regular” but starstruck men. Mystery seemed completely stuck on Axel.

He let her, cupping her nape to bring her closer. He sank past her lips with a groan, his tongue seeking hers for a sensual slide as his palm found its way up her abdomen, then paused just below her breast. Soon—finally—Axel Dillon would actually be more intimate with her than a kiss. Mystery wanted to arch into his hand until he palmed her breast, but she knew he wouldn’t give her what she wanted simply because she wanted it. So she waited, hoping, unable to catch her breath. Even the thought of his touch made her light-headed.

Instead, he leaned back and stared into her face, as if trying to figure her out. No, as if trying to figure out who she was.

Time to distract him—fast.

She repositioned herself on his lap until she straddled him and pressed her sex against the ridge of his hard cock. Gyrating over his erection, she arched her back and thrust her breasts closer to his mouth. He braced his big hands around her waist and ground her onto his thick staff with a groan. As a thrill reverberated through her body, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her breasts bounced free, and she brushed one of her nipples across his lips.

Axel took her face in his big hands. “You want to show me?”

She nodded too quickly, aware that she was making the same mistake she had more than once—throwing herself at him. But damn it, this man made her lose all self-control. “Please tell me you want to see me.”

Mystery wasn’t at all surprised when he took control. She’d expected it, hoped for it. Since he’d divulged the fact that he was Dominant, she’d done some reading and talking to people in the lifestyle. She probably only knew enough to be dangerous, but what she’d learned had prepared her to roll with his commands.

On shaking legs, she backed off his lap and rose to her feet in front of him, wearing her jeans and sandals and not much else.

She knew he asked if she’d ever dabbled in BDSM. After the lies she’d already told him, she wanted to stick with as much of the truth as possible. “Not personally. I know something about it, though.”

He sat up straighter with a long, slow smile. “Looks like my afternoon just got more interesting. You wearing panties?”

She nodded, then remembered he liked verbal responses. “Yes, Axel.”

Mystery nearly bit her tongue after that. Crap, she didn’t need to jog his memory about their days together in Death Valley. On the other hand, how many women since then had given him their assent to do his worst using just those words? She tried not to answer herself.

He cocked his head again. “Compliant. But I still see your head working. Interesting . . . Strip off everything but the panties.”

She probably should have thought of it sooner, but he didn’t have a single drape covering the windows, and the blinds had been opened all the way to their casings, leaving the glass bare. Houses surrounded him. Could any of his neighbors see inside his place?

In short, no one would be able to sneak a cheap peek—or snapshot—of her. Mystery dragged in a steadying breath and thought the situation through once more. “I don’t think so.”

Mystery didn’t make a striptease out of his command. After all, she wanted to make love with him, not give him a lap dance.

After she kicked off her shoes, she found unbuttoning her pants, lowering the zipper, and peeling the denim down her hips a little unnerving. He watched her with that intent, almost unblinking stare, as if nothing in the world could break his concentration. After she’d overheard a woman in a pub just last week complain that a guy she’d picked up had actually been texting his boss while pumping inside her, Mystery found Axel’s single-mindedness so sexy.

The jeans fell past her knees, and she stepped out of them. She trembled all over, and he could have no illusions that she was cold, not with these warm temperatures. She felt almost naked, and his stare raked every inch of her. Had he noticed that her panties were sheer? That she’d waxed bare?

He scooted to the edge of the sofa and leaned forward, his face less than a foot from her pussy. “Come closer.”

Her knees nearly knocked together as she inched toward him. He kept gesturing her in his direction, and she shuffled nearer until he curled a hand around her thigh to stay her.

Axel didn’t speak right away. He hadn’t done anything more than kiss and look at her, so his thumb sliding across the thin, transparent fabric over the pad of her pussy made her gasp.

He lifted his thumb, and since he’d pressed the panties to her flesh, Mystery couldn’t miss the way the soaking cloth clung. “I am.”

His smile widened. “I like that even more.”

And when he raised his thumb to his mouth and licked it, she felt absolutely faint. Oh, holy crap . . .

His words ripped an almost visceral arousal through her. For a shocking moment, she couldn’t speak. She wanted this man so much. In the past, sex had been mostly about curiosity or combating boredom or because she hoped she’d find someone who flipped her switch more than Axel.

Now she knew better.

He gripped her hips and tugged her closer, then lapped his tongue directly against the filmy mesh shielding her pussy.

* * *

Axel didn’t bother to hold in his satisfied smile. He had more than a few reasons to be suspicious of not-Elise. She’d singled him out in a bar that obviously wasn’t her type of joint with seduction on her mind. He didn’t worry for his safety, his “fortune,” or any blackmail opportunities. The vibe she gave off was more eager than nefarious.

Originally, he’d taken her up on her offer because she was a beautiful woman with all the right curves who looked in desperate need of corrupting. And she’d be an interesting riddle to solve. Axel knew himself too well. If he’d let her go without exploring who she was and what she wanted, it would bug him to no end.

Time to see what the hell she was up to. Then he’d find out what she knew about submission and exactly how much of herself she was willing to give him.

She complied right away, stopping after a one-eighty turn and presenting him a view of her backside, covered only by the tiniest triangle of fabric at the small of her back. If her ass wasn’t the most luscious he’d ever seen in his entire fucking life, it was in the top two. High, firm, round . . . Lust dropped another dose of desire into his already saturated system. The dainty bow perched on each hip only accentuated her tiny waist above the womanly flare of her hips. He already knew her natural breasts would be damn close to a perfect handful—a shock since he was a man with big hands.

The woman flipped a nervous stare over her shoulder. “Axel?”

Once he touched and kissed it . . . Hell, once he paddled and fucked it, he’d be a happy man.

She shuffled back to him, and he wanted to drown in that untapped sexuality she dripped. Her body looked ripe for satisfaction but everything about her told him she hadn’t really ever found it. For some reason, he loved the thought of being the man to give her all she craved.

But he also couldn’t shut off the analytical side of his brain. Why did she look familiar? She was in her mid-twenties, give or take a couple of years. Her British accent was almost flawless, but every once in a while, she’d slip up with an ah sound in place of an o vowel—a distinctly American quality. Her skin was unlike a fair English rose’s. The olive of her complexion suited the pretty oval of her face and the smooth satin covering her body, all the way down to that perfect ass. She wore too much makeup, and he’d like it gone so he could really see her. And he’d bet her hair wasn’t any shade of red, but something darker, glossier. Brunettes turned him on, always had.

Most every guy he knew would ask him why the fuck he bothered questioning a beauty so willing to go to bed with him. Axel didn’t like unanswered questions. His gut told him to keep digging.

Finally, the woman reached him, and he dragged his knuckles across the firm globes of her backside. Arousal gripped his chest, tightened his groin. He cupped her butt in his hands, thumbs brushing from the insides of her thighs and up her soft crease.

Maybe he should fuck her now and ask questions later.

She jumped, seemingly rattled by his soft caress.

Her little gasp went straight to his dick. He did it again. This time, he watched her squirm, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, as if trying to create a little friction in her pussy to ease the ache.

Axel gripped her hips. “Don’t be a bad girl. Stand still. Spread your legs.”

She gave him a whimper that told him she clearly understood giving in meant the end of any possible relief, but she still did it.

With his hands on her hips, well . . . that touchable ass just begged for his fingers and palms. How could he turn that down?

Axel plucked at the bow over her left hip. The barely there wisp of black cloth fell, revealing one hip completely, along with more of her succulent butt. As he caressed the skin he’d just exposed with one hand, he tugged on the bow over her other hip. Instantly, her thong fell into a heap between her feet. His first view of her bare ass made him suck in an oh-holy-fuck breath.

Rounder than he’d originally thought, her cheeks protruded, juicy and ripe and ready for his plucking. No doubt about it, he intended to bend her over the nearest piece of furniture and have his wicked way with her before the night ended.

He adjusted his stiff cock in his jeans. His hormones seemed to be having a temper tantrum that he wasn’t balls deep inside her yet. He’d fix that right quick—as soon as they got a few other things out of the way.

She turned and looked down at him. Her blue eyes seemed almost too brilliant . . . not quite real. Another glance at her face told him that red definitely wasn’t her natural color. When the color of the drapes had been altered, he could usually tell what nature had given her by checking the carpet. Axel stared at her bare pussy for the first time. Plump, a deep flushed rosy that pouted for his attention, like the side of a ripe peach. He could see every pore and every goose bump because she’d removed all hint of the carpet here. And she hadn’t simply shaved. No stubble to impede the flow of his tongue or reveal the coloring nature had given her. But Axel didn’t worry. The night was young. He’d figure her out.

He dragged a finger from her navel down to her cleft. Her entire body jolted. She shuddered. Moisture coated his finger. Her clit was already hard.

Why would a woman as gorgeous as this one be so hungry for sex? Certainly, she could get any heterosexual man to fuck her just by crooking her finger. For that matter, he’d found over the years that women tended to be more responsive with men they knew, trusted, cared for. Was that why she hadn’t found anyone to satisfy her? But then, why choose him? She didn’t know the first fucking thing about him beyond his name and address. Hell, he’d had more intimate verbal exchanges with his insurance agent, and yet not-Elise seemed incredibly eager to slide between his sheets. She just got more intriguing, and Axel wanted to solve her. But with every second, his hunger rose. He definitely had to fuck her and relieve some of this crazy tension she’d built inside him first.

He stood, steadying her against him with a firm grip on her hips. He looked down at her, and that pleading look in her eyes went straight to his cock. He could imagine her on her knees, at his mercy, begging him with that stare. Everything about her revved his libido, but that expression . . . Shit.

He took her hand and led her out of the TV room, down the hall, stopping only when they’d reached the side of his sleigh bed. He hadn’t made it this morning, and his beige sheets were tangled up with his chocolate comforter. Not-Elise didn’t seem to give a shit about his décor or his lack of tidiness.

Instead, she inched in front of him and fingered the hem of his T-shirt, her fingertips brushing his abdomen. God, she really did have some of the most delectable breasts. He’d been so busy looking at her ass that he’d missed out on something special. Wow.

At once, he had two thoughts. First, she’d learned already that demanding would get her nowhere with him. And second, that if he didn’t get naked with her soon, he’d fucking explode.

Axel grabbed the hem and yanked the black cotton from his chest, tossing it across the room. He took hold of her wrists and fastened them onto his pecs. He wanted her touch, needed to feel her skin, her desire.

The beauty curled her fingers into his flesh, urgent, seeking. Her mouth fell open. Her face filled with something like wonder, and Axel couldn’t figure out for the life of him why something so basic should seem so new to her. No freaking way she could be a virgin.

He tucked a finger under her chin. “I need you to be honest with me. You’ll do that, yes?”

She flinched, then tried to cover it with a faint smile. “I’ll do my best.”

Not a perfect reply, and certainly not the one he wanted, but she didn’t understand the rules—yet.

She recoiled. “Why?”

Her answer made sense, but Axel still wanted to press her for details. She insisted she had sexual experience, but her jumpiness seemed like more than typical nerves. All these incongruities just kept mounting in his head . . .

He tried being brutally honest with her. “I seriously don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who intrigued me as much as you. And you’ve got the most beautiful body I’ve ever touched.”

She wrinkled her nose in disagreement.

Without hesitation, she tilted her face up to him, her expression wide open in offering. Her desire to give to him was absolute, so pure it reached inside his chest and tugged.

He’d spent so long helping Sweet Pea, Club Dominion’s submissive receptionist, scaling the walls of her defenses so he could tear them down. No matter how much she wanted to submit her all so she’d be ready for the day she met her One, he always hit her hard emotional limit well before her physical one. It frustrated him. It frustrated her. He often wondered if he couldn’t reach her because they were friends—lovers on those rare occasions she needed to be held—but they weren’t in love.

Never had Sweet Pea offered him the sort of complete, unvarnished sincerity this woman presented right now. She might be lying to him about her name and why she’d come to his favorite beer dive. But her expression gave him a glimpse inside the gates to her soul.

Why?

Her thumb flicked across his nipple as she explored every bulge and ridge of his torso. She caressed his shoulders, skated her fingertips down his ribs, bisected his abs with one nail, and flirted dangerously close with the screaming head of his cock, trying to make its way out of his jeans.

His every muscle went taut as she continued with her casual touches. The innocent way she attempted to learn his body, as if being with him was a wonder and the moment they shared felt reverent to her. He’d agreed to a one-night stand . . . but she wasn’t treating it as a throwaway at all. On some level being with this woman whose name he didn’t actually know felt important, which made no sense at all.

He grabbed her wrist before desire overwhelmed his better sense and he threw her onto the bed and fucked her senseless. They’d get there soon; he’d make sure of it.

Axel lifted her hand to his neck. As if she’d read his mind, she curled her slender fingers around him, caressed her way over his shoulder and eased closer, that lush mouth falling just under his. She parted her rosy lips, and her lids slid shut. At once, she managed to look both eager and beautiful. When she rose up on her tiptoes, his patience ended.

Gripping her shoulders, Axel swooped down and claimed her mouth. He took more than a brush of lips, wouldn’t be satisfied with a simple caress. No, he lifted one hand to cup her jaw and apply just enough pressure to force her mouth open for him. He delved deep, fascinated by her taste—complex and addicting. Just being this near her made his head swim, his blood tingle. Some instinct kicked him in the gut, telling him this moment was significant and he’d better drink it in.

He could analyze that to death and probably would—later. Right now, the most fascinating, willing woman stood naked in his bedroom, melting against him. Jesus, she had the softest skin, too. Her proposition had been one hell of a turn-on, but the minute he’d touched her, she’d downshifted and put herself in his hands.

As he slanted his mouth the other way for deeper penetration, her flavor assailed him again. She groaned into their kiss as his tongue tangled with hers. At the sound, his knees went the way of his head—suddenly unstable, floating, not quite functioning.

He groped for the nearby bed, then toppled her onto it. He didn’t bother lying beside her. Fuck that. He settled her against him, then rolled her directly under him, spreading her legs with a shove of his thighs. She didn’t give him a single iota of fight.

The few seconds his lips had been away from hers seemed like a torturous decade, and he sent his mouth crashing onto hers again. She yielded in welcome, which both soothed and baited the hungry beast inside him. What was it about this woman that lit his body on fire? That had his libido doing a happy dance?

As if he could only find the answer inside her, Axel thrust his way into her mouth again and gripped her hips, arching the length of his weeping cock against her bare pussy, cursing the denim keeping them apart. Some distant part of his brain calculated how long it would take him to rip open his fly and find a condom. Before he could compute the answer, his beauty arched into him, pressing her hard nipples to his chest, rubbing her sex against his own as if desperate for relief. And the freaking little whimpers she made in her throat short-circuited his brain. His restraint died a quick death.

She panted, her eyes wide and clinging. “Can you make it less than thirty?”

Oh, fuck. “I’ll go for ten.”

He stumbled to his feet, shoving his jeans and underwear off, then kicking them aside. In his nightstand, he fumbled for a condom and wondered why the hell he was as excited as a teenager with his first girlfriend. The urgency ripped fire through him like an aphrodisiac, sizzling his skin.

Axel had no doubt this woman was about to rock his world—and he wasn’t even sure why.

He tore open the foil and rolled the condom down his length. His gorgeous supplicant wasn’t helping when she sat up and ran her fingers down his abdomen, his thighs, then his buttocks as she leaned in, kissing and nipping at his hips, his thighs. When she laved his balls with a low little moan, he fucking lost his mind.

Axel pushed her to her back and spread her legs. “You want to play dirty?”

His urge to dominate warred with his need to be buried balls deep. He gritted his teeth, then pushed her farther across the bed and fell to the mattress between her spread legs, his mouth hovering just over her cunt.

Her breath caught. “What happened to ten seconds? Those are up.”

At his touch, her entire body tensed. When she tried to lift her hips to him, he held her down.

She tossed her head back, melting into his mattress. “Please, Axel. Don’t make me wait. It already feels as if I’ve waited forever.”

Perversely, that only made him want to torture her more. “Poor baby. Patience a problem for you?”

She cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples. “I ache. Everywhere.”

Her high, thready voice slammed his libido. But the visual of her fondling her own flesh in a desperate search for relief rocketed his desire to soaring, new heights. Holy hell, if he’d ever wanted a woman so badly he was damn near ready to climb out of his skin and crawl over jagged glass to have her, he didn’t remember it.

Still, she didn’t get to control the tempo and timing of their sex. She especially didn’t get to control him. He grabbed her hands and forced them to her sides, holding each beside her corresponding hip.

She protested with a wail and spread her legs wider. “Please. Don’t make me wait. I’ve never felt this way. I don’t know how to . . .”

Surprise widened her eyes. She hadn’t thought he’d want her the same way in return? Had some douchebag belittled her in the past? Refused her harshly? That dude’s loss was his precious gain.

Then her scent wafted up to him and brain function shut down. He had to have her flavor on his tongue now or he’d go in-fucking-sane.

Pinning her wrists beside her, he bent and raked his tongue through her slit, through her swollen folds, all the way from the soft, juicy opening he couldn’t wait to sink his cock into, up to the candy clit so sweetly hard for him, it jolted another spark of need through his system.

Under him, she twisted. He repeated the motion, this time more slowly, lingering on the needy bud of her nerves and toying with it, using the tip of his tongue, the edge of his teeth, the suction of his mouth. She cried out, thrashing, but he kept her immobile under his bigger body, holding her still for his pleasure.

Something about the way she said his name in that pleading, high-pitched keen had his blood boiling. It wasn’t about power or a need to control. With most any woman, he could hold a part of himself away and almost clinically determine a tactical plan to dismantle her defenses and take her body apart before systematically implementing his strategy and enjoying the victory of conquering her with orgasms. This woman dragged him into a need that sucked him under like quicksand. The more he fought for control, the less he had. Yes, he wanted her pleasure. Hell, he wanted her screaming as she dug her nails in his back and shattered for him. But planning a sensual conquering was the farthest thing from his mind. Right now, he couldn’t manage much more than lapping at her pussy like a starving man at an ambrosia buffet.

The soft, sweet perfection of her filled his mouth. Everything about her—every texture, flavor, sensation—addicted him. He’d been interested in the bar, intrigued as they made their way to his house and kissed in the kitchen, but now he’d fucking die if he didn’t have her frantic and clawing and taking every inch of him.

Under his hungry mouth, her flesh swelled even more. She tensed. Her fists flailed, grabbed at the sheets. A series of gasps, each higher-pitched than the last, juiced his need and melted his resolve.

He shoved a finger inside her, groaning as her tight flesh parted for his invasion like slick silk, then sucked at him in a silent plea. Jesus, she was going to dismantle him with this pussy, and he couldn’t wait.

Axel wanted to be inside her when he gave her this first orgasm. And he damn well knew it wouldn’t be the last.

With one last lave of her twitching clit, he climbed up her body, anchoring his hips between her thighs. Elbows on either side of her head, he took her mouth and probed her pussy with his searching cock. She spread even wider for him, lifted up, helpful and welcoming, silently begging. Dizziness swarmed his head. Jesus, she was headier than the best buzz.

His heart pounded, his blood surged as Axel pushed at her opening, insistently trying to bury himself in the juicy heat. But her cunt felt tighter than a vise. He’d barely managed to wedge more than the head inside her when the grip of her flesh impeded him from submerging deeper.

It wasn’t enough. In that moment, he wondered if he’d ever get enough of her.

The thought had barely finished blindsiding him before she exhaled and forced her body to relax. He sank in a bit more, then retracted, coating his stiff length with more of her delicious essence before he pushed in again—and again.

Slowly, her body yielded to him. Her thoughts and her desire had given way to him long ago. Now he merely fought the head-spinning clutch of her cunt grabbing at his stiff length. She made him work for every inch she ceded. She milked his flesh, squirming all over his cock, before her body seized up again. The incredible struggle only dragged him closer to the edge of his own pleasure, and he could see the giant chasm of ecstasy right before him.

Damn it, he had to fuck her first. Good and hard, in some way leaving his mark on her so she could never forget that he’d been here and taken her thoroughly. He liked the hell out of that idea.

As Axel surged forward again, determined to plant every aching inch of his cock inside her, she surrendered a bit more. Everything about her made him need to conquer her, to say he’d filled, claimed, taken. Made her give him absolutely every bit of herself to him.

She arched, keened again. She’d be a screamer, he’d bet, and he couldn’t wait to hear her cries in his ear as she burst into ecstasy around his cock.

She panted and opened her eyes, staring up at him with a wonder that damn near stopped his heart. She wasn’t a virgin. Despite her tightness, he could attest to that fact. But her expression told him that, in some way, she was experiencing pleasure for the very first time.

That yanked him off the chain so fucking fast, Axel didn’t even have time to tell himself to slow down before he grabbed her nape, holding her gaze captive, and began pounding into her relentlessly.

She lit him up like a live wire, as if, through her, he’d begun superconducting enough electricity to light up the Dallas skyline. Energy sizzled over his skin and shuddered down his spine before settling into every stiff inch he’d buried inside her. And with each thrust, her eyes widened, finally taking on a stunned, dazed quality. But she never looked away from him.

Damn it, he’d love to see her without the wig, the contacts, the makeup. Axel had a feeling he was fucking the most beautiful woman of his life, and he really had no idea what she truly looked like.

Before round two—which they’d definitely get to—he’d whittle away all the artificial crap and see the real her.

For now, he settled into the most heavenly pussy in his memory, feeling the gentle bounce of her breasts as he drilled her without pause. He’d ask her if it was too much, too hard, too fast, but given her unbridled response, everything he did with her felt more than all right. Under him, she rocked with every stroke. A rosy flush stole up her cheeks. Gasps and groans sounded from those sweet lips, slowly turning more guttural. And she gripped his cock like she wouldn’t last more than a few moments without falling into orgasm.

Axel couldn’t stop himself from seizing her mouth and devouring her. Fuck, he was inside of her in every way, and somehow it still wasn’t enough. He had to hear her, see her, feel her climax for him.

Normally, he’d prefer to stay in control. He dictated when and where he allowed a partner to put a hand on him at all. This one? He wanted everything she would give him—desire, affection, screaming orgasm.

Axel released her wrists. His beauty flung her arms around him and gripped his hips with her legs, clasping him close—not like a woman merely chasing ecstasy. No, she drank in the experience and clutched him, almost as if he was the experience. He’d often been valued for his control, his Domination, even his prowess. He wasn’t sure he’d actually had a lover who wanted more than what he could do for her when she fell under his command and into his bed. Something about the way she welcomed him into her body said she also wanted the man under the Dom.

He pinned her with a delving stare. In a distant part of his brain, he wished to fuck he could figure her out. At this moment, most of his concentration centered around holding back long enough to make her come first. The tight grip of her sex threatened to blow the top off his head, and he couldn’t wait to feel her explode around him and shoot him into the stratosphere.

No fucking way. “Look at me.”

Her lashes fluttered, drifting open again, revealing her artificial blue eyes. But colored contacts couldn’t mask the way she melted under his body, dissolved for his touch. He shuttled in and out of her pussy at a breakneck pace, seating himself deeper with every stroke. She was right on the edge, so close, he could almost see her toppling into the abyss.

Axel intended to help her along ASAP.

He slid his hands under her world-class ass and lifted her up. Now he applied friction to her clit with his body, back and forth in a burn of skin that coiled her even tighter and ratcheted up the tension between them. It brewed, built, escalating, climbing faster and harder and higher.

Until she clamped down on him so tightly he couldn’t move even a fraction. And she screamed.

Her cry rang in his ear, in his head. Something about it—about her—absolutely flipped his switch. Knowing he’d given her the sort of pleasure that made her rake his back with her nails and cling to him as if he were the only man on the planet did everything for him. It shot him off into the kind of mind-jarring, soul-shifting ecstasy he’d heard guys like Mitchell Thorpe and Logan Edgington talk about sharing with their women but had always quietly suspected was bullshit.

The need gathered low in his belly. Blood rushed. Tingling began at the base of his cock and began working its way upward. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think or control his movements or care about a damn thing except this woman in his arms whose name he didn’t really know. But she gave to him so completely and honestly that, as the prickling pleasure shot up his dick, he groaned out, sank his fingers into the firm flesh of her ass, pulled her as close to him as possible, then released everything he had to give inside her in a fireworks of unparalleled bliss.

He slowed his strokes, then stopped. She panted in his ear, still gripping him as if her life depended on it. Axel realized that he’d buried his nose in her neck somewhere along the way, so he nuzzled her, kissed her jaw, meandered with his lips over to her mouth and pressed his own to hers for a long, worshipful breath. His head spun. And even as his blood slowed, he still felt the impact of her through his system like a fucking seismic event.

What the hell had just happened?

Her eyes watered. A tear slipped from the corner and rolled down her temple.

She smiled, something tremulous and almost sad. “Nothing. This was everything I wanted. I’m just emotional, I guess. No worries. I’m sure I’ll get myself in order shortly.”

Axel wasn’t sure he actually wanted her to. He liked knowing he could reach her on a level beyond sex. He liked the way he felt something beyond desire and satisfaction with her, too.

He caressed her cheek with his knuckles and kissed her forehead softly. “No rush. At all. Just like you, this was everything I wanted.” He gave her a sly grin. “I can only imagine how much more amazing the next time will be.”

If she hadn’t been under him, he might not have noticed her tense, yet she gave him a smile. “I can’t wait.” Then she winced and squirmed a little. “But right now, I can’t breathe.”

Axel had no illusions about his size, especially in relation to the fairer sex. For that reason, he rarely had sex on top of a woman, even though he loved the hell out of it. Despite the fact that his beauty was taller than average, she was still slight, and he still towered over her.

She rolled away and darted to her feet, grabbing the sheet for covering. He frowned. Now she decided to be shy?

Maybe, but his bullshit meter was flaring like a motherfucker. She was up to something. He’d give her a little rope and see if she used it to hang herself . . . or bind herself to him. “Go ahead. Glasses are in the cabinet to the right of the fridge.”

Raising up on tiptoe, she kissed him for a long, lingering moment, then sent him a smile. Her heart all but bled out of her eyes, and he wished to fuck he understood the sadness lurking there.

She looked ready to cry. “Never better. Be right back.”

Wrapping the sheet around her a bit like a toga, she hightailed it out of the bedroom and padded down the hall. Frowning, Axel shook his head and made his way to the bathroom. He disposed of the condom, splashed some water on his face, then returned to the bedroom to wriggle into his jeans.

As he made his way to the kitchen, he didn’t hear a sound. Night had fallen, and she hadn’t turned on a single light, so he flipped the switch on the wall. Her shirt was gone from the kitchen counter. He dashed over to the sectional, only to see the rest of her clothing was gone, too. She’d left the sheet pooled on the floor.

She didn’t. Had she gone?

A panic he didn’t understand began to pump through his veins as he ran to the front door, only to find it suddenly unlocked and barely pulled to. A stiff wind would have blown it open.

Axel pulled it wide and jogged down his porch, out onto the street just quickly enough to see a sleek black car he hadn’t noticed before pull away from his curb.