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“With thorns?”

“Absolutely.” I dropped her feet to the floor, immediately spinning her around and bending her at the waist. I kicked her legs wide apart before pressing my full body weight against hers. I kept her arms over her head and slowly fingered the silk bindings.

She certainly didn’t seem to mind being tied up by a virtual stranger.

“Has my sweet Firesong been fucked in the ass before?”

Her forceful wiggling was met by a breathless whisper. “Yes. The bastard wasn’t gentle.”

“Relax, my wife. I promise you that as rough as you think I am, I’ll never hurt you.” I pulled away, brushing the tips of my fingers down her spine. She was even more beautiful in the glow of the rising room. There was something quite sinful about fucking her in front of three separate windows overlooking a marina and several restaurants.

How decadent indeed.

I caressed her back, hoping to ease the tension. But after running a finger down the crack of her ass, I couldn’t resist snapping my hand against her bottom.

She pushed up from the table. “Ouch. What was that for?”

“For general disobedience.”

“Very funny.”

“Who said I was kidding?”

Every soft moan emitted from her lush lips, every slushing sound my cock made when fucking her was such tantalizing music. I wasn’t the kind of guy to think that way, but fucking her was a sheer delight. Maybe I should consider it a perk.

I cracked my hand on her bottom again and she kicked out. I repeated the move three times in rapid succession and she moaned, shifting her hips back and forth. She was begging me to continue.

I had no issue complying with her wish, smacking her bottom long and hard while I thought about the night in the garden. I’d shocked the hell out of her.

Little did anyone know that I’d shocked myself as well.

“Harder,” she murmured and I strained to hear her correctly. Maybe I should have grabbed my belt.

Next time.

For now, my cock was too greedy and eager to return to her wetness. But I had no issue bringing my palm down several times, covering her ass cheeks. I longed to see my handprint as a design, a reminder when she glanced into the mirror that she belonged to me.

She panted as I spanked her harder and harder. I wanted her to wear my marks for days, but her growing wetness wasn’t something I could ignore for long.

I leaned to her ear, whispering, “Ten more, and you will feel these.”

As she moaned, I straightened and gripped her hip with my free arm. I brought my hand down harshly on her glowing ass again and again, her gasps the sweetest reward.

As soon as I was finished, I pressed my hand between her legs.

“Oh, fuck me,” she whispered in a throaty voice.

“Trust me, Firesong. I will. I’m not finished yet. I’ll let you know when I am.” As I slipped my fingers past her swollen folds, she arched her back, her long fingers digging into the table’s surface.

With her head turned slightly, I was able to catch her heated expression. Just the way her eyelids were fluttering, her long lashes skimming her rosy cheeks could keep me enthralled for hours.

But the feel of her muscles clamping around my fingers kept my rapt attention. I added a third, flexing them open as I slid in and out. Every movement was methodical, slow and easy. At least at first. There was something exciting about the way my hunger continued to increase, expanding tenfold with every passing second.

I was barely breathing and when I did, it was labored. My vision was fuzzy, which I found most surprising of all. No woman had enthralled me in my life.

Except for one.

That had been a lifetime ago, the memories belonging to a different man. Carmella wiggled as I finger-fucked her, finally settling down so her face was pressed against the table.