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Boisterous laughter stumbled in from the patio. Everyone had congregated outside with beer and chips, their spirited mood wafting into the night sky.

“You have a magical way of bringing people back to life, Charlee.” His timbre was husky, his gaze burning her skin.

Too bad she couldn’t bring nineteen-year-old girls back to life. She gave herself a mental slap. Hadn’t she beaten herself up enough? “Nothing’s more magical than a six-inch double rainbow over your ass.” She packed up the last machine and bent to close up the box. “All done.”

Fingers curled around her hip and she jumped. Sneaky bastard. She turned to face him with a spurt of mischief pumping through her veins. Stretching her jaw, she let out a dramatic yawn and snapped it closed. “Race you to the bedroom.”

She spun. Through the living room, down the hall, around the bend, she pushed off the wall and threw open the double doors to his suite.

The slap of bare feet closed in behind her, kicking up her pulse. He slammed the doors and caught her in his sitting room. Arms around her waist, he doubled her over the back of the loveseat. She clawed at the leather, tried to plunge headfirst into the cushions, laughter tearing from her lungs. Ass in the air—

Ow, fuck. He bit her. His teeth clenched through her jeans and pinched the crease between her thigh and cheek. His hand followed with a smack that shimmied a twinge from her hip to her feet. Wowza, he meant business. Desire curled in her pussy and pulsated with a force that stole her breath.

His weight bore down on her, chest pressing against her back and lips fluttering over her ear. “Go to the bedroom. Remove your clothes. Face the foot post on my side of the bed, feet spread and arms above your head. You have two minutes.”

She nodded, voice strangled, a fever blooming over her skin.

One minute later, she stood in the commanded position, her yearning wet and clinging to her inner thigh. She shuddered, the footfalls behind her magnifying the tremors.

Soft fabric touched her cheek, and the room disappeared. He secured a blindfold around the back of her head with a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No, Sir.” Damn, she sounded breathy.

He chuckled and gripped her wrists where they stretched along the post above her head.

The click-click-click of felt-lined handcuffs filled her ears and restrained her hands. She tried to lower them and they didn’t budge. “There’s a hook in the bedpost?” Had it always been there? Why?

“Had an eye bolt installed yesterday.” He slapped her ass.

The smack was lighter this time, but the sting lingered without the protection of denim. Her clit awoke, pulsing. “Harder.”

His breath came out in heavy gusts, tangling in her hair and winding down her body. He ran his hands along her stretched arms and circled her breasts, lifting them.

Was he naked back there? Was his erection straining to reach her? “Move closer. I want to feel you.”

He shifted, and the disappointment of denim brushed the backs of her legs. But, oh God, the heat pouring off his bare chest mingled with hers and plastered her flesh. He slid down her body until his breath brushed the apex of her legs. The throb there was met with the warm stroke of his tongue.

He covered her pussy with his mouth, his licks deep and urgent. She raised herself toward him and ground against his face. His groan vibrated inside and out as his hands heated every inch of skin he could reach.

His warmth disappeared, replaced with the chill of the A/C vent somewhere above her. She remained still, tried to follow the rustling sound of his jeans.

Whack.

Pain fired over her ass. Holy fuck. Didn’t he say he didn’t need to hit her—

Crack. Crack.

Both thighs. Low and sharp. Damn it hurt good.

The hollow sound of wood clattered to the floor. The bamboo pole? The scratch of his zipper lowering produced a clench between her legs. The velvety head of his cock rubbed against her folds, and she pressed her ass against him, needy and impatient.

Leaning against her back, his body engulfing her from head to toe, he must have caught his weight with a hand on the bedpost. His lips skid over her shoulder, his breath hot and rushed, his free hand squeezing her breasts and lowering over her belly, between her thighs, and guiding him to her center. Right there. Oh God.

He pushed in, and the sure-fire stroke shot ripples through her womb.

“Aw fuck. Your pussy just lets me right in.” His hips moved into a pounding rhythm. In and out in driving circles, his pelvis slammed into her backside and her mound rubbed against the unforgiving wood post. “Jesus, you feel good.”