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“God, you’re perfect,” he says, his other thumb now massaging my throat as he continues to hold me in place. His head dips down and he licks at my breast, tongue strong and flat, sucking in my nipple until my head rolls back and I’m writhing against him. The pressure on my neck increases, and I’m feeling lightheaded, and I never want him to stop.

But then suddenly he does stop, releasing my neck just as I let out a moan.

“Sorry,” he says, giving me a sheepish look that contradicts the storm in his eyes. “Choking you is the last thing I should do.”

I swallow, my neck already tender. “Then what’s the first thing you should do?”

A wicked grin flashes across his face, a dimple appearing in his stubble.

He reaches down and grabs me by the waist, hauling me up and flipping my stomach down onto the table, knocking over the tea, the contents spilling everywhere.

I let out a yelp of surprise and he grunts, pushing me down with one hand, the other yanking down my pants and underwear until I’m totally bare.

He lets out a hiss, pausing for a moment, then grabs my arms and holds my wrists at the small of my back.

“I have this need to restrain you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “To pin you down like a butterfly. To marvel at your beauty but to know that you are caught, that you are mine.” He exhales a shaky breath. “Does that scare you?” he adds quietly. “There’s not many women who understand the things I desire, at least in the bedroom.”

“It scares me in the best way,” I tell him, my voice muffled as my cheek rests against the table. “And I understand completely. It’s what I need.”

“You will want a safe word. Something that lets me know I’m taking things too far. I don’t wish to harm you in any way.”

“Ocean,” I say, the word just coming to me.

He lets out a happy sigh. “Ocean. That’s perfect. You’re perfect for me, Syd.”

Because you have found a kindred spirit in me, a depraved soul who knows your depraved soul, I think, but I don’t voice this to him. It’s too cheesy and sentimental, too much for what’s actually going to happen, which is pure, raw sex. I can be this way when something finally feels good and right; I fall fast but I never keep it to myself. I have to tell the world, or at least the person I have feelings for, which only makes them run.

Which is why I tell him, “Restrain me. Please, doctor.”

At least one of us won’t be able to run.

He swallows thickly, lust clouding his eyes.

“Don’t fucking move,” he says, harkening back to my dream.

Is it possible that my dreams are of the future?

While he disappears somewhere in the boat, I look up at the painting on the wall. In the dream it was one of the grave, but now it’s the eagle again, thank god. I shut the memory of the night out of my mind, refusing to think about what transpired right before I got here.

Kincaid comes back into the cabin. “Good girl,” he says, the praise making me blush. “How well you follow my instructions. Perhaps I’ll be more lenient on you.”

“Don’t,” I tell him, pressing my cheek against the wood. “I don’t deserve it.”

He chuckles and I hear the smooth sound of something being unraveled.

Rope.

“You’re right about that, my pet,” he growls. “But I’m the one who gets to judge, not you. Now shut the fuck up and don’t speak until you’re spoken to.”

Holy fuck. Yes, doctor.

He grabs my wrists again, wrapping rope around them. Unlike the one in my dream, this rope is soft and smooth, the same kind used for the sails on deck. When he finishes with my wrists, he brings the rope underneath my body, wrapping it up to my shoulders and back down over the bottom of my ass and over my thighs, keeping them together until I’m restrained all over.

The fact that he’s using Shibari rope bondage on me makes me want to melt into the table.

You’re a dream come true, I can’t help but think. Literally.

“Perfect,” he murmurs roughly, gliding his hand over me, following where the ropes criss-cross my body. “Almost a masterpiece.”