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The muscles deep in my core tightened. It was not a sane reaction to seeing such a sharp, lethal weapon. But I trusted him.

With a quick, efficient stroke, he cut the rope. Placing the blade between his teeth, he tied it off. My pussy pulsed greedily to see the pirate in his element.

But relief was still far away.

Markos scooped me up and tossed me onto the bed. My back landed with a soft thump on the mattress. My inhale was a stilted gasp.

Speaking around the knife, Markos growled, “Bend your knees. Hands by your ankles.”

I dropped my hands to my side. Tangled strands of hair fell over my face, but I didn’t dare reach back up to brush them away.

Markos prowled forward, bending over the bed to secure first my right, then my left side. Once each length was cut, he finished by wrapping the rope across my upper arms, under my back, and back over the front until I couldn’t move.

Leaning back, he examined his handiwork. I felt more than saw the raw look come over his face.

“Fucking beautiful. You’re doing so well, Serena,” he rasped as he slid his blade back into its sheath.

Under the heavy weight of his stare, I lay there, exposed and open to him. Markos trailed a touch over my knee, urging it to the side.

“Spread for me, prinkípissa. Let me see you.”

Breath caught in my throat, I did as he commanded. Open was the only direction I could part my legs. His growl of approval sent a bolt of heat through me.

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are? The way your hair is tangled around you, the way you lie there and show me how much you trust me?”

I shook my head, succeeding only in making the strands drape further over my vision.

His touch trailed lower, skating across my inner thigh. I inhaled slowly, bracing for his touch. I wanted him to know how wet he’d made me.

But the relief never came.

Markos stepped back, shucking his shirt over his head. I couldn’t see from this angle what he was doing but the whisper of fabric suggested he’d removed his pants as well. A tense moment passed. The anticipation was going to kill me. It would probably be a more merciful death than the agony of unrelieved tension in my body.

Slowly, with deliberate steps, Markos came around the side of the bed and sat. He stared at me, soaking in the sight of my bound flesh. When I thought I would combust, he reached out and brushed the tip of his finger over my breast.

The contact was electric.

The plump flesh sparked and crackled at the attention. When his fingers danced over my straining peak, I nearly sobbed. I was unable to move into his touch, to demand that he relieve the ache in my nipple.

“Please,” I begged.

Such a small word. But the moment it left my lips, I understood. This was what I’d been reduced to, the only way to make my captor do anything was to plead with him.

Markos chuckled darkly. The triumphant sound confirmed he acknowledged my realization. But he wasn’t cruel. His hand covered my breast. He squeezed, tugging and pinching his fingers around my nipple.

My breath hitched, and my insides clenched tight.

The monster showed me mercy. Markos bent and flicked his tongue over my breast. The sensation sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He lapped at my nipple, offering me what I needed.

A whimper escaped past my lips.

Brushing the tangles away from my face, Markos rumbled in approval, moving to repeat the caress on the other side. This time, he used his teeth. Pleasure shot through me. Between my legs, moisture dripped from my entrance. As if the beast could sense it, Markos moved lower until his mouth found my pussy.

Stars exploded across the backs of my eyelids as his tongue slid against me, pushing into the soaking wet entrance. The sound he made, primal and predatory, made me convulse with pleasure.

He took his time, exploring and tasting. I was so damn close to an orgasm, which had built from the foreplay of binding me, that it only took a few flicks of his tongue over my clit to bring me to the edge.

But the relief never came.