...“Where are we going?”

“The Fetish Room.”

“Sounds like I’ve been a bad girl.”

“You don’t have to be bad for me to tie you up, blindfold you, and do as I please.”

Her heart raced, thighs clenched together to increase the pressure on her stiff, aching clit. His hand ran down the inside of her leg to the back of her knee where she had a sensitive spot that drove her wild. She sighed as he opened the bedroom door and kicked it shut behind him. Silver handcuffs decorated with diamonds rattled above the door, the whorehouse’s answer to a lucky horseshoe.

“Who says I’m the one who’s being tied up?” she asked, eyeing the collection of restraints and different crops hanging from the walls. Various black and white pictures of women in submissive poses with ball gags or their arms behind their back in leather restraints were framed beside antique devices.

“Because I’ve got you over my shoulder.”

“I could do some really cool Jackie Chan move, knock you on your ass, and have you bound and gagged before you ever knew what happened.”

“Then let’s see you try.” He sounded so damned sure of himself that she wished she’d known a karate move to teach him a lesson, but instead she just struggled and exhausted herself. With a laugh, he placed her on the ground. “That’s what I thought.”

She planted her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. “I just don’t want you to feel bad.”

His easy smile returned as he wrestled his shirt up and over his head and flung it across the room where it hit the bottom of a mirror and lay crumpled. He reached for her, pulled her in close, and struggled to remove her blouse before he kissed her so hard he stole the breath from her body and sent bolts of electricity from the top of her head to her toes. She could feel him holding back, waiting for her to either submit or refuse.

His head dipped, then he moved her bra strap aside to kiss her shoulder and chest. Through the mirror she watched their exchange, mesmerized by how he pulled at her, his every move masculine and commanding.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, wanted to feel his lips around her nipple, experience the tug of his tongue around her sensitive flesh. He made it too damned easy to lose herself in his arms—too damned good to watch in the mirror and enjoy both from the inside and the outside.

“Here,” he said, pulling her arms behind her back. “Stay like that.”

She stood quietly, her breasts thrust forward only inches from the brass canopy bed. “What if I move?” she murmured.

“Then I restrain you.”

She relaxed her arms and allowed her hands to dangle at her sides. With smoldering, ice blue eyes, he stared at her before he walked behind her and put her hands together. He easily grasped her wrists with one hand and smacked her hard on the ass, sending an unexpected rush through her.

“That’s a warning.”

“It’s only going to encourage me.” She pulled hard and freed one of her arms, which he instantly snatched back into place. Forcing her forward, he slapped her on the ass again.

“You only get one warning, Rianne.”

Smooth, cool leather brushed up her arms to her elbows. He paused, kissing her neck before he zipped the monoglove into place.

Her fingers curled with excitement as he stood behind her and continued to kiss and suck her neck. One hand reached around and slid beneath her bra to touch and tease her hardened nipple. Together they sighed, their breath turning harsh and needy. Her knees weakened, pussy dripping with the excitement of him in control behind her, waiting to see what he’d do next.

“You’re going to hold still,” he told her.

She moved her feet shoulder-width apart. “Or what?”