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“Do you like it?” Peter asks in a raspy voice still soaked with an unquenched thirst for more of what we started. “I didn’t want to bring you here earlier and have you think I was demanding sex.”

I turn to him and say, “I was hoping we would have sex. You told me days ago that you wanted to make love to me.”

“I thought you didn’t remember that.”

I smile tremulously at him.

“How could I forget? Last night, you knew how much I wanted you. You could see it.”

His expression softens a bit.

“I did know, and it was so arousing. How about now, do you want me as much as last time?” he asks, gently stroking my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

I giggle a bit.

“It appears you’re the one missing clothes, so I think you know the answer to that.”

“Let me change that. I want to see your desire again. But Whitney, I can’t promise I will make love to you. Making love implies something slow and controlled. My control is held in place by a thin strand of spider silk. It’s strong, but you can sever it with the touch of your hand. Once you do that I’m going to take from you until you have nothing left to give.”

His open desire is a little scary, but it’s something I never expected to feel from a man. I’ve had sex with guys I’ve dated and I know it’s been enjoyable for both of us, but Peter has used words like “obsessed,” “possess,” and “take.” I never expected words like that to stir such excitement in me.

Peter is undoing the laces on my blouse and I can’t take my eyes off of his. My hands go to his waist and I wonder if this will be the touch that severs his control. He manages to control himself, so I let my hands explore the carved stone that is his sculpted chest. His skin is hot, almost feverish to the touch.

He has deftly removed all the lacing from my top and I drop my arms to let the garment fall to the floor. I step back until I can sit on the foot of his bed. Peter drops to his knees in front of me and gently pulls my bra straps down over my shoulders. His hands glide over my breasts and send shivers down my back, hardening my nipples as my body displays my desire. Peter’s lips close around the pink crests and give them the same bruising treatment he gave my lips. The pleasure and pain are intertwined and cannot be separated. I don’t want him to stop, so I run my hands up into his hair, holding his mouth there and pushing my chest into it.

I sense his control begin to falter as his hands dig into my hips and fumble to remove my pants. I lift my hips and all the clothing from my waist down is stripped off in one swift movement. His lips release my stinging nipple and it’s both a relief and a loss. He trails gentler kisses down my stomach and stops just below my belly button to glance up at me. The look in his eyes is almost feral.

“Do you want me as much as you did last night?” he growls.

“More,” I breathe and I don’t recognize the husky tone of my voice.

“Show me,” he demands and spreads my legs wide.

I’m still on the edge of the bed, leaning back and supporting myself with my arms. I can’t stop watching him as he kneels in front of me. The hunger in his eyes is unmistakable as he takes in how wet with desire I am. I’m again reminded of the panther.

His mouth traces a line up the inside of my thigh. Watching and anticipating what he will do next is maddening. Will he be gentle or will he be demanding and bruising, like he was with my mouth and my breast? I don’t even know which I want. His tongue tastes me ever so slowly and I suddenly know which I want. I want him to possess me, as he warned.

I run my hand through his hair again and whisper one word because it is all I can manage. “More,” I plead.

He spins into action. His fingertips dig into my thighs and his mouth covers me, sucking and biting, his tongue slipping inside me. He moves my thighs to his shoulders and scrapes his teeth across me to intertwine pleasure and pain again. The ecstasy is climbing higher than I knew it could; I’m panting and whimpering with the intensity of it. I don’t want to reach the peak yet, but I think I need to so I can breathe again. Peter knows what I need as he massages my tiny magic button with his mouth. Then, he reaches up to run his thumb over one raw nipple while thrusting two fingers inside me.

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