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“So lovely,” he murmured, cupping an ass cheek in each hand. For the first time, Rose resisted her bonds. His touch was torment and enchantment, sending a thousand tingles through her body. Her skin didn’t feel like enough to contain her anymore. She bucked and writhed from the flood of feeling, sure she was going to fall apart.

“Sshhh. Breathe.
Breathe
.”

How was it that his voice saved her from the very torture he inflicted?

“Focus on me, Rose. Listen to my voice. Focus on what I want you to say next.”

More? Damn him, he wanted her to say more, to actually form words, when he rolled his thumbs deeper into the crevice between her legs, and gently started spreading her there? “Oh,” she whispered. “Ohhhh…” No. She couldn’t do anything beyond that. Impossible. Forget it.

“My desire is beautiful.” He directed it just as he opened her wider, pulling open the flesh of her sex so he could lightly stroke her there. “That’s what you’ll tell me next, pet.”

“M-my—”

He found the exact button at her core, flicking that sensitive strip of flesh, turning her cry into a scream.

“Beautiful. Truly beautiful, Rose. Do you want more?”

“God, yes. Please. Yes!”

“Then give me the words. Say it. ‘My desire is beautiful.’”

Damn him! Bless him!

She licked her lips and tore through her senses for a couple of rational thoughts to string together. “My…my desire…is beautiful.”

“Oh yes honey; it is.” He slid a second finger against her pulsing nub. This time he didn’t release the pressure. Rose jackknifed her head back. Her sex turned to lighter fuel, and his fingers were matches. Everything was white heat and pure need. She pitched herself back as far as she could but didn’t get very far, tethered in place by his deftly tied knots. A high cry ripped past her locked teeth.

“More, honey?” His own voice was tight and rough. He pivoted to kneel behind her now, pulling her shorts down as he went, giving him uninhibited access to her throbbing, dripping sex. “You need me to go faster? You want me to touch you harder? Do you need my fingers right here, on your wet clit, your aching pussy?”

He unraveled the rest of her with the words. Her inhibition spun free from the spindle of her mind, dissolving into rasps of pure arousal and untamed joy. “Yes. Yes. Yes please, Sir.”

She heard his hiss, which seemed a mixture of joy and shock in itself, before his touch took on an urgent life of its own. “Very, very good, Rose. Now, just one more, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it. ‘My surrender is beautiful.’”

Was he serious? “I…I— Ohhhh…mmmm…” She was ready.
So
ready. Her walls clenched all the way to her womb, craving their release, lunging for freedom from their ache.

“Give it to me, pet.
Now
. Say it to me and mean it—and when you’re done, you’re going to come against my fingers. You’re going to come hard. Do you understand, Rose?”

Chapter Five

Mark’s heart beat in time to Rose’s frantic nods. Despite that, every sound from his own body was mute to him. With one slice of his brain still heeding the door, he turned the rest to focusing on her. He listened to every nuance of Rose’s breath. He studied the flush of her skin, the tension of her wrists against the rope, even the rhythm of how she tossed her hair on her back. He gauged everything about her, lying here so exposed to him.

She intoxicated him.

She obliterated him.

She’d awakened him.

His Dom was back. Even if just for this exquisite, extraordinary moment…he was Master once more. At one with his sweet sub. Honored by her incredible gift. Determined to give it back to her with pleasure she’d never fathomed.

Slowly, with unalterable authority, he directed her again. “Say. It. You can do it, Rose.” He stroked her pouting labia lips, knowing the action teased her clit in all the right ways. “Say it for me, pet.”

She felt like heaven. Her skin, soft and moist beneath his thumbs, vibrated. With every twitch, his cock kicked harder at his sweats. But as much as he craved release, this wasn’t about his body. It was about the beast in his brain, the creature who’d lain dormant for far too long, rejoicing in its fiery rebirth.

“My…surrender…is beautiful.”

“Yessss.”

He blended his hiss to her rasp as he plunged one of his thumbs into her tight tunnel. He needed to feel her from the inside out as he set about proving her words perfectly true. “You remember what I want you to do now, Rose?” He watched her try to nod as the rest of her body took over, hips gyrating, her ass a mesmerizing landscape. He curled his other hand against her sex. The hard, hot ridge of her clit was his greeting committee. As he teased that quivering bundle of nerves, she keened and shivered.

“That’s it,” he coaxed. “You’re so ready, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes. Please!”

“Then come for me. Don’t hold back. Come, Rose. Now!”

Her scream, full and strident, filled the air. Her scent, tangy and heady, flooded his senses.

Her tears tore at his heart.

He gritted against saying or doing anything, continuing to stroke her, letting her ride the release along with the emotions it freed. Finally he couldn’t stand sitting there while she sobbed. He leaned and released her from the rope, then tugged her shorts up before pulling her into his lap. She fumbled as if not knowing what to do, so he guided her arms around his neck, forcing her to lean on him as her heartbeat calmed. In return, he held her close, rocking her. She was so beautifully made, with generous curves to her hips and ass. Her breasts, even tucked beneath a sports bra, pillowed against his chest with delectable softness.

“What a woman you are.” He said it against her neck. “Thank you, Rose, Thank you.”

She pulled back a little, huffing uncomfortably. “Uhhh, isn’t that my line?” She scooted back even farther, glancing down. The evidence of her effect on him still stood stiff in his crotch. Her direct gaze didn’t help matters. He cleared his throat, fighting the urge to adjust his balls to a more comfortable tension. She cleared her own, then said, “And shouldn’t I be showing you my thanks, instead of telling you?”

Before he could stop her, she dropped to the floor between his knees and reached for his waistband. But Mark seized her hands. “Is that what you think I want?” At her startled blink, he tamped down a surge of fury. Of course that’s what she thought. A wedding day that never was, coupled with the genetic chip for taking responsibility for the world, equaled a woman who now felt her only worth to a man involved her mouth between his thighs.

He pulled her back up, making her sit beside him. “No. Not right now. Come here. Sit.”

She complied, though confusion bunched her brows. “You…don’t want me to…”

“Oh, pet. Clearly, there’s nothing I’d want more. But this isn’t about me at the moment. This is about you, talking about what’s happening in those rooms in your head. I’m most interested in the one where all the waterworks came from.”

She frowned deeper, pursing those full berry lips. It definitely didn’t help in the department of forgetting how she looked on her knees in front of him.

“I don’t have ‘rooms’ in my head.”

“Oh yes you do.” He swung a leg over so he straddled the bench. “Why the tears?” He ran a hand across her cheek. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Were the ropes too tight?”

“The ropes were fine.” She grabbed his hand with a desperate urgency. “I— The ropes were—” She sucked in a harsh breath. “The ropes were wonderful.”

Understanding set in. The dip of her head, along with the way she sounded like she’d just confessed murder to a priest, made him nod. “Ah. And you’re conflicted about that. A little overwhelmed?”

She tapped at his knuckle with a dainty fingernail. Though the polish was light pink, each nail had a little dark pink jewel glued on it. Hmm. His Victorian cameo girl had a secret thing for bling. And, they were both quickly learning, for other alternative things. Trouble was, the lesson was turning her into a giant ball of nerves. That mass was likely infused with some shards of fear too.

“Look, I’ve got a couple of girlfriends into the whole bondage-and-submission thing. A few times, I even went to a club with one of them.”

“And did you enjoy it?”

“It was fine. But all I did was watch. And it was…fine.” She stammered it out like the priest had locked her in the confessional for a boldfaced lie. Which looked to be pretty much the case. “But just not my—” She huffed. “Look, I’m not some closet kinkster, okay?”

“Pity,” Mark replied. “Because I am.”

That got her attention. Newly stabbed by her wondering stare, he leaned his own face closer until their noses were inches apart. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Rose. It’s a beautiful gift that you give, in following your need to surrender. A man is hardwired to take care of his woman, in all ways and forms. Some of us just like to be more in control of the process.
Much
more in control. And when a woman trusts enough in our control to submit fully, such as letting herself be restrained and guided to fulfillment… Well, to a Dominant, that’s like water from heaven.” He closed that gap now, taking her lips in a tender caress, flicking his tongue against hers for the briefest second. “It’s a drink I haven’t had for a very long while.” He kissed the end of her nose. “Thank you.”

She sighed, brushing fingers along his beard, but then shook her head. “This feels so incredible. But it can’t be right.”

“Why?” He grabbed those fingers. “Are you seeing someone?”

A laugh shot from her. “No! God, no. There’s no one.” She sobered. “But surely you—”

“No one.” He said it with deliberation, needing to wipe the disbelief from the back of her gaze. “Sweetheart, despite the antics of some of my coworkers in Washington, bed-hopping never has, and never will, hold much appeal.” A deep chuckle emerged. “Believe me, it really
has
been a long time.”

“You’re kidding me.”

He squeezed her nape. “Not about this.” When she looked away, he clamped the hold tighter. “You still don’t believe me?”

“No. I believe you. It’s just that—”

“What?”

“Well, you’re on the younger side for Washington, which has to make you prime meat on their invitation lists.” Her cheeks turned the color of her name. “And…you’re flipping hot.”

The annoyance turned into a laugh. “I’m glad you think so. You’re pretty goddamn hot too.” The delicious curves of her mouth called to him again. He molded their lips and tongues together, diving his hand into her hair when she started pulling away, holding her for his consummation. Too late. Though her mouth complied, the rest of her resisted. When he slackened his hold, she lurched to her feet.

“No!” She pressed shaking hands to her cheeks. “We have to stop wanting this. We have to stop thinking it can happen!”

Mark shut his eyes. It was time to grab the room’s elephant by its big, fucking, floppy ears. “Because despite the hotness factor, I’m still older.”

She flung her hands out. “For one thing, yes. But—”

“I’m forty-five, Rose. And you’re…what…”

“Thirty-one.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “It’s not unheard of. And we’re not teenagers, sweetheart. Bogart and Bacall were twenty-five years apart. Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones? Twenty-five years. Rhett Butler had a twenty-year jump on Scarlett O’Hara.”

She scowled. “Fictional characters. No points on that one.” And how did he just pull all of that out of his head?

“Two out of three, then. I’ve made my point.”

“It’s still—
You’re
still—”

“What?” He rose calmly as he could while his patience still allowed. “I’m still what, damn it?”

“You’re still you! Respected on Capitol Hill. Demanded by Fortune 500 players. The father of a major music star.” She dodged his outstretched arms, gazing at him with half her bottom lip in her mouth and her heart glittering in her eyes—betraying to him, in one incredible second, that she’d been just as floored by what they’d shared so far. Yet in the next breath she whispered, “What’s the expression they use? Out of my league. That’s it. Senator Moore, Sir, you’re even beyond that. You’re out of my universe. We can’t let ourselves get deluded. Neither of us can afford it. Not now, not ever.”

Mark didn’t take the time to stop at irritated. He let fury stomp in and take the over. It saturated him as he pulled her up next to him. “So that’s it, then? The universe has gone through all this goddamn work to bring us together like this, giving us this gift, practically pounding us over the head with how perfect this is, and you’re going to hide behind all these excuses?”

“Not excuses!” She pushed at his chest. “Reasons! Good ones!” When her escape effort didn’t work, she huffed. “Look; I believed in the gift once. I believed in it all. I bought the whole glass-slipper fantasy, thinking I’d found my prince—”

“I’m not pretending to be a goddamned prince.”

“I know that.”

“Rose.” He bracketed her jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her gaze up again. “I want to give you something better. Do you get that? Do you see it? You’re already halfway there. Oh Rose…pet…”

Her gaze pooled with new tears, which gave him an odd glint of hope. But then she tried to jerk away. “Stop calling me that! Why do you call me that?”

“Because it fits.” He pulled her back next to him. “Because I want to take care of you, see after you. I want to meet every need you have and then some. And because you need it.” He fitted her head to his neck, loving the way her lashes felt against his jugular. “You know it too, don’t you? So why are you so afraid of it? Why are you denying who you are, who you clearly want to be? Why do you surrender so exquisitely for me, but then deny the thing that makes you feel so good and blossom so beautifully?”

She turned her head so their eyes met again. He stared at her, nestled so perfectly against him, and endured a rush of amazement. He’d managed to stuff his life full of things that seemed fulfilling…and all of it, with the exception of his time with Dasha, was like a washed-out painting compared to this. To simply holding a subbie after he’d taken her to heaven and back. No. It was holding
this
subbie. He longed to cradle her all night, to pull her tighter so he could kiss her deep…