“Now.” His tone invites no disobedience and God help me I want to play this game. Swallowing hard, I part my legs, sending my skirt riding up my thighs.

“Good girl.” His approval sends a torrent of need pounding through my body until it centers in my clit. How does he know the exact words to say to get me off? It’s like he’s inside my head, delving into my most secret fantasies, my deepest desires.

Gently, he traces his finger slowly up my inner thigh, his hooded gaze never leaving my face. His hand brushes over my panties, a feather light touch that drives me crazy. Desperate to rock my hips, I reach for the seat belt, but Ray stays my hand.

“I like you restrained.”

“I can’t… I mean, I don’t.” I release the seat belt, which only serves to make the situation worse because now my hips can move, and move they do, seeking out the pleasures only Ray’s fingers in my panties can give.

As if he can read my mind, Ray traces along the lace edge, then shoves the wet fabric aside and glides his finger along my wet folds.

“Christ, you’re wet. And hot. You’re gonna burn up my Jeep.”

I writhe, hungry for his touch. A stroke, a thrust, a pinch—anything to give me release. Finally, a whimper escapes my lips.

“You like to watch.” He glides his finger through my folds again, this time, spreading my moisture up and around my clit.

“Ray…” My voice is a pained whisper. “I need to come.”

“I know. But not yet. Maybe you should watch some more.” He thrusts one thick finger inside me and I drop my head back on the seat and moan.

With a low chuckle, he changes the angle of his hand, pressing two fingers into my sex. Desperate for release, I press his hand hard against me and shamelessly grind against the heel of his palm.

“Watch,” he commands. I obey. And for a moment I feel free.

My eyes flutter open, and I stare at the balcony. The man is holding the woman face-first against a table with her hands pinned to her lower back. Every light in their apartment is on, and their curtains are fully open. How can they not know people can see them? Or maybe it is as Ray says, and they do.

He spanks her with his free hand, his arm rising and falling in a steady rhythm. A low groan tears out of my throat, and I rock my hips violently against the fingers curled inside me, struggling to keep my grip on reality under the raging tide of arousal and the desperate, almost painful need to come.

But wicked Ray is in a teasing mood. He thrusts his fingers deep, spreading them inside me, then withdraws, leaving me aching and bereft, over and over again, bringing me up and taking me down until my body is trembling and I am writhing against his hand, my sweat-soaked clothing sliding over the cool leather seat. “Please…Ray…it hurts.”

With a low growl, he leans across the seat and covers my mouth, his tongue brushing over the seam of my lips, forcing them open. And I open. I give him everything, tangling his tongue with mine, threading my hands through the silky strands of his hair.

“So fucking sexy.” He curls his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him, his breath hot on my cheek. “I want you like that. Naked, wet, restrained for my pleasure, begging me to make you come. I want your ass pink from my hand. I want to claim every part of your sweet body until you know nothing but me and the pleasure only I can give you.”

He pounds his fingers inside me and circles his thumb around my clit until my tension builds and peaks.

“Scream for me, beautiful girl.” He slants his mouth over my lips as he presses his thumb hard over my clit. And I come, hot and wet over his fingers, a burst of pleasure so intense the world sheets white as Ray swallows my scream.

Exhausted, my body still quivering, I slump back in the seat as he withdraws his fingers. “What made you wetter?” Ray’s voice drops to a husky rasp. “Watching them fuck or the way he controls her?”

“I don’t know. I watched a couple of porns on TV with Jess, but they just made me laugh. Other than that, I’ve never watched anyone. Never imagined it would turn me on. Maybe it’s a bit of both, but mostly I think it’s the control. But it’s that side of me that got me into trouble in the first place. Luke—” I suck in a sharp breath at my slip and pray he didn’t catch the name. “The guy who assaulted me was rich, handsome, charming, a daredevil, and utterly thrilling. Almost irresistible to an eighteen-year-old introverted artist with an overprotective family. That’s the night I learned I couldn’t trust myself. I learned I couldn’t trust these feelings I had around men who took my breath away because I couldn’t handle men I couldn’t control.”

“You control me pretty well.” Ray glances up at the redbrick building. The alley is empty, and I hope he didn’t miss out on something important because of me.

“Seriously? You’re the Predator. Not even Torment can control you.”

“One drawing and you almost had me on my knees.” Ray threads his fingers through mine and holds my hand to his lips. “You got a kinky side. Nothing wrong with that, especially when our kinks fit together. You got a need to give up control and I got a need to take it. I can feed your soul and you can feed mine. But you will always be safe with me.” He kisses each of my fingers and warmth flows through my body, spreading out to my fingers and toes.

“You don’t understand.” I swallow hard. “Even if that’s my kink, I’m not normal. Normal people have normal sex in a normal way. They don’t worry if they’re going to have a panic attack afterward or if something might trigger a bad memory and send them spiraling off into a black hole, or that something bad will happen if they give in to their secret desires.”