Leaning forward, he kissed her rosy cheek and felt such surprising pleasure, he kissed her again – on her lips.

As his mouth lifted from hers, she blushed, looked down, then slowly raised her gaze to his. Innocence waiting to be fucked, he pleasantly thought. And his, he decided with the proprietary instincts of a modern princeling. He traced the pale curvature of her breasts with his fingertips. ‘You shouldn’t hide these,’ he softly said. ‘We’ll get you some clothes you can wear for me … in private.’ Capturing her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he gently squeezed. ‘Something to show these off,’ he said, husky and low, watching the peaks swell with the increasing pressure.

She groaned as the ravishing sensations flowed downward, curled hot in the pit of her stomach, instantly liquefied her body as though she welcomed his casual coercion, as if she were utterly shameless, as if his touch, no matter how wilful, inflamed her lust. Squirming on the marble bar top, she whimpered, ‘Please, please … oh lord—’

‘Easy.’ His voice was low, silken, placating. ‘We have all night.’

She wanted to say, ‘I can’t wait all night’, but her brain was consumed with frenzied lust not speech, her senses in tumult, the ache between her legs relentless. His grip on her nipples was firm, hard, insistent, his fingers strangely rough, as if he worked with his hands – Oh God – with ropes and whips. A terrifying sense of powerlessness ran up her spine at the thought of Dominic Knight with a whip and she shivered.

‘Hey, hey … slow down,’ he whispered, letting his fingers slip from her nipples. ‘Relax.’

His lips brushed hers, his kiss soothing, the warmth of his mouth lingering on hers with such gentleness, she could feel the wildness inside her ease. ‘How do you do it?’ she whispered.

Another benevolent little kiss. ‘It’s better if you don’t move too fast.’

‘And you can make it last?’ Her body was purring in wait mode.

His smile was close, heated. ‘We’ll try.’ Then he slid his palms under her breasts and raised his hands slightly. ‘How does this feel?’

‘Like I want you inside me.’

He grinned. ‘You’re rushing me, babe.’ He adjusted the weight of her breasts in his palms. ‘Maybe I don’t feel like doing that right now. Maybe I want you to wait.’ He spread his long, slender fingers, gently squeezed her soft flesh.

She swallowed hard as another heated surge streaked down from her breasts and a ripple of unbearable longing flared inside her. ‘What if I can’t wait?’

He looked up. ‘You have to.’

A resentful flash in her eyes. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m the one with the dick and you’re the one that wants it,’ he gently said. ‘It’s not complicated. Now look. We’re going to go – just a little higher? Like that? More? A little more? Jesus,’ he breathed, his gaze on her large breasts shoved up into towering mounds. ‘I’m going to have to fuck these huge tits.’

Even as she gasped at the discomfort, her body treacherously welcomed Dominic Knight’s coercion in a hot liquid rush of desire. She moaned, shifted slightly on the cool marble bar top, clenched her thighs against her stark craving.

Not yet, he selfishly thought. ‘Too high?’ But he didn’t lower his hands, he pushed her breasts higher.

She cried out in shock or distress or something else entirely.

That something else was too enticing to ignore. She didn’t mind a little pain. ‘No more waiting for you, Miss Hart?’ he pleasantly said.

‘I’d rather not.’

Snappish or randy, he wasn’t sure. ‘So you need a little help?’ But he was already slipping a finger into her slick cleft. ‘Umm, there we are.’ His fingertips tenderly touched her hypersensitive clit. ‘Nice.’ He squeezed delicately, looked up; his voice softened. ‘Did we get that right?’

She softly moaned as a riptide began rising inside, her cheeks flushed.

‘Here – lean back.’ He helped her shift her weight back on her hands. ‘Give me a little room.’ He slid his finger past her clit, deeper, but not too deep, teasing her. ‘Better now?’

She pressed into his finger, moved her hips, lifted her big-eyed gaze to his.

‘Wound up tight, babe?’

‘Please … I mean it, please …’

A flicker of a smile. ‘You need to come down, don’t you?’ His hand brushed her cheek, slid down to her breast, cupped it gently, found her nipple and squeezed. Her small gasp warmed his cheek as he bent to add another finger to her silky heat. Pushing gently, he slid the second finger alongside the first, thrust both in slowly, lingered on her tingling G-spot, her swollen clit, looked up as she softly sighed. Then he settled into a slow, rhythmic in and out stroke, taking his time, watching her.

Gently rocking against his fingers, eyes shut against the building bliss, Kate finally gave in to her on-again-off-again burning hot craving for Dominic Knight. She didn’t care any more about kinkiness or control freak issues. He could be Bluebeard for all she cared, so long as he didn’t stop doing what he was doing. He was worlds better than any vibrator and a universe better than any of her former fumbling sexual partners. Really, with them the phrase ‘Lie back and think of England’ was totally appropriate. But with Dominic she groaned in a little musical exhalation of heavenly rapture. His selfless attentions to her GSspot were awesome.