When he pulls his long-sleeved Henley off over his head, I’m treated to the elaborate ink that decorates his right arm from shoulder to wrist. I haven’t gotten the chance to fully explore it, but I want to. It looks delicious, and I’m eager to trace every inch of it with my tongue.

“You want to see them?” he asks, smirking at me.

“Can I?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

Taking his hand, I lift his arm. He lets me drink my fill, turning it to see the designs that wrap around his taut forearm and his thick bicep. There’s a quote in what I think is Latin.

“What does it say?”

“It loosely translates to: Chase away the demons.”

Oh.

Dark swirls of gray and black designs decorate his skin, perfectly drawn. Whoever the artist was, he or she was very talented. Nestled within thorns and leaves is a vivid red rose, the only pop of color on the whole piece. It’s on his forearm, near the crook of his elbow, as if it’s been deliberately placed in that sensitive spot. I can’t help but feel this rose has a certain significance to him.

“A rose?” I voice my question, hoping my curiosity will be answered.

“Macey Rose.”

Rose is my middle name, but there’s no way he did this for me . . . is there? My heart is pounding, but before I can say anything more, the moment passes.

Reece leans over and grabs his toy bag. “You said no holding back this time, but I need to hear you say it. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Swallowing my nerves, I nod.

“Tell me,” he says.

“I want this.”

He’s looking down at me so thoughtfully, and maybe it’s this heavy moment, or maybe it’s the beautiful rose permanently inked on his body that might be for me, but I want to kiss him.

Memories of our first kiss flash through me. It was raining out, pouring actually, and I was hiding behind my parent’s shed as I tried to work up the courage to run toward the house. Reece came to check on me and help me inside. The way the rain had soaked his clothes, making them mold to every hard, muscled plane of his body, was too much. The secret attraction for each other we’d been fighting all summer seemed to boil over all at once.

I can’t remember who made the first move, all I know is that suddenly our mouths were fused together while warm raindrops fell heavily on us. My fingers knotted in his soaked T-shirt while his tongue quested for mine. I remember my pounding heartbeat, and the damp flood of moisture between my legs when his teeth nibbled my bottom lip. His kiss was raw. Primal. And still the best kiss I’ve ever had.

We may be different people now, but that doesn’t stop me from leaning in toward him and placing my palm against his cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

He lets out a long, slow exhale, but doesn’t answer. “Lie down on the bed.”

Confusion rushes through me, but I do as I’m told. Reece’s fingertips skim over my belly, my hips, the pressure so light it tickles. His calloused fingertips are warm against my skin. It strikes me just how perfectly built for each other we are, his strength for my softness. I suck in a breath when he reaches the juncture between my thighs.

“Spread your legs for me. Show me that sweet little cunt,” he says.

His words are so crass, and I’ve never been spoken to like this before, but my body responds immediately. I’m warm all over, and between my legs grows damp.

“Beautiful,” he growls, running the pad of his thumb between my folds, feeling the slick heat that’s just for him.

I part my legs further. All my self-consciousness falls away at the appreciative tone in his voice and the hunger I see reflected in his eyes.

“I’m going to show you how to be a good submissive tonight. How to please me. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly. The idea of pleasing him makes me feel hot all over. Maybe it’s the way his tall, muscular frame looms over me, or that sexy-as-sin sleeve of dark tattoos, but I’m turned on and soaked already.

Shameless. But who cares.

When he removes a length of black rope from his bag, I present my hands to him, placing my wrists together in front of me.

“Good girl,” he says, looping the rope over each wrist and securing them together. Once my wrists are secured, he places them over my head, up near the headboard. “Keep them up here.”

Before I can even wonder what happens next, he lowers himself to the bed between my legs. “Just one little taste,” he says, and before I can prepare myself, his mouth is on me, his tongue licking against my sensitive clit.

My hips shoot off the mattress and I cry out. I want to bring my hands to his hair, feel the soft strands between my fingers, but I keep my arms above my head, wanting to obey him and take the pleasure he’s offering. Something tells me that maybe this is his way of making up for being an asshole last time.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs with his mouth still against me. “I could eat this sweet pussy for hours.”

Yes, please. My hips are circling of their own accord, my breathy moans getting louder and louder, my orgasm getting closer, when he suddenly stops. He fucking stops.

A frustrated groan travels up my throat. I blink open my blurry eyes, trying to focus on him and figure out why for the love of God he’d stop.

“Not yet, princess. I’m just getting started, and you won’t come tonight until I say so.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my raging hormones. “I understand, sir. Tell me how to please you.”

Rising to his knees, he flicks open the button on his jeans and takes out his thick, heavy cock, stroking it in his right hand.

God, that’s sexy. I could watch him do this all night, but after a couple of slow strokes, he stops.

“You want to know how to please me? Turn over on your belly and show me that sexy ass of yours.”

With my heart rate ratcheting up, I roll onto my stomach and place my bound hands underneath me, lying with my knees bent so that my butt is up in the air. I should feel exposed and uncomfortable, but the appreciative murmur in his throat tells me that he fucking loves this view. He’s always been an ass man. I guess some things never change.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks.

“No, sir.” I’ve never been interested. But with Reece, I find that I am.

I feel him, the heat of his broad body against me. His chest hovers over my back, and his thighs press against the back of mine as he leans over me. I tremble when his lips touch between my shoulder blades as he places a tender kiss there. I wanted to kiss him tonight, even asked him if I could, but it seems this is the only kind of kiss I’ll get. Knowing that, I savor the press of his full mouth against my skin.

“I’m going to fuck this tight, virgin ass. And you’re not going to come until I say so. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I croak. Nervous does not even begin to describe my state of mind. I’m about to tell him there’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to come from this when I hear a low hum of vibration.

Wondering what’s about to happen, I feel Reece’s fingertips rub my back opening, warm and slippery with lubricant.

Oh. Hello there.

“Breathe for me,” he whispers, placing another one of those sweet kisses against the back of my neck that make me feel too many things.

I try to focus—not on the man, but on the act, the mechanics of it all. I need to keep myself detached. When the broad head of his cock presses against my ass, I pull a deep breath into my lungs. There is no way in hell that’s going to fit. That thing is gargantuan.

“Do you trust me?” he asks from behind me.

“Yes.” There’s no question, no hesitation on my part, and I sense that that pleases him.

“Then breathe and try to relax for me. I’m not going to hurt you. I know what I’m doing.”

I don’t want to think about all of the submissives who came before me, but perhaps he’s right. His experience with women will be a benefit to me, if I let it.