She was so wet, so slick that the moisture lay in a thick, heavy layer over the swollen folds.

Once his fingers dipped into the lush, slick juices, they didn’t retreat. Rather, his lips parted, drawing the hard tip of her breast into his mouth and drawing on it with fiery pulls of his mouth. His fingers slid lower, drawing the slickness back to the smaller, tighter entrance he sought. There, he rubbed the tightly clenched opening, the tip of his finger pressing and massaging it, stealing her breath with the forbidden, erotic caresses.

With each slight penetration of his fingertip, her senses became awash with a slight stinging pleasure as he parted the puckered flesh. Deeper, though, inside the feminine, sensual core of her, she could feel something more.

“What are you doing to me?” she whimpered, unable to tell him to stop, but not so certain of the stirrings of emotion that made little sense to her.

“God, Zoey.” Releasing her nipple, he brushed his cheek over the highly sensitive nubbin of flesh. “I’m destroying both of us. Do you feel it, baby?”

Forcing her eyes open, she stared at the tightly drawn features, the heavy, carnal need, and in his melted chocolate gaze she saw shadows of some emotion she had no idea how to define.

“Tell me to stop, Zoey,” he demanded, his lips moving to the opposite breast. “Tell me to let you go. Or neither one of us will be the same later.”

Not be the same? It wouldn’t be any different than when he took her virginity. How could any sex act be more momentous than that first time, that first lover?

Hazy sensuality surrounded her, filled her. When his head lifted she stared back at him, the pleasure drugging her.

“You’re not going to do it, are you?” he groaned. “You won’t tell me to stop, will you, Zoey?”

She could feel his cock pounding against her thigh, see the vein at his neck pounding in excitement.

“Maybe,” she answered him breathlessly, stretching beneath him and letting a smile touch her lips. “Let me think about it a minute, ’kay?”

Let her think about it?

Let her think about it?

Doogan narrowed his eyes on her, seeing the challenge in her gaze, the hint of a dare and shadows of that destruction in her oddly colored eyes.

She was so fucking innocent. Too innocent.

She had no idea what she was tempting by allowing him to take her in this way.

“Time to think is over.” Surging back, Doogan flipped her to her stomach before she could protest, glancing at the cuffs on her hands to be certain the toggle on the chain securing them to the bed turned with her wrists.

She gave a throaty little laugh filled with hunger and such a complete lack of fear that his chest clenched. She trusted him. At this moment, before she realized exactly what he was about to do to her, she trusted him completely. And once he was finished, that trust would go to her soul.

“How pretty.” His hand smoothed over the curve of her rear. “So pert and well rounded. The first time I saw you, your back was to me and all I could think was how bad I wanted to spank that pretty ass.”

He watched, anticipation and hunger exploding through him as his hand landed on the curve of her rear in a heavy caress, lifted, and he saw the first, erotic blush stain the satiny flesh.

Zoey stilled.

Her breathing was harder now, her fingers gripping the chains of the cuffs and holding on tight.

Giving her a moment to anticipate the next caress, he drew free the items he’d laid out earlier on the bed and covered with one of the pillows. The tube of lubrication and a vibrating dildo not quite the size of his own cock.

This had nothing to do with showing her what it would be like to take two lovers, though.

Smoothing his hand over her rear again, Doogan stroked her to her lower back before moving to grip her hips and pull her to her knees.

The sight of her juices lying heavy on the bare folds of her pussy caused his dick to clench in demand. He was so damned ready to fuck her. Where he was dying to fuck her required a bit of preparation, first.

“Doogan?” She whispered his name, the breathless, almost questioning pitch of her voice bringing a hard smile to his face.

She’d been so certain she could weather this as she had their first night together. Being a woman’s first was an honor to any man, he’d always thought. But this . . . He let his fingers caress along the narrow crease, his fingers once again finding the puckered little entrance he intended to be the first to take as well.

“So pretty.” And she was. She was so damned pretty. He’d never forgotten her after that dance six years ago. And his hunger for her had only grown. “And you have the sweetest ass, Zoey.”

His hand landed against the curve of her rear, the helpless moan that fell from her lips causing his teeth to clench as he fought for control.

As he lowered his head, his lips brushed over the slight blush his hand created, feeling the muscle tighten, feeling the little shiver that raced up her back. Holding her hips in place, he let his lips wander along the shallow crease, his tongue stroking, teasing until reaching the puckered entrance.

“Doogan . . .”

“Getting scared now, baby?” It wasn’t fear. He could feel the way her body pushed against him, then eased away, hesitant in the face of caresses she’d probably never considered.

“Scared? Never,” she scoffed, then whimpered in pleasure.

Flicking his tongue around the clenched entrance, he rimmed it teasingly as he lifted one hand and lowered it again in another of the heated little caresses.

She wasn’t frightened, not in the literal sense, but Doogan could sense the feminine instincts rioting as he touched her so intimately. Just as he could feel her pleasure in the soft, silky slide of moisture coating the intimate folds just below his lips.

She was so wet, so slick. For the first time since he’d begun having sex, he could feel his self-control fraying with the need to just fuck. To fill her, pump inside her, and ride them both into the storm of carnal hunger and need building inside him.

Controlling this woman’s passions and that instinctive Mackay arrogance and temperament would never be easy. She would always be a challenge. She would always be looking for a challenge.

Pulling back, he applied a heavy measure of the lubrication to his fingers.

With his free hand he caressed the rounded curve of her ass, tapped it again, just enough to create a sensual heat in the sensitive flesh and unlock the heart of the woman who would be his destruction.

—

Oh God, what was he doing to her?

Zoey gasped, her breath coming in hard pants, panicked excitement building in her. Arcs of fiery sensation detonated beneath the flesh of her rear, then raced through her bloodstream to a previously unknown depth of her sensuality.

This was crazy. With each little tap to her backside she was craving more. She ached for more of the heat that rode a line of pleasure and pain and only built a demand for more. His hand, broad and callused, tapped one cheek, then the next before returning and starting again. His tongue raked over that forbidden entrance, shocking her to her core, stealing her breath and tensing her body with an instinctive need to protest.

“Scared, Zoey?” The challenge in his voice, the dare she sensed in it, forced back the words she would have spoken, the plea she would have voiced that he release her.

She wasn’t scared.

She was . . .

“Oh God, Doogan,” she cried out at the feel of his finger, heavily lubricated and shockingly cool, pressing against the entrance now.

What was he doing to her?

“Should I stop, Zoey?” The knowing tone of his voice had her breathing in deep. The next tap to her rear had her back arching, fingers clenching into the blankets beneath. While her senses were locked in processing that new, fiery pleasure, that wicked finger pressed inside her, retreated, returned.