* * * *

  When we returned to the hotel, Michele walked me to my door, and we stood outside.

  I stared at him, mere inches separating us in the narrow corridor. The air between us pulsed with a desire that’d I’d never been able to completely shake but which had taken a backseat to the unexpectedness of the evening. That pulse was where I felt most comfortable, and glimpses of it had been my only anchor throughout the night, sparked by moments of contact or playful words he’d spoken. I’d been given hints that perhaps he’d been on his best behavior, but that thing we shared was never far beneath the surface.

  “Would you like to come in for a drink?” I asked, deciding to take my chance and feed the thing.

  Darkness swirled within the warm color of his eyes, glimmering with the prospect of what might happen should he agree.

  “I feel as though I should warn you,” he said. “I may not be able to keep my hands to myself if you invite me in.”

  His words drew my lips into a sultry smirk, and without another word, I unlocked my door.

  Stepping inside, I allowed it to remain open, a silent invitation that he was free to accept or ignore. The hotel had included a small bar with my room, nothing more than a stocked mini-fridge with some glasses overturned on top, but it was enough. I retrieved two travel-sized bottles of bourbon and poured them into two glasses.

  The door slid shut behind, and the lock clicked. My heart raced as the sound of his shoes against the tile floor crept closer and closer, a long, easy stride that helped him travel the distance in seconds.

  With a glass in each hand, I turned to face him. Michele’s demeanor had shifted, and the shadow of want had overtaken his features. The gentleman he’d been that evening was fading fast, leaving wickedness in its wake.

  I handed him his glass, which he drained of its contents in one swift gulp. He set it down on the nearest surface, his gaze never leaving mine. I sipped much slower, letting the burn of the amber liquid roll down my throat while I prepared myself for what would undoubtedly be a perfect end cap to the night.

  He watched, his body seemingly tight, as though waiting to spring the second I’d finished. Curious and willing to test the theory, I set my glass aside without finishing it. Michele reacted in an instant, snatching me by the waist and hauling me against his strong chest.

  Burying his face in the crook of my neck, he placed hot, aggressive kisses along my exposed skin. The feeling of his eager mouth on my body again sent a wave of pleasure coursing through my veins. I held his broad shoulders, my fingers biting into the fabric while he trailed a line along my jaw and to my lips, which he teased with the prospect of more, even though we both knew it never would.

  “What do you want tonight?” he asked, his voice twisted with the moment. “Tonight is your turn.”

  An evil chuckle rumbled in my throat.

  I slithered my hands up his neck and into his hair. Gathering my grip, I pulled, snapping his head back and exposing his perfect neck to me. He groaned, squeezing my body to his.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Forcing his head forward, which I allowed, he stared at me with eyes that’d gone black in those few seconds.

  He nodded, though it wasn’t enough for me.

  “Say it,” I said.

  I wanted his verbal consent because, to my mind, we were about to change our dynamic just enough that I needed him to be sure. What he said in response was fucking perfect.

  “Si, maestra.”

  A wave of tremors swept over me, igniting every cell that’d been teetering on the edge of consciousness. I quivered in his arms, a bright, wide smile breaking across my face. His eyes sparkled with silent pleasure at what he’d done.

  As I stepped out of his arms, I slid my hands along the sharp cut of his cheeks. I brushed my thumb over his perfect lips, which he kissed before I had released him.

  “Take off your clothes,” I said. “All of them.”

  The corners of his lips twitched, but a smile never fully formed.

  In the corner of the room near the large double doors that opened onto the canal rested a chair. I took a seat and crossed my legs, giving him my full attention.

  As he had in his suite on the ship, Michele removed his jacket first and laid it over the dresser nearby. With his gaze locked to mine, he unbuttoned the white shirt, which soon joined the jacket.

  And so it went, with him taking his time to remove each garment with care and placing them to the side until he stood in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

  The outline of his cock pressed against the expensive cotton, exaggerated but nothing compared to what I’d seen previously. In the corridor of The Silver Wind, it’d been so hard, so ready, that it pushed the garment away from his skin, a true tent pitched. In my hotel room, it hadn’t reached that point, but it was a breath away.

  When he hadn’t continued, I dragged my gaze up the length of his body and to his eye. Cocking a brow, I motioned toward them.

  “Everything,” I said.

  There’d been no hesitation on his part to comply, hooking his thumbs into the elastic band and removing them.

  Michele stood before me, naked, and for the first time I was able to enjoy it. While tied to his bed, emotion and want had clouded my eyes, and angle had prevented me from properly admiring the work he’d put into his form. That was no longer an issue.

  I ached at the sight of him, at the result of the love and care he’d clearly given his body. If further proof were needed that he was more than a man, I had it in that moment.

  Allowing my head to loll to the side, I inspected every inch of him from my seat and found focus on the obvious. His cock twitched under my gaze, growing thicker and more rigid with each passing second.

  With my thumbnail clamped tight between my teeth, I rose to my feet and closed the distance between us. His breathing hitched when I placed my hands against his chest, his heart thrumming beneath my palms.

  Staring into his beautiful eyes, I ran my fingers down his torso, over the dips of his abs, the crease created by the muscles over his hips and as far down his thighs as I could manage without bending to do so. His cock rose farther, pressing into my apex.

  “Lie on the bed.”

  He did.

  I turned my back to him, retrieving the cuffs that I’d placed in the top drawer of my dresser. Giving him my attention again, I spotted him lying at the head of the bed, propped on his elbows and watching me. I showed him the cuffs, a silent request that he answered by lying down and gripping the center bar of the wrought-iron frame.

  God, he’s perfect.

  Setting them down on his clothes, I unzipped my dress and stepped out of the mass that gathered on the floor, not willing to give it the same care as Michele had his wardrobe. It wasn’t my main concern. I had other plans.

  With the cuffs in hand again, I approached the bed, climbing onto it and him a second later. I had to focus on the task at hand and not the warmth of his stomach burning the inside of my thighs, or that thin lace panties were the only thing that separated us.

  Practiced motions made easy work of the task, of guiding the chain around the bar and securing his wrists in leather.

  Sitting upright, I stared at him, my pulse thundering and finding focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs.

  The muscles in his arms strained against his bronzed skin, rolling with each twitch of his hands. His eyes burned with something unspoken and his lips parted with heavy breaths.

  “Bellissimo,” I said. He let out a huff that might’ve been a laugh, but it’d become too twisted to sound like much.

  Bracing myself above him, I lowered my body. My breasts brushed his chest, the friction enough to make my nipples bead. I leaned into him, teasing his lips with mine.

  His eyes drifted shut while he rose to meet me.

  “If you want me to stop,” I whispered, nipping tenderly at his bottom lip, “tell me and I will.”

  I flicked the tip of my tongue against his upper lip and, to my surprise, he lunged forward to catch it, giving a soft, delicate kiss that made me shiver.

  Relaxing into the pillow again, he opened his heavy lids. “I’ll never tell you to stop.”

  My breath caught in my throat. There could’ve been no way to miss the sincerity and sureness of the statement, not when I was so close.

  A desire to accept the challenge rose within me but vanished an instant later. I wasn’t a sadist. My kink wasn’t to inflict pain on my willing partner until they used the safeword we’d agreed on. I tended to lean toward the bondage aspect, though admittedly hadn’t gone far beyond being restrained. I also enjoyed the masochism, a bit of pain to heighten the moment.

  But when given the chance to be the Dominant, I preferred to make my partner feel torturous levels of want. I wanted to make them beg me to continue, not stop. I suppose it was safe to say that I enjoyed the BDM side of BDSM.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Taking his jaw in my hand, I pushed his head back to expose his neck, biting into it just hard enough to make him hiss.

  I continued down his body, trailing kisses and nips along his chest. Clamping my teeth on his nipple awarded me another groan, the sharp snap of pain I’d caused soothed away by a sweep of my tongue.

  Michele writhed beneath me, twisting and shifting to meet my mouth as I worked my way down. I teased his stomach, raking my fingernails over his sides.

  Each inch I descended forced his cock to drag along my body, digging into my skin and telling me how much he liked what I was doing.

  Kissing his hip, I shifted out of the way, allowing his dick to bounce free. I lifted my gaze. Michele was sitting up as best he could manage, the muscles in his stomach straining to comply. His features had grown dark, rife with frustrated anticipation. It was a look I loved.

  Grasping the base of his cock caused his veneer to crack, his brows twitching. The silk-covered steel in my hand pulsed with each erratic heartbeat.

  Keeping my eye locked to his, I opened my mouth and ran the flat of my tongue up his shaft, following that thick vein to the top.

  A strangled moan filled the room. All at once, Michele shuddered as though he’d been left in subzero temperatures through the night, every inch of him quaking while his head fell back. It was as though I’d given him release just with my tongue.

  I hadn’t, but I could.

  The chain ground against the wrought iron, scraping and clawing.

  When I reached the head, I twirled my tongue around it once, twice, then guided him into my mouth. His breathing became labored, deep huffs that sounded more than a bear’s grunt than anything human. All the while, he strained against the cuffs.

  After taking him as deep as I could, I retreated, sucking hard and stroking what hadn’t fit. I was slow, deliberate and more than capable of prolonging the moment.

  I’d always loved to suck the dick of such a responsive partner. It fed my ego to have that sort of power over someone else’s pleasure.

  Up and down, twisting and sucking, I even took his balls into my mouth just to hear more of his primal sounds, but it’d begun to take its toll on me, too.

  Rising from the bed, I drew his eye. The color had fled completely, his pupils so dilated that they’d become blacker than pitch. He bit down hard, grinding his teeth and causing the muscle in his jaw to cord. His knuckles were white with the pressure of his clenched fists. Everything had become so rigid that if he were glass, the slightest touch would break him.

  I could do that, too.

  “Where is it?” I asked, a dusky tone infecting my words.

  Michele jutted his chin toward his clothes. “Jacket pocket.”

  While barely above a whisper, he’d barked the words.

  I went to his pile of clothing and dug into the breast pocket of his jacket, finding the prize in an instant. Whether he’d anticipated anything for the night or not, I was happy one of us had had the foresight to bring a condom.

  Clasping it in my teeth, I gave the man my attention again. I removed my bra, letting it fall carelessly to the floor like the dress.

  His gaze landed on my chest with sharp focus. He jerked on the cuffs, filling the suite with the clank of metal on metal once more. My panties soon joined the rest of it and on my trek toward the bed, I stepped out of my heels.

  Straddling his thighs, I tore through the shimmering package and removed the latex disk.

  He jerked on the chain again, and in the back of my head, I noted a strange sound that shouldn’t have been there, but ignored it in favor of what I wanted.

  Placing it on the head of his dick, I slid the condom down, staring unblinkingly into his eyes. His breathing had become shallower, filled with anticipation.

  I adjusted myself above him, guiding his cock up and down the length of my slit, teasing my clit and spreading my excitement. The hard resolve that’d been plastered across his face cracked and wavered while he watched.

  “It’s my turn to fuck you,” I said.

  His gaze shot to mine. “Assolutamente.”

  The bulbous tip did little to prepare me for the sheer size of him as I lowered myself. My head fell back, strangled gasps falling from my lips as I sank, shoving him deeper and deeper. That night in his room hadn’t prepared me for the truth. I’d been so consumed and it’d happened so fast that it had left me unprepared to have him fully seated inside.

  Drawing air into my lungs had become downright impossible when I settled.

  Planting my hands on his stomach, I forced myself to look at him. He didn’t seem to fair much better, scarlet flashes adorning his cheeks, his bottom lip clamped tight in his teeth and his arms trembling under the strength of his grip.

  I wanted to keep moving, but for those few seconds, I couldn’t make it happen.

  Determination soon took over, and whether ready for it or not, I rose onto my knees. I felt every millimeter of his retreat, lamenting it all until I reached the tip and dropped. He grunted, the bed’s springs protested, but I was only getting started.

  My style was to take my time, to wring every drop of frustration and joy out of the moment that I could, and I’d been close to managing that with him, for about thirty seconds. Honestly, I was surprised I’d lasted that long.

  The bed’s stiff springs aided me. I timed my thrusts with them until I’d found my rhythm bouncing on his cock, allowing him to hit depths he hadn’t managed on the ship. It was a task I’d once thought utterly impossible.

  Sparks of pleasure pulsated each time I ground my clit against his pelvic bone, building layers to my joy. I strained to stare at him, to watch the way my actions affected him.

  The sounds of sex soon saturated the room, of flesh slapping against flesh, of a bed fighting to keep up and the animalistic grunts of the man between my legs. It created a heady mix that was hard for me to brush off. It infected me—and I wasn’t the only one.

  More than once, Michele had attempted to meet me in stride, to participate, and that wasn’t allowed. He knew it. He was meant to lie there and take it just as I had, but he struggled, and it was perfect.

  Gripping the base of his throat, I forced him to look at me. He did, his lip twitching each time I threw myself down on him. His heartbeat thundered beneath my fingers, the vein on the side of his neck fluttering erratically.

  Fire raged within his eyes, hungry and untamable. It demanded satiation, demanded to be set free. I would give him the release he craved, but in the meantime, I stopped.

  The room went silent as though someone had pushed pause on a movie. It hurt, I couldn’t lie, but the sight of his eyes flying open in shock had been a delicious thing to witness.

  “W-what are you doing?”

  “Whatever I want,” I replied.

  “No!” He jerked harder on the chain than he ever had, and it didn’t sound good. “Don’t stop,” he said, meeting my eye. His brows pooled and desperation flashed in his eyes. “Per favore, non fermarti.”

  I had no idea what he’d said, but context told me he’d likely begged. And to hear those words pass those luscious lips was something I’d wanted for some time.

  “Are you telling me what to do?”

  He shook his head, but the frustration was hard to ignore.

  “Perhaps I should just…”

  I pushed myself onto my knees, sliding up his length at an agonizing pace until reaching the very tip. Michele was so close to slipping out of me that a breath would’ve been enough and the panic it induced astounded me.

  “No, no, no, no.”

  He’d spoken the words through clenched teeth, pulling and jerking and yanking on the cuffs in frustration until they snapped. No longer able to cope with the power of the man they bound, the thin links crumbled under the pressure.

  The suddenness of it stunned us both. I’d never expected the cuffs’ chain to break, which was either a statement on how weak they’d been or an indication of how strong he was.

  Michele looked at his hands then to me and, without the slightest prompting, he reached above his head and gripped the bars. He relaxed against the mattress with a breath and waited.

  A number of emotions swirled inside me in that moment. There would’ve been nothing that could have stopped him from taking what he wanted, from reclaiming the Dominant position in our little game, and, given the circumstances, I would’ve understood completely. Hell, I would have been too swept up in the chaos and desire to stop it.

  But he hadn’t. In that brief second of clarity, he’d chosen to continue as we were, whether bound or not. He wanted me to be the one in charge, trusted me enough with him and his pleasure that there was no need for the cuffs at all. No one had ever done that before. For all the men that I’d been with who claimed to be switches like me, not one of them had ever really embraced me being Dominant in any regard…until Michele.

  As a reward, I rolled my hips. His eyelids fluttered. I did it again, lowering myself once more.

  Leaning forward, I cradled his jaw, bringing my mouth to his while I continued to grind into him.