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clench with the need to be filled by him.
    His satyr smile edged up her desire even more as he slid her bra along her arms. With a wicked grin, he tied it around her wrists then re-clasped it around one of the brass rungs of the bed.
    “No fair,” she protested even though being tied up for him made her so hot she could barely think.
    “Life’s not fair, sweetness,” he growled, his brogue now almost as thick as the one Patrick had put on yesterday. God, she loved the accent on him. “And now you’re all mine. At my mercy.”
    She pulled at her wrists, not really trying to get free. “I was all yours before.”
    “Perhaps you should know,” he said. “I have a penchant for tyin’ up my woman.”
    At the moment, she had a penchant for being tied up by him. Who would have known? She’d never been tied up before, and her body had never responded so strongly to a man before either. Danger lurked inside him—nothing that would physically harm her. No, it was something that could possess her soul.
    “I think you should have a penchant for removing your pants,” she said.
    “In time,” he promised. Taking his time, he molded her breasts. His fingers pulled the nipples, pinching and twisting to bring her the slightest pain but great bolts of pleasure. Her body vibrated with it, her pulse pounding, her blood burning. Her pussy was so wet, she knew his cock had to be damp with it even through his pants.
    “More,” she whispered, breathing heavily.
    Ignoring her plea, he abandoned her chest to move downward. His breath was hot on her as his thumbs caught her labia and spread her wide. She screeched as he licked the length of her. She whimpered against the intense laps over and over as he took his time tasting her, dipping inside her channel—barely—and circling her clit. When his lips closed on the needy bud, sucking hard, her hips jerked from the bed. Release rocketed through her.
    “Jamie,” she screamed. On and on it went as he suckled ruthlessly on the tiny nub. “Jamie, oh God, please Jamie,” she begged. The clasp of her bra rasped on the brass post that held her as she struggled under her desire. But he wasn’t ready to let up on the tension coiling inside her. Two fingers thrust inside her quivering passage as he nipped at her clit. He rose over her, his fingers never relenting, and made tiny bites up her belly to her breast where his teeth scrapped over one tip.
    She bucked against him, needing him and crying out when his hand disappeared from her cunt. A moment later, she groaned in relief as his cock lined up with her opening. Her legs wrapped around him, urging him forward and she felt the fabric of his pants against her thighs. He’d opened his trousers and pushed them down just enough to free himself. Before she could think on it, he surged forward filling her with his thickness and stretching her passage. He didn’t pause for her to adjust—she didn’t want him, too.
    Staring into her face with rigid determination in his green eyes, he pistoned in and out of her and claimed her as no one ever had. It didn’t matter who she’d fucked before or who she might after, he was making her his. And she gave herself over to him, glorying in the feel of his possession and the rawness of being bound while he wasn’t fully undressed.
    Her climax clawed up on her fast. She arched off the bed and pressed into him as hard as she could, taking him deeply as she could.
    “Oh God, Rayna,” he gasped, still driving forward. “So tight… Yes, sweetness…”
    He stiffened, and she felt his release pour into her. The heat seemed to flood through her. She groaned, having an overwhelming sense of closeness to him. His head dropped to her shoulder, and he reached up, freeing her. She hugged him, the closeness morphing to protectiveness as he breathed heavily. Her hand smoothed over his back, each ridge of damaged flesh piercing her. She prayed nothing would hurt this man again.
    Rising on his elbows, he