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just asked you out, you’d have been
nervous and jittery. Unsure. You might have run away when I told you the things
I hoped to do to you. Instead you came looking. You came to me.”
    “Where’d you get the napkins?”
    “Dan.”
    I thought about my mercenary co-worker. Before I could ask the
next question, Jules said, “A dollar a napkin. He’s been saving them for
me.”
    He stripped off his own clothes and then crawled back on the
mattress. We were surrounded by my pictures, drawings of people fucking, of
couples overlapping, of handcuffs, and blindfolds and toys. There was him. There
was me.
    Jules moved up my body and parted my legs. I could not wait for
him to thrust inside me. My whole being was poised on the edge of that
precipice. Was he going to tease me some more? Make me beg? Demand I tell him
exactly what was running through my mind? Thankfully, no. He slid the head of
his cock inside me, and I sighed and relaxed. Oh, this was sweetness. This was
heaven and light. And then he started to move, pounding into me, thrusting hard.
I had never felt anything like this. I was captured by the cuffs, but my body
could still respond, my hips raised to meet his, my thighs spread apart. He used
one hand to touch me, running his palm over my ribs, over the flat of my belly,
then down to my pussy.
    “Oh, yes,” I hissed. “Just like that.”
    Lust bloomed bright within me.
    As he fucked me, he stroked my clit, light and easy at first,
then rougher as the passion built between us. I shut my eyes tight, but he said,
“No, Kate, look at me.” And then, “Please, Kate. For me.” Surprising me because
he sounded almost as if he were the one begging.
    I opened my eyes. I stared at him.
    We were connected, bound together somehow, even as I was the
one bound down. The handcuffs rattled as he thrust inside of me, reminding me
with every beat that I was his captive. And yet somehow, somehow, I felt as if
we’d set each other free.
    How neatly our bodies fit together. I’d never paused to wonder,
to worry, whether we’d be compatible. If his parts would interlock with my
parts. Thankfully they did. Perfectly. His cock seemed made for my body. Each
time he drove forward, I felt my muscles contract, as if wanting to hold him to
me forever. My hands were useless, but I possessed plenty of other powers. My
legs around his body, pulled him to me.
    Jules used his thumb right against my clit as he fucked me,
finding a rhythm that made sense—the rhythm of my blood, of my heart, or maybe
of our hearts beating together. We were in complete synch. He worked me
steadily, and I kept our connection solid, gazing into his deep blue eyes—the
color of cobalt, rich and dark. Even as I wanted to hide, even as the pleasure
became almost insurmountable, I kept staring into his eyes. Seeing him. Really
seeing him. How was he doing this? How did he know?
    “I’m going to…” I gasped, teetering right on the cusp.
    “Yes, yes,” he said. “Come for me, Kate. Come with me.”
    The climax was different from any I’d ever had. Better.
Beautiful. I felt electrified, as if every single part of my body was coming at
the same time, as if I were all lit up with fairy lights. Jules bucked hard
inside me, fucking me so hard I felt the bed shake. Then he stilled, his strong
arms coming tight around my body, his cheek pressed to my cheek.
    “I found you,” he said. “You showed me the keyholes. I had the
key.”
    I realized he was right. He’d played me.
    And we’d won.
    * * * * *

If you liked this story, don’t miss Alison
Tyler’s A Taste of Chi Available now from Spice
Briefs wherever ebooks are sold.

    I’d been with Andrew for seven years—and we hadn’t made love once.
You would think two expert yoga instructors would have incredible sex, but he
believed it was a waste of chi, a loss of vital life force. And slowly he made
me think the same way, taming the sexuality that was once so fervent in me.

    Then Cormac Smith walked into