He stroked her hair away from her face, studying her carefully, his eyes intent and hot…very hot. Without speaking, he moved to her left breast. Around and around. How could they possibly feel tighter? she wondered, hearing a low whine escape her.

“Yes, give me the sounds.” The leather flicked sharply over her peaked left nipple.

The sudden sting bit like sharp teeth into the sensitive tip and felt as if he’d also struck her clit. “Ah!” Her spine tried to arch; her hands jerked; nothing moved. The feeling of being trapped passing into complete heat as he flicked her right nipple.

Back and forth, leaving only enough time for the bite of pain to dissipate before hitting the other nipple. Her breasts felt as if they were on fire yet so very, very swollen and needy.

He bent and pulled a peak into his mouth, gentle lips, heat, but when he sucked, pulling strongly, her whole body shook like a leaf. Oh God.

As he changed to the other nipple, hot, sucking, her insides started to coil, pressure building inside.

His brown eyes met hers as he lifted his head. “You’re very close to coming, gatita.”

She swallowed, wanting to beg. Please, please, now. He wouldn’t, she knew. The knowledge that he had control, everything was up to him, and she could do nothing about it increased her need as if someone had opened her motor to full throttle, sending excitement humming through her.

He trailed his hand down her body, soothing the little bites the crop had left over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs.

The crop smacked her thigh again. Slightly harder, like a kitten with sharp milk teeth. Up toward her pussy, over her mound, down her leg. Aching. She could feel her engorged clit trying to extend, trying for attention, and she shuddered with fearful anticipation.

Up her leg again, only this time, the flicks hit her outer labia. Pinpricks of pain, up and down her newly shaved, tender flesh, each time closer to the apex. To her clit.

Her breath hitched as he almost…

The crop lifted. Everything inside her tightened. Her inner folds were swollen, wet, as a cool breeze washed over her. Her vulnerable clit pulsed, filling her world. She stared at the crop, in the air, as her muscles pulled against the restraints.

His eyes met hers.

The crop hit directly on her clit. Pain. Pleasure. The sensations mixed, raw and brutal, exploding up and out. Her body tried to shake itself free as the waves of pleasure ripped through her. The scream turned to gasping wails as her pussy contracted over and over.

She pulled in a breath.

The only warning was a touch at her entrance, and then he sheathed his cock in her with one merciless thrust. She gasped in shock. He was too big, her tissues too swollen.

His groin brushed over her abused clit, sending waves and waves of pleasure and pain ripping through her again. He held still for a second, letting her adjust, then looked her in the eyes. “I’m going to take you hard now.”

He didn’t ask permission. God, he felt so huge inside her. She tried to move, and the straps held her in place. Open. She felt possessed, taken. Owned.

Leaning forward onto one forearm, he pushed in deeper. “Look at me, gatita.” His voice was rougher, lower. “Keep your eyes on me.” His free hand curled under her ass, making the stripes there burn as he pulled back. And then he drove into her, using his legs, his hips. The piercing was like a solid finger rubbing her right…right on that inside spot. God.

Kimberly’s pussy contracted around Raoul, hot and slick, battering at his dick. Dios, he’d missed being inside her, missed the connection. In his mind, this was the proper way to end a scene between a couple. Making love confirmed the bonds they’d built.

He squeezed his little sub’s ass, knowing it would hurt, seeing her response in the quivering of her thighs, feeling the way her cunt clutched him.

The legs-high position made her extremely tight, the tugging of the piercing waking every nerve in his cock. He thrust hard again, letting his body tell her, show her, what he would soon say to her. Mine. Mine to possess, to protect, to push, to cherish. To love.

He pounded into her, slowing to run his hands over her breasts, the nipples puffy now, and each tiny pinch on a peak made her pussy tighten. Her blue, blue eyes stayed on his as he picked up the pace. He wasn’t trying to last. She’d had enough, but they both needed this to complete what they had done here.

And she felt so hot, so wet, her cunt was still pulsing around him in a lingering orgasm. He pushed in harder, feeling her cervix against the head of his shaft. His balls pulled up tighter, contracting. Just. One. More. Thrust. And then the heat flowed through his shaft so violently, in such intense pleasure, that his hand tightened on her ass, and she squeaked.

He pulled out and pushed back in, his climax not ending, as if his cock wanted to hold out, to stay inside her. His chest heaved as he fought for air. Sweat trickled down the hollow of his back.

He looked into her eyes, seeing her utter submission, her joy in giving him pleasure, in giving herself. The tie between them was almost palpable, and he wanted her in his arms so badly he almost shook with the need.

He kissed her softly and then pulled out with a pang of regret that matched her soft sigh. Moving back, he pressed a quick kiss to her stomach and smiled against the quivering softness.

Dios, he loved her. And her courage. He hadn’t pulled back. He’d demanded from her what they both needed, and she’d given him…everything. The scene, the sex… Both had answered his worries, made her sure of herself. The connection between them was stronger than ever.

He smiled. The bridge was built, was open, and ready for traffic.

After doing up his jeans, he moved to give her a long, long kiss. “I love you, sumisita mía” he whispered and was surprised when her eyes pooled with tears despite her smile.

Always touching her, he released the straps, rubbing her skin lightly to help the blood return, massaging her shoulders and hip joints. Finally she struggled to a sitting position.

The people on the patio were silent, not wanting to interrupt. Raoul glanced their way. Cullen grinned, his little sub obviously riding him; Marcus had Gabi in front of him and his hand in her shorts. Raoul’s lips twitched. Must have been as hot from the outside as it was from the inside.

Z moved Jessica off his own lap, picked up a tightly rolled blanket from the table beside him, and walked over to hand it to Kimberly.

She started to unfold it, and Z shook his head, so she wrapped her arms around the bundle. He touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips, smiled at Raoul, and returned to his sub.

With a sigh of pleasure, Raoul gathered up his woman, soft and warm and fragrant, fitting…just right…in his arms. After kissing the top of her head, he carried her across the patio, down the steps, and onto the beach.

He went to her favorite spot, the weathered white Adirondack chair. As he settled her against him with a sigh of contentment, she buried her face in his neck, starting to tremble.

The aftermath was catching up with her.

With his arms around her, he awkwardly unfolded the blanket Z had given her and found a bottle of water, a tube of ointment…and his collar. Clever dom. After setting everything to the side of the chair, he wrapped her in the thin blanket then pulled her closer. He still felt so in tune with her that he knew when she started to unravel.

She looked up at him, her expression vulnerable, everything open to his gaze. “I missed you so much,” she whispered. “And I was lonely.” Her eyes filled with tears.

He stroked her cheek, recognizing her need. “Cry for me now, Kimberly.”

“Cry for me.” A dom’s command. Kim stared into his face. He was here, really here, and she hurt, and everything inside her felt as if he’d ripped away all the bandages over her emotions, and he was really here. A sob wrenched out of her, a belated sound since tears already streamed down her face. She buried her face in his neck, breathed him in, and cried.

Cried for the weeks apart and for missing him and for his gift of a furry protector. For him losing his family and finding them again, and for her fear of today and the whip, and because her back hurt like hell, and eventually, she realized she was telling him all that in between her sobs.

He’d laid his cheek on top of her head and was murmuring encouragement, Spanish mingling with English.

After a shuddering breath, she looked up. His eyes crinkled, and he dug a cotton handkerchief from his jeans pocket. A handkerchief.

As she wiped her face, she muttered, “You knew this would happen. I cry way too much around you. I never used to cry at all, so this is all your fault.”

He laughed, low and pleased, knocking her heart over as if it had tripped. “But no, gatita, I think you’re making up for lost time. Eventually it will settle down.”

“One can only hope.” She gave him a soft kiss, enjoying the slow movement of his mouth on hers. “I love you.”

He rubbed his nose against hers and then resettled her on his lap before holding a bottle of water to her lips. After she’d finished most of it, he wrapped the blanket back around her.

With a finger under her chin, he asked, “Kimberly, did you have anything to do with my mother and sister visiting me this morning?”

She jerked and realized she’d given herself away. Oh damn. Her turn.

Gabi and Jessica had already gotten in trouble. That nasty Cullen had called Z and Marcus and told on them. Talk about pissed-off doms.