Sage looked more gorgeous than he ever remembered, outfitted in a slinky gold gown that accentuated every incredible inch of her body as she led him up the spiral staircase to the “exclusive” rooms on the lounge’s top floor. He followed her down a hall with purple velvet wallpaper softly lit by frosted glass sconces. All the doors were closed. He couldn’t hear a sound, except some tinny opera singer pounding out Amazing Grace. Well, it was a step up from Sunday School, he supposed.

Finally, she stopped. Pushed open a door, smiling serenely. She motioned him into the room like a gameshow model showing off a new car. Garrett dipped his head, hoping he looked a gentleman despite feeling everything but, before stepping through.

Before she shut the door with a quiet click, his dick surged in heightened agony.

There was a four-poster bed…and she was kneeling in the middle of it. The golden gown was gone. She was gloriously nude…and blindfolded. Her hands rested against green satin sheets. Fuck, the sheets were a great touch. The color nearly matched her magical, beautiful eyes…

His cock jumped again, and he grunted from the pressure. She reacted with a little shiver. Again, so damn perfect. He approached the bed, stirring the shadows thrown by candles positioned on shelves around the room. The only other light in the chamber came from two small gooseneck lamps. One was aimed right at her. The other was bent toward a small table loaded with sinful sexual discipline toys.

He watched her pretty white teeth sneak out and bite her lower lip. “Oh, yeah,” he rasped, stepping closer.

* * *

“Garrett? Garrett!”

“Mmmmpph.” He dragged his eyes open. Sort of. He glared at the meaty hand on his bicep and then up into Z’s carved face. Before his friend could react and yank the bottle away, he grabbed it closer, swigging hard.

“Holy fuck. You really want to land in medical for alcohol poisoning?”

“Shut up.” He grabbed the bottle’s neck, upending all the cute grey geese, dousing himself in the last two inches of vodka in the process. Well, that was one way of ensuring he got the last shot.

“Jesus,” Z muttered.

“Loves you,” he grumbled back. “Now lee…mah…alone.”

He closed his eyes. Sucked in a rough breath. Fell fully into the fantasy of his drunk, delirious psyche. Into the golden, gorgeous nudity…of her…

* * *

He tugged off his boots and shucked his shirt. Sage surrendered to another shiver. Her areolas tightened and darkened around her pinpointed nipples. Beneath those erect peaks, her lungs hitched on uneven breaths.

Her nervousness clutched at deep, primal places inside him. It drew him to crawl onto the mattress and then kneel in front of her. He stroked her soft, quivering mouth with the pads of his fingers. As if knowing what he needed, she parted her lips and raised her face.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmured. “All of it. You know what I want to do here…what we’re going to do.”

A sweet, sensual sigh escaped her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please, Sir…I want this.”

He descended his fingers to the place where her jaw joined her throat. “You’re certain? You know exactly what I want? You’ll surrender to me. Your body will be mine. Every move you make, every drop of your arousal, every sigh and scream you give, will be mine to call and command.”

He felt a whimper vibrate in her larynx. She nodded softly but said nothing.

“Speak it,” he dictated. “Tell me again.”

“Yes.” The word was barely a breath. “Yes…please…yes.”

A responding groan thundered through him. He dipped his head, devouring her mouth in a deep kiss. He rolled their tongues and meshed their breaths while she tunneled both hands to his neck and scratched dual tracks down to his collarbone. The pain was perfect. If she needed this half as bad as he, his control would be an easier burden to bear.

He forced her wrists to the small of her back and held them there. The motion flattened their bodies to each other. His beautiful girl moaned, opening her mouth wider for him.

Hell. Fucking. Yes.

When the kiss ended, he tugged his eyes open. He gazed at her bruised lips, the supplicating tilt of her face, the ripples of fear in her forehead as she wondered what he’d do next. Garrett raised his free hand to trace the edge of her blindfold with his fingers.

“Your safe word is ‘truth.’” He issued the order in a coarse rasp. “Repeat it to me.”

She lifted her mouth in a smile. She looked like a little girl about to get a trip to the candy store—except that she was naked, blindfolded, and about to be helplessly bound beneath him.

“Truth.” She rendered the compliance with breathy ease.

He rewarded her with another long, wet kiss. During it, he released her hands and shifted his own to her breasts. He cupped the taut swells, rejoicing as her nipples went hard against his fingers. “I’ve missed these.” He dragged his thumbnails across the erect tips. “Have they missed me, too?”

“Yes.”

He answered her whisper with a pleased growl. “Very nice, sugar. Now give it up a little louder.”

He underlined the command by twisting both her hard peaks. She arched against him, her head jackknifing back. “Ohhhh! Mmmm, yes!”

“Good girl,” Garrett murmured. “That’s my good, gorgeous girl.” He stroked her reddened nipples, easing her pain, adoring her more for her obedience. She leaned toward him, seeking him out with her hands, which shook in her blind quest for connection to him.

When her fingers hit the ridges of his abdomen, she gasped. Her pleasure doubled his, but the craving took over again, the demand his system issued for complete power over hers. With a grunt, he grabbed her hand and then formed her fingers tight around the throbbing ridge in his khakis.

“If you want to touch me, fine—but you touch what I tell you to. Right now, that means my cock. Stroke it like you want it, sugar.”

“Yes.” The word was merely a breath. She groped his sack and pulled his khakis tight around his stalk. He could only take the torment for about thirty seconds before unzipping and bursting free into her eager fingers.

“Fuck.” The word spilled out as she grazed his balls with her nails. Again, as she stroked up his length, applying perfect pressure. His head fell back. “Holy fuck. Where’d you learn to do that?”

Sage purred softly against his chest as she rounded the hot bulb of his cockhead, her fingers teasing, squeezing, caressing. “You’re so beautiful, Sir.”

His senses careened. Wait. Why did she sound so different? So…distant?

“I love touching you like this. Serving you. I’ve missed this cock so much. I need it. Order me to suck it. Please, Garrett…”

Whispers now. Her voice and her touch.

No. No.

He groaned and then flailed, searching for her. Words erupted from him, primal snarls now, fighting to keep the fantasy alive.

“Quiet, damn it.” He pushed her hands back, thrusting her breasts back up at him. He fiercely suckled them both, committing their succulent taste to the wild fog of his memory. Why couldn’t he remember anything? “You speak only when I ask for it, sugar. Is that understood?”

Her head dropped. “I am sorry, Sir.”

While she spoke the contrition, he left the bed in order to kick off his pants. “Don’t be sorry with your words. Be sorry with your body.” As he pivoted and considered the rack of toys, he instructed, “We’ve discussed the rules, haven’t we? You’re mine tonight. Completely. You belong only to me, and you will obey me, Sage.”

Her breath audibly snagged. “Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Now, you’ll lie down for your punishment like a good girl. Your lesson is going to be five swats on your spread pussy. My discipline will continue when I fuck the rest of your lesson into you.”

Her breath caught again, though she said nothing else. With measured movements, she moved into place. The sound of her limbs sliding against the sheets, eager and acquiescent, made his cock swell more. The damn thing was at a parallel angle to the floor. He tried his best to ignore the torment while he considered the choices on the rack but gave up the effort when his gaze settled on a riding crop that had a custom feature. The leather tongue at the end of the rod had been slit and inset with a handful of longer leather strips, turning the instrument into a mini flogger too. With a swift flick, he tested the toy on his thigh. The swatter delivered a good sting, though the sensation came in two waves, drawing out the heat of the impact. Interesting—and intoxicating. He’d make her scream and squirm.