The Seller

He reached in, secured the clamp around her nipple, and closed it.

Heat rushed over her entire skin form the sting on her nipple, peaking in the sensitive flesh of her core. "Oh god."

"Another?"

She panted for breath, enjoying the heady rush of endorphins that accompanied the pain. Nodding quickly, she shifted to give him access.

He stroked her loose hair, pushing it to one side across her shoulder blades, then secured the second nipple clamp.

The ringing dart of pleasure/pain threatened to make her pass out. Then it became manageable. Nevertheless it kept her on the edge of crying out, sexual need swamping her.

He moved behind her, grabbed at her panties and pulled them down to her kneed, baring her bottom. A moment later he'd tugged them right off — ripping them in the process — then she felt cool metal around her ankles, and he nudged her legs further apart. The entirety of her nether region was on display, open and vulnerable.

Glancing back, she saw the metal bar he'd spread her with.

He rose to his feet and stepped away again.

Quickly undoing his shirt buttons, he cast it aside, then he lounged back in the chair, and simply looked at her.

With a side-eye glance, she noticed how regal he looked, even though he was stripped to the waist and barefoot, his fitted trousers almost incongruous – a reminder of the smart businessman who currently appeared more wolf-like than sophisticated. His firm, sensuous mouth made her ache for him. His chiseled cheekbones and hard jaw line seemed to be a visual symbol of the inner strength that called to her. It wasn't just that he was attractive and powerful looking. He had that elusive quality of a man in control. Ultimate control — how could she not admire that?

Sexual anxiety had her strung out with need. The pumping music added its own sense of urgency to the moment. She

shifted restlessly and found she could scarcely move. The spreader bar had not only opened her to his eyes, it had anchored her to the spot. In moments, he'd revealed just how easily he could take charge and introduce her to new, exciting and arousing experiences. Now he made her wait until her anticipation built even more. Lucas had made her beg for it before —which turned her on immensely, much to her initial surprise— is that what he wanted now?

Doubts rose quickly to the surface if she had to think too deeply about what she was doing, about what she was giving away about herself when she submitted to him sexually.

"Your hair," he whispered, distracting her, "it's like a fiery curtain. So red and rich, I adore it. It turns me on." His gaze covered her. "You make the most beautiful pet."

There was that word again.

She braced herself. "Is that what you want, a pet?"

"Only if it's you."

A trickle of relief ran through her. It didn't stem the urgent need that held her in thrall.

"Do you mind me thinking of you in those terms?"

Erotic suggestion hung in the atmosphere between them.

She struggled to deliver her response. "It's…strange. Intimate, I suppose. Personal, somehow."

"I mean to be personal with you, on every level." There was no hesitation in his come back.

Up close and personal. Again she swayed. His provocative stare had her entire skin prickling. One corner of his mouth lifted. He watched her every movement, as if each and every thing she did was important to him. It made her intensely self-aware.

"Please, Lucas. You've got me in a state," she tripped on her words, her rising objection making her speak before thinking. "I can't think straight because I want you so much."

When he lifted an eyebrow knowingly, she looked at the floor.

"I want you too," he replied, "but the better I know you, the better this will be."

"It's already too good," she blurted, then bit her lip, realizing what she'd said. She wanted it all, but she was afraid of getting too deep, afraid she would submit to him and lose herself totally.

He rose to his feet.

She noticed the bulky erection inside his business suit pants. Nervous butterflies gathered in her stomach.