"No! You love me, don't you?" Tears sprang to her eyes once again. "Isn't love supposed to be enough?"
He searched her eyes. "I hope it is."
"It is." She wrapped her arms around him. "Please. Just take me as I am. Love me."
"I do love you. More than anything."
"Good." She tugged his pants down. "Then hurry."
"We have all night. Don't rush me."
But he was ready. So ready. "I want you." She reached out to touch him.
"Wait a minute." He lowered her to the floor, and she immediately locked her legs around his waist.
"Love slave." She lifted her hips to rub herself against him. "Take me now."
He pushed her hips down. "Not now."
"Yes, now. What about the term 'love slave' do you not understand?"
He chuckled. "I was the first one to declare my love. So I get the first turn."
"We're taking turns?"
"Yes. Me first."
She suppressed a smile. For a love slave, he was very domineering. But even their little power struggles turned her on. "You think you're in charge here?"
"I know I am." He fished her terry-cloth belt from her robe.
"Maybe I just let you think you're in charge." She frowned as he looped the belt around her wrists. "What are you doing?"
"I intend to explore you thoroughly. I can't do it if you keep rushing me." He pulled her arms above her head and tied the terry-cloth ends around a leg of the coffee table.
She tugged at the belt, then smiled. He'd tied her so loosely, she could free her hands whenever she wanted. "So who made you the boss?"
"I did. Feel free to register your complaints."
"I will. You—You're—" She sucked in a breath when his tongue tickled her neck. "You're overbearing."
"Mmm-hmm." With his tongue, he licked a path down to her breasts.
"You're a caveman." She shivered as his tongue circled her nipple. "Pushy and completely ob-ob—"
He sucked her nipple into his mouth.
"Obnoxious!"
He tugged on the hardened tip, and she moaned.
The ache between her legs grew more desperate. "Phil, please."
"You're not begging, are you?" He nibbled down her belly.
"Never."
"Good, 'cause it won't sway me. This is still my turn, and I'm not done with you." He slipped two fingers inside her.
She jolted.
"You're so wet." He waggled his fingers. "So beautiful."
She panted, gasping for air. Oh God, it felt so good.
Her legs tensed. Her hips lifted.
And his fingers withdrew. The building crescendo keeled over and fell flat.
"Ack!" She'd never felt so desperate. "What was that?"
"Trust me." He dove between her legs.
She squealed at the feel of his tongue. He tickled and teased, suckled and nipped.
The tension slammed back into her full force, stealing her breath away. Oh God, if this was how he took his turn, he could take the whole night. A whole fortnight. Her sight dimmed. Her ears hummed. All feelings, all thoughts, zeroed in on his wicked mouth.
She screamed as a massive convulsion racked her body. She writhed, oblivious to everything but the delicious shudders.
She gasped when he entered her suddenly. "Phil." She freed her hands from the belt. "Are you trying to kill me?"
He smiled and kissed her brow. "Hang in there, sweetheart. It's still my turn."
Several hours later, Phil lay flat on his back in a sated stupor.
"Phil," Vanda whispered in his ear.
He groaned. Was it his turn again? He'd lost count. After his last turn, he'd thought he was completely spent. He'd been half asleep when she'd started massaging him with a warm, wet washcloth. She was so gentle, he'd floated in a drowsy, semiaroused state.
But then she took him into her mouth. In a flash he was fully awake and fully erect. She tortured him till he begged for mercy, and then she straddled him. He didn't know what was more exciting: feeling her hot sheath sliding up and down his penis, or watching her make love to him. He'd adored watching the expressions on her face, the flush on her skin, and the bounce of her breasts. He'd relished hearing the soft moans and hoarse cries. He had never experienced anything so beautifully erotic.
She'd nearly killed him.
"Phil," she whispered again.
He moaned.
"You fell asleep. It's four in the morning."