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Her thighs trembled, and he pressed those long, delicious legs wider so he could add his hand to his torture. He sat back, sliding his fingers over her. His lids lowered, a spear of lust going down his spine at how wet she was. Her hair was plastered to her face, water dripping down her skin. A mixture of sweat and storm. He could just make out the deepening flush on her cheeks and chest. Those pretty breasts rose and fell with harsh pants. She stared down at him beneath heavy lids, eyes both lust-drunk and loathing. Because he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

Rafe slipped two fingers inside. Her mouth dropped open on a moan—one the squall stole from him. He lazily glided them in and out, every slow thrust pulsing through his cock. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. Then he’d really give her what she wanted. But right now… Right now, he was going to give her so slowly it made her hate him.

He leaned back in, nuzzled into her, which had her hips almost lifting off the rail. He groaned, and her body quaked. Then he went back to tasting her, savoring her with languid strokes that were nothing but a tease. She tried to squirm closer, tried to thrust against his face, but he tightened his grip on her hip and held her still. Every time her core fluttered around his fingers, he lessened the pressure. Slowed his licks to just the faintest trace of his tongue. She seared him with her heat. But he refused to let her come.

And then hands landed on his head, and she shoved him into her, her heel kicking his back. He laughed in surprise, but he supposed he had tortured her enough. He buried his head between her thighs and devoured her.

Her moans rumbled through him, in beautiful harmony with the thunder. He curled his fingers, massaging deep inside while he sucked and licked over her desperate flesh. She held on tight and rode him, rocking so that he gave her the exact friction she needed. Taking the reins. She could ride him any way she wanted.

His cock throbbed, and his thighs tensed as he tried to hold back from losing himself prematurely. She was so delicious, so wanton, so unabashed in her pleasure. It was almost too much for him to handle. Then she clamped down around his fingers, fingernails scoring his scalp as her body shook violently. Her cries carried on the wind, swirling around him, engulfing him.

Rafe squeezed her hip, hand digging in as his muscles went whipcord tight, bracing himself from the overpowering lust that was doing its bloody damnedest to win out. Fuck. He couldn’t wait any longer.

He shot upright, shoving his trousers and smalls down and slammed into her. Her back bowed, eyes falling shut as her face contorted in bliss. She bucked, body seeking every last bit of pleasure. She fluttered around his cock, and he gritted his teeth. He held still, just let her pulse and squeeze him. Fuck, she was perfection. She was agony.

She finally went lax against the corner support of the gazebo. She cracked her eyes open, lids barely able to open. He ran a hand up and down her side and leaned in to kiss her. Soothing her. Attempting to soothe his rampant lust. He didn’t want this to end. He was a little afraid of what he meant by that.

Her lips moved languidly against his. He gave her time, let her come down, come back to him. He barely moved inside her, just a small grind of his hips. He wanted to build her back up to needy again. And he knew that’d take patience.

Her nails scraped over his abs and up his chest. She pinched his nipple, and his eyes went wide, a zing of lust spiraling through his ballocks. A gleam entered her eyes. He instantly knew he was in trouble. She did it again, and he bucked. Bloody fucking hell. It was like a shock to his system, like the lightning flashing in the distance had landed straight on him.

She drew her hands up to the top of his chest, dug her nails into his chest, then dragged them down. His head fell back, a groan tearing from him.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

He barely prevented himself from driving into her; the need to thrust was so strong it was nearly impossible to resist. But she wasn’t ready yet. She needed to be ready. He wasn’t coming without her.

Her arms lifted, settling around his neck, her bound wrists at his nape. “You like a bit of pain, Your Grace?” Her words were slurred, drunk from the pleasure he’d given her.

And those words sank straight into his bloodstream, setting it on fire. He snagged her bottom lip with his teeth and tugged, then backed away. His hand snuck between them and drifted through her curls.

“It’s not the pain.”

She cocked her head, and it lolled against the wood beam behind her.

He massaged gently, and she sucked in a breath. “It’s the sentiment behind why you’re doing it.” He picked up his pace, and her gaze sharpened as that fire of lust built again. He leaned in. “The way you turn feral for me,” he said, dragging his lips over hers with every word.

They watched each other, their bodies subtly rocking together.

She dug her fingernails into his nape.

His eyes rolled back. “Claws.”

She leaned forward, not breaking eye contact until she dipped her head to his shoulder. Her lips gazed over his shoulder.

“Teeth.”

She latched onto him. Pain soared through him, snapping him straight. Bliss pooled in his groin, and he couldn’t hold back a thrust.

Rafe circled his fingers faster. He was seconds from losing control. Her moan vibrated against his skin, and she gyrated shamelessly against his hand.

“Need you,” she whimpered against the shell of his ear.

His pulse stuttered. Stopped. Need you.

“Fuck me, Duke.”

Right. She needed his cock. He gave himself a mental shake. He palmed her arse with both hands and slowly drew all the way out to the tip, then slammed home.