“You don’t want ice cream,” I groan. “It’s full of sugars and unnecessary fats. You want sex. With me. Here. Now.”

Max gives me a wicked grin and paints cold, sticky circles around my br**sts and over my ni**les.

“Ahhh.” I arch my back and my ni**les tighten into rock-hard peaks. Max leans over and draws one into his mouth, licking and sucking until I am writhing on the desk.

“Stop. Stop. Stop. Please. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He stops his incessant licking and glances up at me. “Do you need to use your safe word?”

I narrow my eyes at the hint of challenge in his voice. If he can hold out, so can I. “No. I’m fine. Just practicing for later.”

He sucks. I wiggle. He bites. I writhe.

“Hmmm.” Max finishes his ice cream with a final lick. “I can’t enjoy my ice cream when my dish is squirming underneath me.”

“I’ll be still. I promise.”

He gives me a cheeky grin. “Yes, you will.” He uncoils more rope and dangles it above me, and then his smile fades. “Are you okay with this, baby? I went too fast with you before. I don’t want to—”

“If you don’t tie me up right now, I’m going to take care of things myself,” I snap. Seriously? What does a girl have to do around here to get a little loving?

Ten minutes later, I lie trussed on the desk like a Thanksgiving turkey. Soft ropes around my thighs, ankles, and waist are tied to hidden D-rings on the desk, which hold my legs up and open. Where does a person get a desk with D-rings embedded all over it? How many women has he trussed in his office while pretending to do the club accounts? Most importantly, when do I get my stuffing? I could ask, but I don’t want to know if the answer isn’t NOW. I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t bear to even imagine how I look. The position is definitely not forgiving of my love of desserts.

“You don’t actually have to do this,” I whine. “I want sex. Right now. You don’t have to work for it.”

Max chuckles and sits down in his big leather chair. “I can control you better this way. I can give you more pleasure than you ever thought possible.”

“Modest, aren’t we?”

He pulls his chair right up to the desk. “Do you know how hot you look? You have such a pretty pu**y.” He slicks a finger through my folds and spreads my wetness along my inner thigh. “Your body is on board. Time to free your mind.”

My eyes slit open just as he dips his finger in the ice cream. He paints a cold, sticky line down my throat, around each breast, and over my abdomen. A shiver races down my spine as the ice cream melts and trickles over my skin like the soft brush of feathers.

Max tips the ice cream container and pours creamy liquid into my belly button and down over my mound. Cool, little rivers trickle through my folds with soft, gentle, sensual tickles.

“This position is particularly good for eating ice cream.” Max peppers little kisses along the insides of my thighs. “Especially when there is nothing in the way.”

“You’re not—”

Max bends down and licks the ice cream from my throat. His tongue laves its way around my br**sts, pausing only to suckle my ni**les, before continuing its featherlight descent down my body. His soft lips brush over my abdomen and then press against my mound. Anticipation ratchets through me.

“My favorite part is coming next,” he whispers. “Be very still.”

As if a trussed turkey can move.

He blows a warm breath over my mound and then his five o’clock shadow scrapes over my now ultrasensitive spot. I gasp and rock my hips against him.

Max chuckles. “If you’re going to react like that before I even get where I want to go, I’ll have to restrain you further.”

More restraint? My heart won’t be able to handle it. “This is good,” I pant. “I’ll be still.”

He studies me and his eyes twinkle. “No you won’t.” He bends down and strokes his tongue through my folds and up over my throbbing bundle of nerves in one long, wet, sensuous sticky lick.

I shriek. My hips jerk but are held fast by the restraints. Bolts of white lightning shoot through my veins.

“Did you like that, baby?” He settles himself between my legs and brushes tiny kisses over my sex. I moan and pull myself closer to his tormenting tongue with my heels.

“Behave,” he whispers. His breath is hot and moist, and I whimper my need.

Max groans. “You know I can’t resist when you make those sounds.”

I giggle and whimper again.

“You do like to live dangerously,” Max rasps. His tongue slides over my folds and circles my sensitive nub. Before I can jerk up, he grabs my hips and holds me down, his palms pressing against my hip bones and his fingers brushing lightly over my abdomen. “You are mine to pleasure now.”

“Yours,” I breathe. My body melts under the gentle ministrations of his tongue.

He slides a finger deep inside my entrance. All coherent thought flees from my brain. He teases and torments, his tongue circling my sweet spot with lazy little licks, but never on the one place I want him to go.

I want to touch him. I tug on the restraints holding my wrists, but I can’t get free. Blood roars through my ears. My heart thunders in my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a breath through frozen lungs as darkness claws at my brain.

“You had your chance, Makayla. I’m coming for you now.”