Then he was erupting. Swearing. His head thrown back. His throat as vulnerable as hers. She could barely keep up with the rocketing stream jetting down her throat. It was perfection. But her sex clenched and wept and needed until she wanted to cry. Even taking him into her body, swallowing him down, bringing him practically to his knees, didn’t ease the burning. If anything, it only made it worse.

He withdrew slowly from her mouth and she licked her lips, her gaze clinging to his, silently begging for more. For anything. For his touch. His kiss. His everything. He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers, his hand going to the back of her head, to the ropes. One handed, he released her hair so she could straighten her head. The action sent more vibrations singing against her sensitive skin.

She cried out and he caught at the rope around the post, releasing first one and then the other. He caught her up, her legs still spread wide, still in the crab position, her knees up and tied to her shins. That left her sex completely exposed and open to him. He set her on the bed, one hand went to her belly and he pushed her back. Her hands were under her shoulders, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was his mouth on her.

He didn’t wait. There was no pause. No warning. His tongue stabbed into her, fingers spreading her wide, and then he was devouring her. She fell over the edge, screaming, her body throwing her mind into chaos, into somewhere she’d never been. He didn’t stop as her orgasm rushed over her like a freight train. His tongue was wild, licking, slashing, fluttering against her clit, following his fingers as he plunged two into her, pushing through tight folds to find her most sensitive spot. She exploded again, fragmenting, thrown deeper into a world of pure feeling, so deep she feared she might never return.

She was helpless under his onslaught, that wicked tongue and sinful fingers extracting more and more cream. The moment one orgasm stopped, the next began to build. Each one seemed stronger than the last. Then he was once again over top of her, his cock slamming deep without preamble. She was hot and slick and screaming as he drove into her because nothing had ever felt that good.

He took her hard and fast, driving into her, leveraging with his arms on the bed while his hips surged into her over and over. Streaks of fire raced through her body from toes to breasts and radiated to her arms and legs. Every hard thrust sent her body skittering on the mattress, pushing her deeper so that the ropes vibrated and sang, flicking at her skin, taking tiny, heated bites, so it felt like Ricco was touching, kissing and nipping at her everywhere.

The need coiled tighter and tighter. Built higher and higher. Her head thrashed from side to side. He had to stop – he could never stop. It was terrifying. Beautiful. Brutal. Perfect. His cock swelled, pushing at the tender tissue, triggering the gathering explosion. She came apart. Completely and utterly apart. So many pieces. So good. So bad. So everything. She heard her keening wail, the only sound that could possibly emerge when she’d fractured into a million pieces and all were floating somewhere in subspace.

She felt the hot jet of his release filling her, triggering another orgasm so her body rippled and the ropes vibrated and sang while he lay over her, fighting for air. He brushed kisses into her belly button and over the underside of her breasts. He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes still dark with the intensity of their wild joining. “I should have been a little more gentle.”

Mariko’s head was still spinning. Euphoria was difficult to come down from. “I didn’t want gentle. I wanted perfection and I got it.”

He kissed her and then stood up, looking very male and very satisfied. Instead of beginning to untie her, he caught up the camera again. She touched her tongue to her lip. “What are you doing?”

“If I can get my hands to stop shaking, I’m going to take a picture of you. Dio, you’re beautiful. I’m getting hard just looking at you.” He snapped several more pictures from various angles and then put the camera aside.

She didn’t have to ask – he was already releasing ropes and he was fast at it. The moment he had her untied, he began massaging her arms to ensure her circulation was in no way impaired. He shredded the red lace, tossing it aside so he could massage the rope marks on her skin. “You’ll wear these for a few days,” he said.

“I hope they last a long time.” She was truthful.

She couldn’t keep her hands off him. She wanted to touch him everywhere and she did, stroking, caressing, kissing, biting, licking at him. Her fingernails moved over his back and down to his buttocks.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We have until two o’clock and I’m making every single second count.”

“I’m human, Mariko. Coming twice is…”

She pushed him to his back. “Then I get to play.”

He laughed softly as she kissed his throat and down his chest to his nipples where her tongue flicked at him. “Play all you want.” His hands covered her bare buttocks, fingers digging deep in a massage.

She kissed her way down to his cock, already semihard. Yeah. She was going to get her way.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

R

icco detested that his woman had insisted she go along. He was proud of Mariko for her decision and knew she would never do less, but he was determined to find out where the kidnappers were holding Ryuu. His methods might not meet with her approval.

She was exhausted as well. Coming out of the ropes was usually a slow process, but they’d had wild sex several times. More than he’d ever thought possible, before both had fallen asleep. She had been draped over his body when he woke, her breasts against his ribs, her arm around his waist. He’d fallen asleep on his back and stayed that way, something very unusual for him, but he loved his woman lying over top of him. He’d slept soundly, again something very unusual.

Nao’s condo was on the top floor. There were security cameras everywhere. Shadow riders were required to hear lies, disrupt electricity and be able to be pulled apart and put back together. Most could compel the truth as well. That was a specialty of Ricco’s and he’d damn well get the truth out of Nao.

Stefano held up his hand at the entrance to the tube and indicated a camera pointed right at them. It wouldn’t be able to capture their images, hidden inside the tube as they were, but the moment they stepped out, it would record them. He raised his hand, a gesture that wasn’t strictly necessary, but one all of them made. It was a human gesture. The disruption really began in their brains and had nothing to do with hands. Stefano concentrated, and the dim lights flickered. The camera smoked and then abruptly went dead. He looked cautiously around, seeking any other devices that might be a problem before he stepped out into the hallway and beckoned to Ricco, Taviano and Mariko.

Taviano moved ahead of Stefano. He was extremely powerful at disrupting electrical equipment. He would ensure no cameras worked as they made their way through the condo to Nao’s private quarters. The walls were decorated with expensive paintings, most depicting ancient tortures of men in various stages of undress with ropes done in intricate knots. Ricco recognized the ancient art of hojojutsu. He paused to look at the prints. Nao liked ancient weapons and ancient tortures.