He laid her on the bed with reverent care, her body still trembling from the intensity of her release. The cool Egyptian cotton felt like silk against her overheated skin as she sank into the mattress, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Reece began to undress.

His movements were deliberate, almost ritualistic, as he shed his dinner clothes piece by piece. The crisp white shirt fell to the floor, revealing the broad expanse of his chest that she longed to touch. His belt followed with a soft thud, then his slacks, until he stood before her in nothing but his boxers, the evidence of his arousal straining against the thin fabric.

"You're still overdressed," Angel whispered, her voice still hoarse from crying out.

"Am I?" he asked with a predatory smile, hooking his thumbs in the waistband. "Then perhaps you should remedy that."

She pushed herself up on trembling elbows, reaching for him with shaking hands. Her fingers traced the waistband of his boxers, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch.

"Please," she breathed, tugging at the fabric. "I need to see all of you."

Reece caught her wrists gently, his eyes dark with desire. "Patience," he murmured, though his own breathing had grown ragged. "Lie back."

Angel sank back into the pillows, her pulse quickening as he released her wrists. The anklet caught the moonlight streaming through the open terrace doors, a glittering reminder of her surrender. Reece's gaze traveled slowly down her naked form, lingering on the flush that painted her skin from throat to thighs.

"So beautiful when you're wrecked for me," he murmured, finally pushing his boxers down his hips. Angel's breath caught at the sight of him, fully aroused, magnificent in the silver light. He moved to the nightstand, retrieving something from the drawer.

"What—" she began, but her words died as he turned back with silk rope in his hands.

"Your reward," he said, voice like dark honey. "For being so perfectly obedient tonight." The rope whispered through his fingers as he approached the bed. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Sir," she breathed without hesitation, though her pulse hammered wildly as he knelt beside her on the bed. The silk rope felt cool and smooth as he lifted her right arm above her head, winding the cord around her wrist with practiced precision.

"Too tight?" he asked, testing the bond with gentle fingers.

"No, Sir. Perfect."

He secured her left wrist to match, then trailed the remaining length down to her ankles. Angel's breathing grew shallow as he bound her legs, spreading them wide and tying them to the bedposts. The position left her completely exposed, utterly vulnerable beneath his hungry gaze.

"Exquisite," he murmured, running his palms up her inner thighs. "My angel, bound and waiting."

She tested the bonds instinctively, silk tightening against her skin. The restriction only heightened her arousal, intensifying the ache between her thighs. There was nowhere to hide, no way to close herself off from his gaze or his touch. She was entirely his, spread open like an offering.

"Tell me what you're feeling," Reece commanded, his voice a low rumble as he knelt between her bound legs.

"Exposed," she whispered, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Vulnerable. Yours."

His smile was slow and possessive. "Yes. Mine." His hands glided up her calves, over her knees, to her trembling thighs. "And do you know what I'm going to do with what's mine?"

Angel shook her head, unable to form words as his thumbs traced maddening circles just shy of where she needed him most.

"I'm going to worship every inch of you," he promised, lowering his mouth to the inside of her knee. His lips brushed her skin with feather-light precision, working their way up her inner thigh with agonizing slowness. Each kiss was a brand, each touch a promise of what was to come. Angel strained against her bonds, desperate to guide him where she needed him most.

"Be still," he commanded, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. "Or I'll stop entirely."

She forced her body to relax, surrendering to his pace. The restraints weren't just physical—they were a challenge to her control, forcing her to accept pleasure on his terms alone.

"Good girl," he murmured against her skin. His stubble scraped deliciously along her inner thigh as he moved higher, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. When he reached the crease where thigh met hip, he paused, looking up at her with dark eyes that reflected the moonlight streaming through the windows. His gaze held such intensity—such hunger, that Angel felt her breath catch in her throat.

"You're dripping for me," he observed, his voice thick with desire. "Even after everything at dinner."

"Only for you, Sir," she whispered, fighting the urge to arch toward his mouth.

He smiled, a predatory curl of lips that made her pulse quicken. "Always so responsive." His thumb traced her center with deliberate pressure, gathering her wetness. "Always so ready."

Angel whimpered as he withdrew his touch, watching with wide eyes as he brought his glistening thumb to his mouth and tasted her. The sight was so erotic she felt herself grow wetter still, her body responding to his visual claim.

"Delicious," he murmured. "But I want more."

Without warning, he lowered his head and sealed his mouth over her center. Angel's cry echoed through the villa as his tongue found her most sensitive spots with devastating precision. The silk bonds bit into her wrists as she instinctively tried to reach for him, her body arching off the bed despite his earlier command.

"Still," he growled against her slick flesh, the vibration sending shockwaves through her core. His hands gripped her hips, holding her firmly in place as he continued his relentless assault with lips and tongue.

The contrast was maddening—his gentle reverence moments before replaced by raw, primal hunger. He devoured her like a man starved, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick flicks that had her gasping his name. When he sucked her swollen clit between his lips, Angel's vision went white.

"Please," she sobbed, tugging desperately at her restraints. "Sir, I'm so close—"

"Not yet," he commanded, lifting his head just enough to deny her release. His eyes were black with desire, his mouth glistening with her arousal. "I decide when you come."

Angel collapsed back against the pillows, her chest heaving with frustration and need. Reece rose to his knees between her spread thighs, his erection jutting proudly against his stomach. He ran his palms up her trembling body, from the silk at her ankles to the curve of her waist, finally cupping her breasts with possessive hands.

"You're a masterpiece like this," he murmured, thumbs circling her hardened nipples. "Bound, desperate, mine."

He leaned forward, capturing one peak between his lips. The wet heat of his mouth sent electric currents racing to her core.

Angel's back arched off the bed as he moved to the other breast, his tongue tracing lazy circles around her nipple before drawing it between his teeth. The gentle pressure made her gasp, the sensation shooting straight to her already throbbing center.

"Please," she whispered, the word barely audible even in the quiet room.

Reece lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. "Please, what, Angel? Use your words."

"Please take me," she begged, straining against the silk bonds. "I need to feel you inside me."

"Not yet," he murmured, trailing kisses down the valley between her breasts to her stomach. "I want you desperate."

His hands slid beneath her hips, lifting her slightly as his mouth continued its torturous journey. When he reached the silver anklet, he pressed his lips to the metal, then to the delicate skin around it. The key charm pressed into her skin, a cold reminder of her submission.

"This anklet," he said, voice rough with desire, "marks you as mine." His tongue traced the silver chain, sending shivers up her leg. "Just as these ropes bind you to me tonight."

Angel trembled beneath his touch, her body aching for completion. The cool Caribbean air from the open terrace doors caressed her heated skin, a stark contrast to the fire Reece ignited within her.

"Do you remember our first night together?" he asked, moving back up her body until his face hovered above hers. His weight rested on his forearms, his hardness pressing insistently against her thigh.

"Every moment," she whispered, lost in the dark pools of his eyes.

"You were so shy," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"Trembling when I touched you, blushing when I told you what I wanted to do to you." His lips brushed against her ear, voice dropping to that commanding whisper that made her pulse race. "And now look at you—spread open for me, begging so beautifully."

Angel's breath hitched as he shifted his weight, the head of his arousal nudging against her entrance. "You've come so far," he continued, his free hand tracing the line of her jaw. "From that innocent girl who could barely say my name to this magnificent woman who calls me Sir."

"Reece," she breathed, his name a prayer on her lips.

"That's not what you call me when you're bound to my bed," he corrected, his voice taking on that edge of steel that made her core clench with need.

"Sir," she gasped, tilting her hips.

He smiled at her correction, a dark, satisfied expression that sent heat spiraling through her bound form. "Much better." Without warning, he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion that tore a cry from her throat.

"God, you feel incredible," he groaned, stilling completely as her body adjusted to his size. The silk ropes pulled taut as Angel instinctively tried to wrap her arms around him, desperate to pull him closer. "So tight, so perfect for me."

"Move," she pleaded, her voice breaking with need. "Please, Sir, I need—"

"I know what you need," he cut her off, beginning a slow, deliberate rhythm that had her writhing beneath him. Each thrust was controlled, measured, and designed to drive her to the edge without letting her fall. "But you'll take what I give you."

The moonlight painted their joined bodies in silver, highlighting the sheen of sweat on Reece's shoulders as he moved above her. His pace was torturous—deep, rolling thrusts that hit something primal within her core but never quickened enough to grant release.

"Look at me," he commanded, one hand coming up to cradle her face. "I want to see your eyes when you shatter."

Angel forced her heavy lids open, meeting his intense gaze. The connection was overwhelming—more intimate than the physical joining of their bodies. In his eyes, she saw not just desire but possession, tenderness wrapped in dominance.

"You're mine," he growled, his rhythm finally increasing as his control began to fray. "Say it."

"Yours," she gasped, the word broken by his next thrust. "Always yours, Sir."

His hand slid between their bodies, finding her sensitive bundle of nerves with practiced precision. The dual sensation of his fingers and his relentless thrusts shattered what remained of Angel's composure.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough with his own approaching release. "Now."

The permission unleashed everything she'd been holding back. Angel's climax crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around him as she cried out his name. The silk bonds held her fast as pleasure wracked her form, intensifying every sensation until she thought she might die from the ecstasy.

Reece's rhythm faltered as her walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper. "That's it," he growled through gritted teeth. "Take everything I give you."

His final thrusts grew erratic, desperate, until he buried himself completely and found his own release with a harsh groan that echoed off the villa walls. Angel felt him pulse inside her, his body shuddering with the force of his climax as he collapsed against her, careful to brace his weight on his forearms. For several heartbeats, they remained locked together, their ragged breathing the only sound in the moonlit room.

"Angel," he whispered against her throat, pressing tender kisses to her pulse point. The reverence in his voice was a stark contrast to his earlier dominance; this gentle aftermath was as much a part of their dance as the fierce passion that preceded it.

With careful movements, Reece reached up to untie her wrists, massaging each one as he freed it from its silken prison. His touch was feather-light over the faint red marks, his lips following his fingers to soothe any lingering discomfort. When her arms were free, Angel immediately wrapped them around his shoulders, craving the closeness her bonds had denied her.

"Hold still," he murmured, moving to release her ankles with the same tender care. Angel's legs trembled as circulation returned, muscles cramping from being held in position for so long. Reece's hands worked magic along her calves and thighs, kneading away the stiffness with gentle pressure.

"Better?" he asked, gathering her against his chest as he settled back against the headboard. Angel curled into him, her head finding its natural place in the hollow of his shoulder.

"Perfect," she sighed, tracing lazy patterns across his chest. The aftershocks of her climax still rippled through her, leaving her boneless and sated in his arms. "That was..."

"Intense," he finished, his fingers combing through her disheveled hair. "You were incredible tonight. At dinner, just now—watching you surrender so completely to me."

Angel lifted her head to meet his gaze, finding his eyes soft with admiration beneath the lingering heat. "I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

"You underestimate yourself," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His hand drifted to her ankle, fingers toying with the silver chain and its tiny key charm. "This is more than ornamental, you know."

"Oh?" she questioned, nestling closer as the night breeze swept through the open terrace doors.

"It's a promise." His voice took on that serious edge that made her heart skip. "That I'll always provide what you need—whether it's discipline or tenderness."

Angel traced the line of his jaw, her touch reverent. "And what do you need from me, Sir?"

"Your trust," he answered without hesitation. "Your surrender." His palm slid up her thigh, possessive but gentle.

"Stay here,” he murmured against her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Angel watched as he slipped from the bed, moonlight sculpting the planes of his naked back as he disappeared into the bathroom. She heard water running, then he returned with a warm washcloth and a small bottle.

"Let me take care of you," he said, his voice gentle as he cleaned her with reverent touches. The washcloth felt heavenly against her oversensitive skin.

His movements were tender, almost worshipful, as he attended to her, so different from the commanding presence that had bound her to the bed minutes before. The duality of his nature was what had drawn her to him from the beginning—this capacity to dominate and nurture in equal measure.

When he finished, he set the washcloth aside and uncapped the small bottle. The scent of aloe and lavender filled the air as he poured a dollop into his palm.

"For the rope marks," he explained, warming the lotion between his hands before applying it to her wrists. His fingers worked the soothing balm into her skin with gentle pressure. "I never want to leave marks that linger beyond our pleasure."

Angel watched his face as he concentrated on his task, the furrow of concern between his brows oddly touching. This powerful man, who had reduced her to begging, now fretted over her.