After breakfast, it took us another hour to get into Paris and to our hotel. I was used to a lot of travel by now, but after the expansive, cushy seats of Hunter's truck, the stiff-back chair of the train and the ripped cushions of the cab left something to be desired. The man at the front desk was courteous and faintly judging, so on point I wondered if he was planted to entertain American tourists.

Or then again, maybe he really did feel that way.

Either way, the room itself was beautiful, larger than I'd been given to expect from the travel guidebooks. A small wall divided the sitting area from the bedroom, which left a spacious area across where the sunlight streamed through filmy curtains. I took a hot shower, admiring the marble floor and overlarge tub in the bathroom.

Now I knew why Hunter had picked this room.

I had a new set of lacy bra and panties to go on under my fresh clothes. For that bit of planning, I deserved a round of applause. A lot of my lingerie would get torn to shreds during our two-week stay here.

At least, I sure hoped so.

When I emerged from the bedroom, Hunter was reclined on the bed. He tossed his phone aside. "Come closer."

I planned to jump him, just jump directly on top of him and tussle for control. I loved it when he won, so I gave him every opportunity. But before I could make it to the bed, he said, "Now stop. That's perfect."

"Perfect for what?"

"For you to show me those lacy panties you had on." When I blushed he added, "You're lucky I didn't rip them off you right there on the plane. Shove them in your mouth and make you taste our own come."

God. I clenched my thighs together, trying to ease the ache that started every time he talked like that. His grin was pure devilry, smug and tempting.

Two could play at this game.

"I don't know what you mean," I said, feigning innocence. "I've already changed."

"Then show me what you're wearing now," he growled.

I pulled my jeans and top off as slowly as I could without being silly. There was only so seductive rumpled travel clothes could get. But my silk bra with its little pink flowers-oh, those would do nicely. He sucked in a breath when he saw it. And my panties. Not only did they match, but the panel was still damp from his come. It leaked out of me for hours after he came inside me, a musky reminder of what we'd done. He came a lot, copiously.

And often too.

"Do you mean these panties?" I asked.

I'd found that dirty talk didn't need to be particularly clever to turn Hunter on. In fact, simple worked best. Please. Do it like that. And my coup de grace had been a quiet No, no, I can't take any more during a particularly rough scene that had made him come for what felt like hours.

Hunter grunted something like assent. "Get over here."

His hand absently rubbed himself through his jeans, a sign of dwindling patience. Soon enough he'd grab me, fling me to the floor, and have his dirty way with me. An excellent recipe for orgasms if I ever heard one. But this time around, I had a different idea.

My panties slipped over my hips and down to the floor. I unclasped my bra and held it against my chest for a moment before letting it fall. But instead of leaving the lacy fabric on the Aubusson rug, I hooked it with my forefinger.

When he reached for me, I stayed his hand. His eyebrows shot up. I could see the questions behind his brown eyes. Was it a game? Did I want him to overpower me?

I shook my head slightly. Not this time.

With a quick movement, I ripped the panties down their seam, lace tearing with a quiet snip. He and I both stared at the scrap of fabric in shock. Well, I'd imagined him tearing through my panties, not me, but this would be better. Just this once.

"Shall I?" I asked softly.

His eyes blazed. He looked...furious. But his breath quickened and his cock bulged as thick as ever through the jeans. Oh, he would like this. Just this once, and maybe a few more times, just to be sure.

I straddled his thighs and tied the panties over his mouth. Reaching around, I fastened the bra into a kind of makeshift handcuffs. The same way he'd tied me up last night. The whole time, I was acutely aware of the raw power between my legs and within my embrace. I only tied him up because he let me.

But then again, that was why he tied me up too.

"Good?" I asked.

His eyes were flames of frustration, of desire. He wanted to attack me but the pink-flower bonds and my wish to do this held him bound. "Poor man," I whispered, trailing a finger down his temple. It must be hard for him to give in, even for a little while.

I would have to give him a reward.

The ridge in his jeans tempted me. I wanted to suck on the spongy head, to flutter my tongue at the tip, to drive him crazy when he couldn't take control, couldn't thrust.

Although maybe he still would. His hips were already moving, without any stimulation to his cock. He was fucking the air, overexcited from just seeing me naked and getting tied up.

He was so damned responsive.

Sucking him off would hardly return the favor from last night. I'd already done that. A good time for all, but I knew what he wanted. What he needed. Gently, carefully, I helped him lie flat on the bed. It didn't look easy. He had to lie on his hands, which were still bound behind him. However, the discomfort was part of the allure. I wanted everything for him. Even pain.

And besides, he looked so good spread out, broad chest pressed up into the air, flat abs trailing into his jeans. He looked like one of the Greek statues in the guidebook for the Louvre. We'd get to see the artwork soon, but this was even better-marble turned man.

I shoved the panty-gag aside and pressed my fingers into his mouth. "Suck."

He bit me. Of course he did. I had to pinch his side until he let go. We both knew he could have overpowered me at any moment. With his body, with his teeth. But he didn't, and that was a greater gift than a shuddering forbidden orgasm. Greater even than a honeymoon in France.

I straddled his face and knelt over him. "Get to work. And no biting or you won't like what happens next."

He licked me eagerly, belying the fierce defiance in his eyes. But no, I read that wrong. It was the game we played that made it look like reluctance. As his eyes fell shut, I saw only triumph and bliss. He'd asked to do this so many times. And each one, I had refused. He could make me, but it wasn't the same. Wasn't the same at all as me tying him down and fucking him with my face.

Reaching down, I tugged on his hair, hard enough that he'd feel the sting. "There's a good boy." His eyes snapped open at that, twinkling with warning.

I laughed. "You're going to make me pay for this, aren't you? I can't wait."

We stayed in our hotel room the next two days, ordering ridiculous quantities of room service while he showed me all the ways he could make me suffer. I expected a complaint to make us keep quiet, especially after a few choice times. But I guess everyone knows what to expect from newlyweds, even stuffy bellhops. Even jaded air marshals.

Even rough and tumble truckers from Texas knew what happened on a honeymoon, and Hunter made it hurt so good.

About the Author.

Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, including power play or erotic pain and sometimes dubious consent. There's struggle in the sex. There's pain in the relationships. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

Visit Skye's website for her current booklist: www.skyewarren.com.

Other Books by Skye Warren.

Wanderlust.

Below the Belt.

Dark Erotica Series.

Keep Me Safe Trust in Me.

Hear Me Don't Let Go.

The Beauty Series Beauty Touched the Beast.

Beneath the Beauty Broken Beauty Beauty Becomes You Fem Dom Series.

Sweetest Mistress Dystopia Series.

Leashed Caged.

PLAY WITH ME.

ELIZA GAYLE.

Eva's desperate denial only means one thing...she has a lot to learn.

Eve Blake has been working at Altered Ego, a studio specializing in fetish photography, for three months when a custom order comes in for a plus-sized redhead. Ready for an adventure, she volunteers for the job. Chase, her boss, reluctantly accepts. Maybe pretending to be a sexual slave for Chase's camera will get her one step closer to the two men she thinks can satisfy even her darkest needs.

Chase can't believe he's agreed to this deal. The cardinal rule in any business is not to get involved with your employees and that includes your sexy receptionist. He and his partner Murphy learned that lesson the hard way. Now Chase has a hunch the first time they touch their rope to Eve's creamy flesh, there will be no turning back. They'll have to have her.

"Eliza Gayle wove an incredible tale of surrender and trust. The three main characters, Eve, Chase, and Murphy, are hot, sexy, and endearing."

-Siren Book Reviews.

Chapter One.

Becoming a Peeping Tom had not been part of Eve Blake's job description when she took the receptionist position at Altered Ego. Yet that's exactly what she'd become. She'd thought working for a fetish photographer might help her get out of the shell she'd been hiding in, but this was ridiculous.

Eve stood in the dressing room, staring at the thin white curtain that hid the main photo studio from her view. Her nipples tightened just thinking about what she'd see. When today's model had arrived, she'd confirmed on the schedule that Chase and Murphy had booked Jennifer for one of the hard-core assignments. All three had disappeared into the studio hours ago, and the urge to witness what happened behind the curtain drove her back here.

Unfortunately, this watching had become a habit.

The studio, depending on the props and lighting Chase used, could be transformed from a lush den of seduction to a full-on BDSM dungeon. Today would be the dungeon.

In the interest of full disclosure, Chase had been up-front with her from the beginning. He shot photos of any and all types of sensual fantasies, from what some labeled erotic art, all the way to what many classified as porn. She'd seen some of those pictures, and on one level they were explicit beyond belief, and on another the most tantalizing sexuality she'd laid eyes on. Sometimes when she studied them, she'd grow jealous of the models and long to be in their position. Especially the photos that included Murphy.

Eve shuddered at the fresh wave of arousal flooding her sex. Everything about this place had turned her into a needy, "desperate to be fucked" woman. No, that wasn't quite right. It was more than simply being fucked. Sex was easy, and if all she wanted was to have some guy shove his dick in her, it would be easy enough. No, what Chase and Murphy did to a woman went far and above plain old sex.

They demanded. They manipulated. And they took whatever they wanted.

What would it be like to be helpless under their control? Sure, both Chase and Murphy were professionals and much of what they did wasn't done for personal pleasure. Yet models begged for more jobs, and it wasn't exactly a secret when Chase or Murphy dated one of the girls.

The knots in Eve's stomach tightened further, and the flesh between her legs ached to be touched. She couldn't take the anticipation another second. She had to see for herself what lay behind the curtain.

She reached up and brushed the flimsy fabric a few inches aside and peered inside the darkened room. With the only wash of light in the large dungeon space spotlighted in the center of the room, Eve's gaze was automatically drawn to the two people in the midst of a scene. Jennifer, the skinny blonde model who'd arrived earlier, had been stripped of clothing except for red thigh-high latex stockings and red shoulder-length latex gloves. The bright color contrasted strongly with her oh-so-pale skin and nearly white hair, striking Eve with the sheer beauty of the woman.

The model's arms were pulled behind her body and tied at the wrists with a matching dyed rope, which was strung through a hook in the ceiling, stretching and suspending her arms behind her. Around her waist and thighs, they'd roped her with a simple harness and attached the rope to another hook in the dungeon wall at the back of the room.

In this position she could move quite a bit from left to right, but moving forward would be impossible. Jennifer's large breasts were bare and her shaved pussy completely visible as she stood with her legs spread wide.

Chase had explained their specialty in bondage, and every time she watched them tie a woman, it damned near drove her insane. Eve wanted to know everything. Did the rough rope abrading the skin hurt? Or was it a sensation that aroused a woman? Did the knowledge of being tied and helpless fuck with your mind? Or did knowing that Chase and Murphy had complete control to do whatever they wanted excite them? She'd bet her entire paycheck every model they touched wanted them.

A few feet in front of the model, Murphy stood wearing only black leather pants and combat boots. With his back to Eve, she got a good look at the tattoos that covered his skin. The tribal markings were inked in solid black in a series of swinging arcs and powerful curves. She had no idea of their meanings, if there were any, but they struck her as powerful and dominating. Especially when he moved.

Fascinated by the soft light on his tanned skin, she barely noticed him move forward. The room they were in had been soundproofed, so unless Jennifer started really screaming, Eve would never hear a sound they made. It was easy to see why Chase used Murphy for his male model. With his midnight black hair and dark eyes that seemed to see clear through to a person's soul, there wasn't a woman alive who didn't respond to the aura of power that surrounded him. The thick muscles that flexed and bunched in every pose didn't hurt either.

A few minutes later Murphy moved from in front of Jennifer, and Chase and his camera took up his place. Chase's tousled brown hair stood on end, shooting in every direction. She easily pictured him pushing his hands through it in between shots, while he waited impatiently for Murphy to set up the next scene. His hard-to-read emerald eyes would be focused through the lens, and even though she couldn't see them, she imagined the heavily lashed, hooded gaze staring at her with lascivious intent. Never before meeting Chase had she really understood the phrase "bedroom eyes."

She'd admired the erotic portraits hung around the studio and reception area, and she'd scoured Chase's Web site, studying each and every picture. The sensuality he captured through a camera lens took her breath away every time until she'd begun to fantasize herself as one of his models.

Eve caught the flash of silver out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to investigate. Murphy had apparently attached huge clover clamps to Jennifer's breasts, and a heavy chain dangled between them. The heat and arousal she spied in the model's eyes could not be faked. She clearly enjoyed the pain of having her nipples clamped.

Curious, Eve unbuttoned her own blouse and pushed her bra out of the way, baring her sensitive tips to the cool air of the dressing room. Already tight from arousal, they went positively rock hard when she touched them. But it was the pain of a clamp she wanted to feel. So with two fingers of each hand she pinched tight, first absorbing the pressure and then letting it edge into a stronger bite. When she thought she'd hit the limit of what she could take, she squeezed harder until she took her own breath away.

Keeping the pressure steady, she watched Chase move around Jennifer, taking a series of pictures. She moved and swayed each time he spoke to her, and Eve imagined him barking out directions. He tended to get lost in his work sometimes and had no idea the effect his demanding tone had on a woman. Or maybe he did.

Eve had sat at her desk many times, taking orders from Chase and praying she wouldn't embarrass herself by having an orgasm from his voice alone. She shook her head at her ridiculous thoughts. Her reactions to him made her crazy. How could anyone sane be so influenced by a little thing like a voice? Her boss would probably be appalled if he ever clued in to her thoughts.

Through the glass she saw Murphy move forward again, this time standing in a position that gave her a clear view to the model and him. He reached for the dangling chain and the model's mouth formed a little O. Jennifer's eyes widened as Eve imagined Murphy told her what he was about to do. He tugged on the chain and she scooted forward scant inches before the ropes that held her stopped her movement.