The Darker Side of Pleasure by Eden Bradley

against him, taking him all in. It hurt. It felt good.
    She pulled against her restraints, but they held her tightly in the safety of the rope’s embrace. And all the time Cam was fucking her, fucking her, until she thought she was going to come apart. And when she came, it was an explosion that ripped through her, singeing her sex, her entire body, with the heat of it.
    And then Cam was coming, too. His body went rigid all over. He yelled her name. And went limp against her.

 
     
    CHAPTER FOUR

    S UNDAY MORNING . S UNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the tall windows, casting a warm golden gleam across the hardwood floors. Jillian could smell the rich, acrid scent of coffee drifting up from downstairs.
    She stretched out on the big bed, wishing Cam were still there with her. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised to see it was almost eleven. She never slept this late. She supposed the fact that Cam had kept her in bed all weekend might have something to do with it.
    Her sex was raw and aching, her arms and legs a bit stiff. Her ass was sore as hell. But she’d never felt better in her life. Well-used. Well-loved.
    Why was it that Cam spanking her, hurting her, made her feel his love for her in a way she never had before? Why did it help her to comprehend the depth of her own feelings for him? She didn’t understand it.
    “Morning, sleepyhead.”
    She smiled as her incredibly sexy husband came into the room with a pair of coffee mugs clenched in one big fist. He was wearing only a pair of striped pajama bottoms and a half-cocked smile. Her eyes roved over his tight, defined abs, his broad shoulders, the tattoo circling the bulge of his biceps. God, he was something. She never tired of looking at him. Well, except for that year of numbness she was just coming out of. He sat on the bed and handed her a cup: plenty of cream and sugar, exactly the way she liked it.
    “Just in time,” she told him. “I was beginning to miss you.”
    He leaned over and brushed a coffee-scented kiss across her lips. Then he sat back and grinned. “I’ve created a monster.”
    “Yes, you have.”
    “My little nymphomaniac is going to have to wait.”
    “Have I worn you out already?”
    “Never. But I got a call from Tom this morning. I have to fly to Chicago to oversee a job there.”
    “There’s no one else who can go?”
    “Sorry, honey, but I headed up this project. It has to be me.”
    Jillian sighed. She’d counted on having the rest of the weekend. “How soon do you have to leave?”
    “I just booked a three o’clock flight.”
    “You already took a shower,” she stated, taking in his wet hair, the fresh, soapy scent of him.
    “Yes, but I still have to pack.”
    “I’ll help you. We can have you out the door in half an hour.”
    “I don’t need to leave for an hour.”
    She set her coffee down on the nightstand, took his and did the same. “Then hurry up and come here.”
    Cam grinned. “Getting a little bossy, my girl?”
    But he leaned over and drew the sheet from her body, kissed the tip of one breast, then sucked her nipple into his mouth. She arched against him. The heat of his wet, sucking mouth shot straight to her sex.
    “I learned it from you.”
    He chuckled against her skin, dipped his head lower, trailing hot, wet kisses down her stomach. Spreading her thighs with his strong hands, he moved lower still. He gave her clit one long, slow lick, bringing it to life. “I guess I’m not in that much of a hurry.”
     

     
    Jillian balanced the box of sushi on one arm and knocked on the door of Briana’s condo with the other. She heard scuffling from inside, then Briana called out.
    “Come in! It’s open!”
    She swung the door open and was greeted by Briana’s cat, Van Gogh, an enormous long-haired tabby with most of one ear missing. He must have smelled the sushi, Jillian thought, grinning down at the old tom.
    Briana sat on the overstuffed dark red velvet couch with her bad leg on a pillow. “You went by