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feelings and needs—he’d been careful to make provisions for her care. She had a safe word, she could tell him she needed time to herself and he would respect that. She could tell him they needed to discuss their situation like adults, and he would engage her as an equal.
    But this conversation was not about that.
    He raised one eyebrow very fractionally. “I shall give you one more chance, my defiant little pet.” He rested his hand on the buckle of his belt. “But I should warn you—I can delay my departure slightly, if necessary. I will not allow your insubordination to go unchecked. Now. Are you sorry for your ill-considered remark?”
    The ache in her pussy sharpened; a groan nearly escaped her lips. She caught it just in time. “No,” she said between gritted teeth. “I’m not sorry.”
    His hand moved so fast she saw only the flash of his cuff links. He seized a hank of hair and pulled her head back savagely, exposing her throat to him, forcing her gaze to the ceiling. Her body went liquid with pain and desire, and the towel fell to the floor.
    Ricardo used his free hand to seize one of her wrists and pin it against the cold tile. He stepped into the small enclosure with her, pushing her into the corner of the stall. He bent his head and kissed her gently from one ear to the other, without letting up the pressure with his hands. The pain searing her scalp and the bone-crushing force pinning her hand were a counterpoint to the soft caress of his tongue and lips and barely grazing teeth, and Chelsea moaned and writhed as her body struggled to sort out the sensations and, failing, demanded more.
    Ricardo continued to kiss her, but when he reached the nape of her neck near her hairline, the kiss turned to a sharp, vicious bite. He kept it up as she moaned and struggled, suckling and biting as voraciously as any mythical vampire, until he finally let go of her and stepped out of the shower in one smooth move.
    Chelsea resisted the urge to slide down into a puddle on the floor, her body vibrating with desire. When Ricardo offered her his hand, she took it and allowed him to help her from the shower. Then he took her by the shoulders and turned her gently toward the mirror.
    â€œLook at yourself,” he murmured. “Look at my marks on you.”
    He lifted her hair out of the way and she saw the purpling bruise behind her ear, the faint impressions of his teeth. She shuddered with excitement, tracing the outline with her fingertip.
    â€œNo one will know it is there, unless you want them to. But you will know. You will always know.”
    He pushed her shoulders, gently at first, then more firmly, shoving her down until she was bent over the sink, her hips up against its cold edge. Her cheek rested on the smooth marble, a sensual contrast to the heat building inside her. Her arms extended on either side of her face, her hands touching the burnished brass fittings.
    â€œBe still, my little putita ,” Ricardo said, resting one hand on her ass lightly, cupping it as though he was testing a melon at the market. Chelsea squirmed against him, longing for his touch between the cleft of her ass, wishing he’d slide his fingers down to her dripping cunt.
    Abruptly he lifted his hand, then brought it down firmly on her ass cheek. It stung more than it hurt, but the blow ignited nerve endings all over her body. With tremendous effort, she went still.
    â€œWait here.”
    He left the room.
    For the first few moments, Chelsea was motionless, her eyes closed, her breathing slightly elevated by her mounting desire. She focused on the lingering sensation of his hand on her ass, the sharp, gorgeous ache of it, and wondered if Ricardo would know if she quietly slipped her fingers down and pleasured herself. Just to bring a little relief. Just to feel the hot dampness with her fingertips.
    She could hear him moving around in the other room, opening a dresser drawer. When he