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completely. What she wanted to do was scream, fight him with everything she had just to get away from him and what he was doing to her. He seemed determined to take her choice away from her. Her body and mind were getting lost beneath that intent gaze and sexy firm mouth, both of which gave her imagination a thousand ideas, just watching them as he studied her.
    “I knew this would be difficult.” His gaze never left the quivering slopes of her breasts, the upward tilt of her rib cage. “And I prepared for it. You say you’ll fuck me because I’ve turned you on, but it could be me or any other guy to scratch your itch. Is that right?”
    “Are you having a hearing problem?” she retorted. “That about sums it up.”
    “Then I guess I’ll have to back you down and prove you wrong.” He bent close to her. “You want me with a hunger so bad you’ll tear my flesh off my bones to crawl inside me. I know it, have known it for months, and so have you.”
    “You—”
    “Do you want me to hurt you, Savannah? Is that preferable to me being gentle, tender with you? Cherishing you? You won’t make me rush this. And one other thing.” She felt like a desperately cornered mouse staring into a hawk’s eyes. “I won’t let you out-negotiate me. There is no draw. Tonight you’ll surrender to me completely and give me everything I ask for. And I’ll make you glad you did.”
    “You wish,” she said, more faintly than she’d intended. A light smile touched his mouth, but something else was in his eyes, more frightening than hard purpose. He cupped her face in both hands. “You can fight me, scratch at me with your nails or that biting sarcasm of yours, but I won’t hurt you, Savannah. Except in ways that will bring you pleasure. And I’m not ever going to let anything else hurt you again. You’ve already had your quota of pain for one lifetime.”
    “No.”
    “Yes. And it’s time for you to realize that.” His hand reached under her, one hand coming around her back to hold her up as he smoothly unbuttoned the top button of the skirt, lowered the zipper, his fingers sliding down the satin-covered crease of her buttocks as if they had every right to be there.
    She did want to have sex with him, so why not just help him along, get it over with? Why stay rigid under his touch now?
    Because he wanted more than that, and he wasn’t asking. He was taking, stripping off more than her clothes, and it frightened her in a way the physical discrepancies in their strengths did not. She understood everything about how this moment had come about, had enough of a history with him to know tonight wasn’t about rape. He wouldn’t force her if her body said no, but he had to realize, when his hand slid lower, smoothed over her pussy and found the crotch of her panties wet to the touch through the satin, that her body was screaming for him.
    To hell with it. As he pulled her slightly forward to get the skirt down past her hips, her feet touched the floor. She reared up, stomped on his instep with the spike, managing to land a blow in between the side opening of the expensive shoe and the thin black dress sock, a poor protection.
    He swore, flipped her and plastered his hand against the center of her back, used his weight to bear her back down onto the table. Holding her there that way while she thrashed uselessly, he bent, pulled off first one shoe and then the other, tossed them across the room. He stripped her skirt off, sliding it down over her kicking feet. Then, with a violence that dropped her stomach to her knees, he tore the remains of her blouse from her, leaving her in stockings and panties only. He stripped the bra down her arms, but instead of taking it off, he used the garment to tie her wrists behind her back.
    “Kensington, what are you doing?”
    “Something I’ve been planning to do for a while. A great while, so that I planned it out to the last minute piece. I’ve heard you admire my attention to