As always with Leona, Simon was in uncharted waters. He'd never been kissed like this before-by a girl who didn't wait for him to move first and didn't apologize for doing what she liked. The experience was so new and so different, it was exhilarating. All he could think about was sliding his hands up her waist to her breasts, her collarbone, and higher, along her smooth throat-fuck, he thought, tightening his hold on her dress. Fuck.

She nipped his lip hard enough to hurt and smiled up at him through thick, dark lashes, her gray eyes almost black with lust. His racing mind could only register amazement. No one had ever looked at him like this, either: as if she'd already decided to eat him and was taking her time deciding where to start.

Her fingers found the buttons on his duty shirt. His heart pounding, Simon held still and let her undo them, one by one, with painful, exquisite slowness. She tugged the shirt off over his shoulders, dropped it to the floor, and caressed his stomach through his black undershirt, her smile widening. He shivered.

"How about those handcuffs?" Her purring voice was so sexy, it took him a moment to realize what she'd actually said.

"My handcuffs?" His first thought-depressingly-was about the ethical implications of using police equipment during sex. He really was a stick in the mud. His second thought-equally depressing in its own way-was about his ex, Ashley, who'd been really into the whole cop thing. Simon, on the other hand, was not. For him, it was his work, his life.

Then again, if Leona wanted it...

"Hang on," he muttered, undoing his gun belt. Normally he took it off as soon as he was off duty, but he'd been distracted. He pulled the handcuffs free and gave them to Leona to hold. Finally, he slid the belt off, unloaded his gun, and set it all down on her coffee table.

Still holding the cuffs, which looked huge in her delicate hand, Leona led him into her bedroom. All of his adolescent daydreams roared to life, more potent and visceral than ever before. Her bed dominated the room, with its black headboard and scarlet silk sheets.

Leona turned and kissed him again by the door, and he let her lead again, let her-

Click.

"What-?"

Absolutely not. He twisted his wrists. Metal dug into his skin.

"Did you just fucking cuff me?"

She grinned. "The safe word is 'knitting.'"

He fought the cuffs even though he knew for a fact there was no getting out of them without that key on his police belt. "What the hell, Leona?"

"I thought-" Her expression sobered. "If you want me to stop, I will. I'll take the cuffs off right now. Or any time it gets to be too intense, I'll stop. Just use safe word so I know you mean it for real, not as part of the game."

"The game," Simon echoed.

"Just the cuffs. I'm not going to hurt you," she said, with a rueful smile. "Unless you want me to, of course."

Hurt him? What was with this girl? He'd expected her to be adventurous, but he hadn't expected anything like this. When he'd acted out Ashley's cop fantasies with her, he'd called her a bad girl a few times and had pretended to cuff her once, perhaps a bit begrudgingly now that he thought about it. If she'd wanted to actually use his cuffs, she'd never said so.

He'd certainly never let anyone cuff him before.

Knitting, he thought. Knitting. He'd call all this off, go home, and try to forget about this whole day...including Leona Chaisty practically licking her lips at the sight of him in a T-shirt.

And then what? He'd go into work tomorrow to the unsolved bombing case and the O'Shea homicide investigation, and he'd go home tomorrow night to his empty apartment. His life would go on exactly the same, with only whiskey and fresh snow to punctuate the monotony.

"Just the cuffs?" he said.

"Right."

"Okay. All right." He swallowed hard. "What do you want me to do?"

She gave him a measured, appraising look. "Kneel."

With his hands behind his back, he had to go down carefully, one knee at a time. He felt unbearably self-conscious on Leona's immaculate oriental carpet, still in his tactical pants and black undershirt.

"Look at me."

His feelings scattered in a million directions. He dragged his gaze up to hers.

"You think I'm pretty, don't you?" Her voice was full of challenge, and so was her posture: one hand on her slim hip, the other toying with her long hair.

"Yes," he croaked.

"How pretty?" she demanded.

"Beautiful." He flushed. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Other women had never compared to her, didn't have that fierceness she had.

"Then watch."

Yes. God, yes. Being caught in his own cuffs would be worth it, completely worth it, if he got to see her naked.

Gathering her hair over one shoulder, she turned around, treating him to an eye-level view of her ass and her long legs. Her graceful hands moved to the zipper on the back of her violet dress. She drew it down, revealing the back of her bra-black, just like he'd imagined. He couldn't help groaning, his cock swelling.

She glanced back, eyebrows arched, more like a mischievous dark fairy than ever. "You want to see more?"

"Yes."

"You'll have to beg."

"Please." His voice shook. "Please."

She purred. Slowly, she pulled the zipper the rest of the way down, to the top of her matching black underwear. She let the violet dress fall to the floor, puddling around her high heels, and faced him again. Her hair still lay across her shoulder, falling onto one pert breast and twining into the cup of her bra.

"Leona..." He couldn't take his eyes off her. "Uncuff me. I want to touch you."

Stepping out of her dress, she sashayed toward him in her skimpy panties. "I get to touch you." She ran a fingertip from his collar to his chest. "But you don't get to touch me. That's the game."

"Then touch yourself for me."

"What a dirty imagination you have, Simon." With a wicked smile, she traced her cherry-red fingernail along his cheek. "Where?"

Did that mean she was going to do it?

"Touch your mouth," he said through gritted teeth, praying she would.

She drew her hand away from him and stroked one fingertip across her lower lip, starting at one corner and sliding to the other. Her lip pouted out, and she did it again, back and forth, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Yeah," he groaned. "Suck on it."

Leona put two fingers into her mouth and sucked, tilting her head back to reveal her long, beautiful neck. Though she couldn't know what it would do to him, she slipped her fingers from her mouth and drew them down the delicate skin of her throat. The sight hit Simon like an explosion-so intense he thought he might come without the slightest touch. He shuddered, his breathing ragged, and reminded himself that it was too soon to tell her what he wanted to do to her. Despite the insanity of what they were already doing together, it was too much, too soon. Always.

It didn't matter. At the moment, there was something else he wanted just as much.

"Touch yourself. Your pussy." If he edged forward a few inches, he could kiss her there himself. But now that they were playing her little game, he didn't want it to end.

Her gorgeous eyes met his. She held his gaze as she slid her palm from the cup of her bra down her stomach to her panties.

"Oh, God." His heart was pounding, and his throat was so dry now that it ached. "Yes. Touch yourself for me."

She slid her hand underneath the silky fabric.

"Show me how you like it." He needed to sear the image into his brain, so he could hold onto it forever.

Vulnerability showed on her face for the first time, in the creasing of her eyebrows, the tense flutter of her eyelashes against her cheeks. "Simon..."

"Take them off. Please." He tried to swallow, but couldn't. "I need to see how wet you are when you come."

With her free hand, she pulled her panties past her hips and let them fall to the floor. He stared, mesmerized, as she slipped a finger inside herself and pressed against her palm.

"I want you so bad." The words tumbled from his mouth. "I've been hard for you for days."

"Mmm, yes." Her cheeks and the tops of her breasts were flushed. He wished he could run his hands across her skin. But if he could have touched her, none of this little show would have taken place. He wouldn't be watching the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

Her whole body stiffened, and she gave a little shudder, then again, and again, as the orgasm ran through her body. He couldn't have looked away even if the living room had spontaneously combusted behind him. Just when he thought she couldn't get any sexier, she went and did it.

A slow, delicious smile spread across her face, and that, he thought, was the best part.

She blinked. As her eyes cleared, the smile only grew broader. She wasn't self-conscious at all, standing in front of him in her bra and her high heels.

"You look so sexy like that. At my mercy." She looked him up and down. "Too bad that position will make it harder for me to fuck you."

Simon's already aching cock jumped. Without another word, she walked past him into the living room, her heels ticking on the hardwood. A few seconds later, he sensed her crouch behind him. The cuffs unlocked with a click. Wincing, he brought his arms together in front of his chest, stretching his shoulders and massaging his wrists.

"Let's take this off," she murmured from behind him, sliding her hands underneath his T-shirt. She pulled the shirt off over his head and reached around his waist to undo his fly. Simon brushed her hands away and did it himself, standing and shucking off his shoes and clothes.

He turned toward her, intending to pull her in for a kiss and take back some control over this situation. But as soon as he looked at her beautiful body again, insecurity paralyzed him. He didn't know how to please her. Even with his exes, he'd been nothing to write home about, and this was on a totally different level. This was-everything.

If Leona picked up on his uncertainty, she didn't show it. She sidled up to him and rested a hand on his chest. In her free hand, she held a condom.

"You are incredibly good-looking." Her gaze swept over his body. "I should've taken your clothes off before I cuffed you."

"Next time," Simon said, with an edge to his voice. He had no idea why he'd said it. He could hardly think, so consumed with lust.

"Next time, I won't go as easy on you." Leona put her hands on his biceps and pushed him toward her bed. She sat him down and climbed onto his lap, unwrapping the condom and sliding it onto him before he could offer to do it himself. "I've got you," she whispered in his ear, as she eased him onto his back. "I want you to be selfish. You can't hurt me. You don't need to worry about my pleasure. Just let go."

He wanted to argue with her, to fight the hypnotic quality of her voice. Her pleasure was always more important than his. He'd do anything to see her come again.

She took him in hand and slid him inside her. His breath tore out of him, followed by strangled curses. All arguments were forgotten as she shifted her hips.

He gripped her waist to get the rhythm right. This was the first time he'd truly touched her tonight. He wanted so much more, wanted to touch and kiss and lick her entire body, wanted to make her come, crying his name, while he was deep inside her.

But he couldn't last after what she'd put him through. All he could do was what she'd told him to do: let go. The tension spiraled inside him, building and building, until finally it shattered, crystal-sharp and so intense that it hurt.

Afterward, he struggled to return to Earth, still gasping for breath.

What the fuck had just happened?

He'd showed up here hours late, told her about his awful day, and somehow ended up handcuffed on her floor, watching her strip. He'd been so...so passive. So vulnerable with her.

He met Leona's smiling eyes and instantly wished he were hard again so they could have a second round. What was wrong with him? She was completely deranged, and she'd taken all kinds of liberties he hadn't given her permission to take.

Except she'd given him that safe word. She would've stopped if he'd used it. He just...hadn't.

Climbing off of him, Leona caught the condom in her hand and tossed it into a trashcan by her dresser. She kicked her shoes off and sat back down on the bed next to him. "Well, that was fun. Thanks."

"'Thanks'?" He pushed himself up to a sitting position on her silky red sheets. "I don't know what you're thanking me for. I didn't do anything."

She arched an eyebrow. "You gave me orders practically the entire time."

Orders? No. If anything, every word he'd said had been a plea. To display herself for him. To touch herself for him. As if he mattered. As if she found him attractive, interesting, worthwhile in any way. He would've begged her for that again, but he couldn't, because it was over and time for him to leave. He hadn't hooked up with a girl in years-since college, at least-but she probably hooked up with different guys all the time. Lots of guys, just like she'd said.

His whole body burned with embarrassment, thinking back on what he had asked for, how inadequate he had been, how much he had wanted. He wished he felt just as sanguine as she clearly did.

********

So! That happened. What did you think?

Next week: Leona starts to puzzle out Simon's hangups.

Thank you so much for reading!

London