The Caribbean sun blazed down on Angel's skin like a branding iron, its relentless heat claiming every inch of her exposed flesh. She lay sprawled on the blinding white sand, oversized sunglasses doing little to shield her from the world, the rhythmic pounding of waves against the shore echoing the insistent throb of her heart. Each crash resonated deep within her, mimicking the fevered pulse of last night—when Reece had restrained her, exploring her body with excruciating patience until time lost all meaning.

A shadow eclipsed her, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Hydration check." A glass beaded with condensation appeared in her line of sight, ice clinking against something tantalizingly fruity and cold.

Angel pushed herself up on one elbow, her gaze drinking him in. Three days into their escape she still reeled from his surprise—spiriting her away, packing only what he decreed, surrendering to every whispered promise. Her fingers brushed his as she took the glass, her voice a low, reverent husk. "Thank you, Sir."

His eyes flashed dangerously at the word, igniting that familiar inferno of need in her core. She could see the predator in him, barely leashed, always hungry.

"Good girl," he murmured, settling beside her on the lounger. His palm slid to her thigh, thumb drawing slow, cruel circles on her heated skin. He checked his watch, a wolfish smile curving his lips. "We’ve got dinner at eight. That gives us…" He inhaled sharply, eyes locking onto hers. "Four long, uninterrupted hours."

Her chest constricted, the promise of what he had in mind making her heart race. "What shall we do, Sir?" she whispered, the beach forgotten, the world narrowing to just the two of them.

Reece's fingers crept higher, grazing the edge of her bikini bottom, his voice a low growl. "I want that outdoor shower. No roof—just you, me, and anyone lucky enough to spot us from above."

A heat that had nothing to do with the sun flushed through her veins. The thought of being taken under the open sky, exposed to gods and strangers alike, made her pulse thunder.

He leaned forward, voice husky, breath hot at her ear. "I think about you bent over against those stones, water streaming down your spine, your wrists bound just so. Your moans echoing off the walls."

Angel tightened her grip on the drink until the glass threatened to slip. "Here? Now?" Her voice trembled on the edge of surrender.

"Finish your drink first." His thumb pressed harder into the smooth skin of her inner thigh, sending a shiver racing up her body. "Then you’ll come inside, strip slowly while I watch from the bed. After that," he paused, voice lowering, "you’ll walk to that shower, and I’ll follow with the silk ties from your sundress."

Her breath hitched at the promise, warmth pooling low in her belly. Already she felt the rough stone under her palms, already imagined the silk binding her wrists.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered, lifting the glass with trembling fingers. The liquid was sweet and tangy, but all she tasted was anticipation. Reece’s gaze never wavered as she drained it. When she set the empty glass down, he rose, his broad frame eclipsing the sun, casting her in his shadow.

"Stand up," he directed softly, yet the command was steel.

Her legs trembled as she rose. The beach was deserted, yet the mere possibility of prying eyes sent adrenaline crackling through her. Reece stood close behind, his presence a tangible force.

He traced a finger from the nape of her neck down her spine, pausing where the strings of her bikini top held her in place. Angel arched into him, body aching at the light touch.

"Walk," he breathed against her ear. "Slowly. I want to drink in every movement."

With exquisite slowness, she stepped across the white sand. Each footfall was measured, each sway of her hips calculated under his unblinking gaze. When she reached the stone steps up to their terrace, his hand landed firmly on the small of her back, guiding her toward the cool dark of the villa.

Inside, the air was a relief—dim, all pristine white linens and rich, dark wood. Beyond the sliding glass doors stood the circular stone shower, roofless, daring the sky to watch. She felt the taut pull of excitement coil in her belly.

"Bedroom first," Reece whispered, his voice velvet and steel. Angel’s heart pounded as he led her toward the soft promise of their bed, every step a prelude to a more intoxicating, unspoken thrill.

The instant they crossed into the bedroom, the air crackled with desire so thick it tasted electric. Reece’s hand at her waist pressed Angel forward to the center of the room—centimeter by centimeter—until she stood before the king-sized bed where their bodies had tumbled together night after night.

"Turn," he rasped, voice like gravel sliding over a flame. "Show me your back."

Angel pivoted, her bare feet sinking into the lush carpet. She kept her gaze low, arching her spine in perfect submission, the faint quiver of her lashes fueling his hunger.

"Now look at me," he said, settling onto the bed’s edge. His posture was casual—yet his eyes bore into her, scorching every inch of exposed skin. "Undress with your eyes on mine."

Heart hammering, Angel’s fingers tightened on the knot of her bikini top. She met his gaze, slow and deliberate, as the strings slipped free. The soft Caribbean breeze whispered across her shoulders, and then the top dropped in a silken swish to join its mate at her feet. Reece’s breath caught; his knuckles whitened around the mattress edge.

"Perfect," he murmured. "Keep going."

She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her bottoms and rolled them down, inch by teasing inch, until nothing remained between her and him. Her pulse thundered in her ears, her nipples tightening in the air’s careless caress.

Reece rose, lithe as a panther, and crossed to the closet where her sundress hung. His fingers slipped the silk from its hooks with a hush that sent a shiver arcing between her shoulder blades.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered, stalking her in slow circles. Angel lifted her arms; her wrists met at the small of her spine, thrusting her breasts forward. He stopped, body heat pulsing against her skin without a touch, then wound the silk ties around her wrists—taut enough to remind her who held the reins, gentle enough to leave her skin unbruised.

"How do you feel?" he whispered, breath hot in her ear.

"Perfect, Sir," she breathed, testing the bonds. Solid.

"Walk to the shower." His palm urged her forward, guiding her down the terrace. "Remember, anyone could see us from above. That thought excites you, doesn’t it?"

Angel’s steps were small and trembling: the cool stone beneath her toes, the bound vulnerability of her wrists, the raw thrill of exposure to the sky. The outdoor shower loomed ahead like a consecrated chamber—stone walls curving up to the open heavens, water fixtures gleaming with promise.

"Stop," Reece said, hand pressing into her back. Angel froze, every nerve ending aflame. He trailed his palms down her ribs, thumbs brushing the underswell of her breasts before sliding along her hips.

"Step inside," he murmured, lips brushing her ear. "Stand facing that far wall. When the water hits you, each drop will burn like a kiss—but you stay until I say otherwise."

"Yes, Sir," she gasped.

As he followed, the echo of his footsteps were stark against the stone. A snap of fabric, the thud of his jeans on the floor, the precise click of his belt release. Angel clenched her jaw, refusing to look back, craving the next command.

"Good control." His chest pressed into her back, the coarse roughness of his stubble sparking over her bound wrists. "I’ll reward you."

With a slow twist, the shower knob protested and then surrendered. Warm water pounded her shoulders, rolling down her spine in heated rivulets. Angel inhaled sharply, head tilting back to catch every drop. He slid his arms around her waist, molding himself to her slick skin.

"You’re breathtaking," Reece growled, palms cupping her breasts as the water sluiced over his hands.

"Please, Sir," she whimpered, pressing her hips back against him.

"Say it," he demanded, thumbs circling her hardened peaks until she gasped.

"I want you to touch me everywhere," she hissed. "I want to come apart for you beneath the sky."

A low hum vibrated in his throat. He let go of her breasts, hand sliding down her ribs, drifting over the valley of her hips.

"Be specific," he teased, fingers flicking across the slick of her inner thighs. The water chased his touch, making every nerve roar.

Angel’s body arched into him. "Your fingers—between my legs. I want you to make me cry out, even if someone sees."

"There’s my honest girl." His hand found her slick center and pressed in, warm and insistent. "So wet already." He cocked a hip, bracing her against the wall. "Look up."

She lifted her face to the endless blue—no roof, no walls to hide them. The vulnerability ignited a fresh blaze between her thighs.

"Good," he breathed. "Turn around."

She complied, sliding until her back hit the rough stone. The contrast—cool wall, hot cascade—made her shiver. He appeared in her vision: naked, water tracing every plane of his muscles.

"Spread," he commanded, stepping in close. Her legs parted, and he pressed his palm to the stone beside her head, caging her in place.

His free hand resumed its exploration, fingers sliding through her wetness in a relentless, maddening rhythm. Angel’s head lolled back as she teetered on the edge.

"Eyes on me," he growled.

His gaze and his touch fused into something intoxicating, driving her higher until she was trembling around him. Just as she tipped toward release, he withdrew.

"Patience," he rumbled, grinding his hardness against her belly through the thin barrier of water.

Her breath hitched. He lifted one leg over his hip, opening her even further. "Who owns you?"

"You, Sir," she moaned, voice thick with need.

"Say it."

"I belong to you," she cried, arching into his cocked wrist as water thundered down, and at that instant—every nerve, every thought—shattered in a white-hot explosion of pleasure.

"Beautiful," he breathed against her throat, his voice rough with restraint as her body trembled against him. "But we’re just getting started."

The water continued its relentless cascade over their intertwined bodies as Angel fought to catch her breath. Her wrists strained against the silk bonds, desperate to touch him, to pull him closer. Reece’s eyes darkened as he watched her struggle.

"Turn around again," he commanded, his palm sliding down her wet spine. "Hands against the wall."

Angel’s legs felt unsteady as she pivoted, pressing her palms flat against the rough stone. The contrast of textures—smooth water, coarse wall, soft silk at her wrists—sent fresh waves of sensation through her oversensitive skin.

"Arch for me," he murmured, his hands spanning her waist. She obeyed, pushing her hips back toward him, and pressing her forehead against the cool stone. The water streamed down her back, between her shoulder blades, creating rivulets that traced the curve of her spine and flowed over the swell of her ass.

Reece’s hands tightened on her waist. "Perfect," he growled, his voice barely audible over the rushing water. "Do you know how you look right now? Glistening. Waiting. Mine."

His palm slid up her back, between her bound wrists, then tangled in her wet hair. He tugged, not roughly but with enough force to arch her neck back, exposing her throat to the open sky. The position left her completely vulnerable, completely his.

"Anyone could see you now," he whispered against her ear. "Anyone could look down and see you surrendering to me. Does that excite you?"

A moan escaped her lips as she nodded, the thought sending liquid heat through her veins. The possibility of being discovered, of someone witnessing her complete submission, made her pulse race faster than the water cascading over them.

"Use your words," he commanded, his grip tightening in her hair.

"Yes, Sir," she gasped. "It excites me."

His free hand traced the curve of her hip, fingers dancing over her slick skin with maddening slowness. "Good girl. Now tell me what you want."

Angel’s breath hitched as his touch grew bolder, more insistent. "I want you inside me, Sir. Please."

"Where?" His voice was velvet-wrapped around steel.

"Here," she whispered, pressing back against him. "Now. Under the open sky where anyone could see how completely I’m yours."

A low growl of approval rumbled from his chest as he positioned himself behind her. The water slicked between their bodies as he pressed his hardness against her entrance, teasing, making her whimper with need.

"Beg me," he commanded, his voice strained with his own desire.

"Please, Sir," she gasped, pushing back against him. "Please take me. I need you inside me. I need to feel you—all of you."

In one fluid motion, he thrust forward, filling her completely. Angel cried out, the sound echoing off the stone walls and disappearing into the vast blue above. The sensation was overwhelming—his hardness stretching her, the water cascading over them both, the knowledge that they were exposed to the heavens.

"So tight," he hissed through clenched teeth, gripping her hips with bruising intensity. "So perfect for me

He began to move, each thrust deliberate and deep, the rhythm matching the pounding of the water against their bodies. The silk ties around Angel’s wrists twisted as she strained against them, desperate to find purchase against the slippery stone.

"Stay still," he commanded, voice ragged with restraint. "Take what I give you."

Angel bit her lip, fighting to obey as the pleasure built within her again. The exposure—being taken so thoroughly under the open sky—heightened every sensation. Each drag of his length inside her sent sparks shooting through her veins, her legs trembling with the effort to remain upright.

"Look up," he ordered, tugging her hair gently. "Watch the sky while I claim you."

She tilted her head back, eyes fixed on the endless blue above them. A seabird circled overhead, its distant silhouette a reminder of their visibility. The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, her inner walls clenching around him.

"That’s it," Reece groaned, his pace quickening. "Feel how exposed you are. How vulnerable." His hand slipped around to find her most sensitive spot, fingers working in tight circles as he drove deeper. "Come for me again. Let the whole world hear you."

The dual sensation—his relentless thrusts and skilled fingers—shattered her control. Angel’s cries echoed off the stone as her second climax crashed over her, more intense than the first. Her body convulsed around him, drawing a harsh groan from his throat.

"Mine," he growled, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "Say it."

"Yours," she sobbed, overwhelmed by sensation. "Always yours, Sir."

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his groan primal and raw as he pulsed inside her. His forehead dropped against her shoulder, breath coming in harsh pants that mingled with the cascading water. For several heartbeats, they remained locked together, trembling under the open sky.

Slowly, reverently, Reece released his grip on her hair, his fingers trailing down her spine with feather-light touches. He pressed tender kisses to her shoulder blades, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

"Beautiful," he murmured against her skin. "So perfect for me."

With careful movements, he withdrew from her body, steadying her hips when her knees threatened to buckle. His hands worked deftly at the silk ties, unwinding them from her wrists. As the bonds fell away, he massaged the slight indentations they had left, pressing gentle kisses to each wrist before turning her in his arms.

Angel’s legs gave out, and he caught her easily, cradling her against his chest as the warm water continued to rain down on them both. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, still trembling from the intensity of their encounter.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, one hand stroking her wet hair while the other traced soothing circles on her back. "You did so well for me."

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, finding his dark eyes soft with affection and satisfaction. The predatory edge had melted away, leaving only tenderness and possession of a different kind.

"Thank you, Sir," she breathed, voice hoarse from crying out.

He smiled, thumb brushing across her swollen lips. "We should get you dried off and fed. You’ll need your strength for tonight."

A pleasant shiver ran through her at the promise in his words. Reece reached behind her to shut off the water, then pulled her fully against him, skin to skin, no longer for passion but for connection.

"I brought a surprise for dinner," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Something special for my good girl."

Angel melted against him, basking in his praise. The Caribbean breeze caressed their wet bodies, a delicious contrast to the lingering heat between them. "What kind of surprise?"

"The kind that makes you blush in public," he said with a wicked smile, leading her out of the shower. He reached for a plush white towel draped over the stone wall and wrapped it around her shoulders. "But first, let me take care of you."

With careful attention, he dried every inch of her body, his touch reverent and possessive. Angel closed her eyes, surrendering to his ministrations, letting him trace the towel over her sensitized skin. Her body hummed with lingering pleasure, muscles pleasantly sore from their exertions.

"What time is it now?" she asked, voice still slightly breathless.

Reece glanced at his watch, droplets of water sliding down his forearm. "Just past five. Plenty of time to get ready." His eyes darkened again as he wrapped the towel around her. "And perhaps for a proper nap before dinner."

He guided her back into the villa, the cool air conditioning raising goosebumps across her damp skin. The enormous bed beckoned, sheets still rumpled from that morning’s activities. Angel felt a renewed flutter of desire despite her exhaustion.

"Lie down," he said, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument. "On your stomach."

Angel obeyed without question, sinking face-first into the cool Egyptian cotton sheets. The fabric felt like silk against her overheated skin as she settled into the mattress, arms folded beneath her head. Behind her, she heard Reece moving around the room—the soft sound of drawers opening, the clink of something glass.

The bed dipped as he joined her, his weight settling beside her hip. "Close your eyes," he murmured, and she felt something cool drizzle across her shoulders. The scent of coconut and vanilla filled the air.

"Massage oil," he explained, his palms spreading the slick liquid across her shoulder blades. "You’re going to be sore tomorrow if I don’t take care of these muscles."

His hands worked with practiced skill, kneading the tension from her neck and shoulders, working down her spine with firm pressure. Angel melted beneath his touch, each stroke unraveling her further into blissful surrender. The oil warmed against her skin as he worked, his thumbs finding knots she hadn’t realized existed.

"You’re so responsive," he murmured, hands sliding lower to massage the dimples at the base of her spine. "Even now, after everything, your body arches into my touch."

She hummed contentedly, too languid to form words. His palms cupped her ass, fingers digging into the muscle with perfect pressure that walked the exquisite line between pleasure and pain. Angel’s breath hitched as his touch skimmed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

"Still so sensitive," he observed, voice thick with satisfaction. "I love watching you react to me."

His fingers drifted higher, then retreated, a deliberate tease that made her squirm beneath his hands. Angel bit her lip, fighting the urge to press back against his touch.

"Patience," he admonished softly, returning his attention to her calves and the arches of her feet. His thumbs worked methodically, finding pressure points that made her moan into the pillow. "We have all night for more. Right now, I want you relaxed."

The combination of post-orgasmic bliss and his skilled hands soon had Angel drifting on the edge of consciousness. Her eyelids grew heavy as Reece continued his ministrations, his touch growing gentler as he sensed her surrender to sleep.

"Rest now," he whispered, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades. "I’ll wake you when it’s time to dress for dinner."

Angel mumbled her assent against the pillow, already half-lost to dreams. She felt Reece shift beside her, his hand coming to rest possessively on the small of her back as her breathing deepened.

When she woke, golden light slanted through the villa’s windows, painting everything in amber hues. The bed beside her was empty but still warm, and she could hear Reece moving about in the adjoining bathroom. Angel stretched languidly, noting the pleasant ache between her thighs and the lingering scent of coconut oil on her skin.

"Good, you’re awake," came his voice from the doorway. She turned to find him already dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. Her mouth went dry at the sight—he looked devastatingly handsome, and the memory of those same hands claiming her body sent heat pooling in her belly.

"Time to get ready," he said, crossing to the closet. "I’ve laid out your dress."

Angel sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest as she followed his gaze to the garment draped across the chair. It was stunning—a flowing sundress in deep emerald silk that would complement her skin tone perfectly. But it was what lay beside it that made her pulse quicken: a small velvet box and something else she couldn’t quite make out from this distance.

"Sir?" she questioned, tilting her head.

His smile was wicked. "Your surprise. But dress first—no underwear."

Heat flooded her cheeks as she understood his intention. Dinner would be an exercise in control, in secret submission while surrounded by strangers. The thought both thrilled and terrified her.

"Yes, Sir," she breathed, rising from the bed on unsteady legs.

"You look absolutely stunning," Reece said, his voice low and full of desire. "I’d keep you here all night if we didn’t have reservations." He extended a hand, which she took shyly, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

Angel followed him out onto the balcony, their bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. Below them, the Caribbean twinkled like a darkened sapphire, dotted with the lights of distant yachts and nearby resorts. It was breathtaking, but nothing compared to the man beside her.

"One more surprise," he said, reaching into his pants pocket. He withdrew a small box, which glinted in the diminishing sunlight. Angel’s breath caught in her throat as he sank down one knee.

"Angel," he began, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady. "This isn’t quite what you’re thinking."

She blinked, heart hammering against her ribs as he opened the box. Inside wasn’t a ring, but a delicate silver anklet with a tiny charm dangling from its center.

"Turn around," he instructed, voice regaining its familiar authority.

Angel obeyed, pivoting slowly on bare feet. The evening breeze kissed her calves as Reece’s warm fingers encircled her ankle. The cool metal slid against her skin, followed by the subtle click of the clasp.

"Look," he said.

She glanced down. The charm—a perfect silver key—glinted in the fading light.

"So you remember who holds the key to your pleasure," he explained, rising to his feet. His fingers traced up her calf, sending shivers through her body. "An anklet you can wear even when we’re apart," he finished, his thumb tracing circles around her ankle bone. "A constant reminder of who you belong to."

Angel’s throat tightened with emotion. "It’s beautiful," she whispered, mesmerized by how the silver caught the dying light. The key was small, discreet—something only they would understand the significance of. She looked up, meeting his gaze. "Thank you, Sir."

His eyes darkened at the title, but his smile remained tender. "There’s more," he said, returning to the bedroom. Angel followed, the anklet a whisper of cool metal against her skin with each step.

Reece retrieved the velvet box she’d noticed earlier. "Open it."

Her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted the lid. Nestled inside on black satin lay a pair of silver orbs connected by a thin cord.

"Ben wa balls," Reece explained, his voice dropping to that commanding timbre that made her knees weak. "You’ll wear them during dinner."

Angel’s breath caught as understanding bloomed. The weight of them in her palm felt both innocent and scandalous. "Inside me? The whole time?"

"Yes." His fingers brushed hers as he took the box. "Consider it... training. For later tonight."

Heat flared across her cheeks as she pictured herself sitting in a crowded restaurant, these secret spheres shifting inside her with every movement. No one would know except Reece, whose eyes would track her every reaction across the table.

"They’re weighted," he continued, lifting them from the box. The silver caught the light, gleaming with wicked promise. "Every step, every laugh, every time you cross your legs—you’ll feel them. And I’ll know exactly what you’re feeling."

Angel swallowed hard, desire blooming fresh and urgent despite their earlier activities. "And if I... react?" she whispered.

"Then you’ll have to control yourself," he replied, voice like velvet over steel. "Or everyone will know what a wanton little thing you are." He stepped closer, his free hand cupping her cheek. "Color?"

Their code. Her chance to refuse if this pushed beyond her boundaries.

"Green," she breathed without hesitation. The thought of being his secret plaything in public only heightened her arousal.

"Good girl." His thumb traced her lower lip. "Bend over the edge of the bed."

Angel complied, heart hammering as she braced herself against the mattress. The silk dress rode up her thighs as she widened her stance. Reece’s palm stroked the back of her leg, a soothing touch before his fingers parted her, preparing her for the intrusion. She was still slick from their shower encounter, her body accepting the first sphere easily as he worked it inside her.

"Breathe," he murmured, his other hand steadying her hip as the second ball followed. The fullness was immediate and intense, different from being filled by him—a constant, shifting pressure that would move with her every gesture.

Angel gasped as she straightened, the weighted spheres settling deeper. Even the simple act of standing upright sent waves of sensation through her core.

"How do you feel?" Reece asked, smoothing her dress back into place with possessive hands.

"Full," she managed, taking a tentative step. The balls shifted, drawing a soft whimper from her lips. "Sir, I don’t know if I can—"

"You can," he interrupted firmly. "And you will." His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his dark gaze. "Because I believe in you. And because the reward for being my good girl tonight will be worth every torturous moment."