She gasped in pain, pleading softly, "Stop—you're too rough. Please be gentle..." His low chuckle filled the darkness. "Gentle? But you seem to enjoy it..." ... What made the moment most intoxicating was her appearance: clad in nothing but a delicate spaghetti-strap nightgown, her damp hair cascading over one shoulder, a feather duster poised provocatively in her grasp. Bound to the bed lay a hooded figure—his wrists and ankles secured, his body rendered utterly vulnerable.