Chapter 1 - ****DISCLAIMER**** This chapter contains scenes with explicit sexual content. Please use your discretion/preference when reading.

She was in heaven. Or as close as I'll ever be. Laying in Darcy's bed again, she thought about everything that had happened.

Darcy had kept them in bed all day yesterday — he said to make up for how he had treated her first time — not that she cared what his reason was because the sex had been incredible. She didn't even know how many times she'd orgasmed yesterday. A lot was all that came to mind.

They'd done a few other things too, like eat, and nap together but nothing that involved leaving Darcy's Plaza penthouse. She thought about last night; she had asked him to tell her one thing that no one, or very few people, knew about him. That was when she had learned that he was an artist. At first, when he said he loved art, she thought he meant collecting it.

I mean, he's a billionaire, after all. Isn't that what they do?

He laughed and told her that he enjoyed making art. At her shocked expression, he'd asked to sketch her. She was initially taken aback at his request — he didn't seem like the artsy type, plus she wasn't sure she looked that great at the moment. However, her curiosity to see his talent and to see him work got the better of her and she acquiesced. He put on some Debussy and went to grab his sketchbook and pencils while she finished eating the room service dinner that had been sent up; then he had her sit on the couch, in her sheet, looking out at the city skyline while he worked. The music and his focus on his drawing brought out such emotion in him, she'd struggled to keep her eyes out the window instead of on him.

And the fact that all he'd been wearing was a sheet wrapped around his waist.

After fifteen minutes, she couldn't bear the suspense any longer, she stood up to see the result but her sheet got caught on the couch and was pulled off by her sudden movement. When he saw, he focus narrowed on her for a completely different reason and it wasn't until much later that she was able to get a glimpse of that sketch.

It was true, they hadn't talked about much after that but she chalked it up to the fact that they'd been deprived of each other for so long. As much as she wanted him — physically — she was hoping that after work today they would have chance to talk some more over dinner. There was so much about him that was unknown, an enigma, and her curiosity was gnawing at her.

Just as she decided it was time for her to get out of bed and get ready for work, she opened her eyes to see Darcy set a breakfast tray down on the nightstand before climbing on the bed and on top of her.

"Good morning, Mr. Intolerable," she said with a smile, looping her arms around his neck, looking into his molten chocolate eyes which were darkening precipitously as his naked body engulfed hers.

"Oh, it will be," he promised as his mouth took hers.

She responded immediate to the kiss, even though her lips felt bruised and swollen after yesterday. Be honest. Everywhere felt swollen and bruised after yesterday and yet her body still responded instantly to him. Her knees coming up on either side of his hips, letting his erection press into her stomach, her nipples hardened against his chest. His kiss made her lose all sense of anything except her need for him, which is why, it was only he broke the kiss that she realized he had somehow tied her arms above her head with a bathrobe sash.

"Darcy, what are you doing?" she laughed, making a poor attempt to free herself.

She felt him smile against her neck as he began to kiss his way down her torso, carefully avoiding her most sensitive areas to torture her. She watched him as he stared at her core for a moment, his jaw clenching with restraint, before he bent over and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her upper inner thigh. She closed her eyes and moaned in protest, trying to turn her hips towards his mouth. His hands held her steady as he kissed all the way down her left leg to her ankle when suddenly she found that limb strapped to the bed post.

Before she could protest, he had anchored her other leg and was standing at the foot of the bed drinking in the sight of her.

"Darcy, what are you doing?" she asked more seriously now. "I have to go to work! You have to untie me or I'm going to be late!"

"You're not going to work today," he bluntly informed her.

Oh no. Mr. Intolerably-Controlling-Darcy was back.

"Darcy, I have a job. I have to go to work. Phil has already been too lenient with me," she begged.

You know you want to find out what he has in store for you. Stop. Just call in sick. No! That's not the point!

"Darcy, you can't just force me to stay home like this!" she exclaimed, half laughing and half agitated that he was trying to control her again.

"Oh I won't be forcing you, darling," he said. Even though there was a soft smile on his face, his eyes were full of hard, unyielding desire. It was like he wasn't even hearing her and that's when she knew she was in for trouble.

She knew she'd cave in to his unyielding desire and she knew she was going to resent both of them for it.

She watched as he climbed back onto the bed, a taunting smile on his face as his mouth headed directly for her core.

It was going to be a difficult and delicious three months.

His kiss directly on her folds caused her hips to jerk up off the bed at the bolt of pleasure that rocketed through her.

"Darcy, please," she begged, "I need…to..go to…work." She tried to sound serious but her body was fighting against her mind, wanting, needing the pleasure that he was giving her. She moaned as he feasted on her, trying to maintain her sanity

"Do you really want to go to work?" he asked, pausing his kiss right on the verge of her orgasm.

"Yes," she responded breathlessly, even though her body screamed No!

Another kiss directly on her clit, bringing her right to the precipice. She moaned in protest, her hips trying to find his mouth, to find her release.

"I know what you want and it's not to go to work," he countered darkly as he pushed two fingers inside of her. Her muscles spasmed around him, needing more. "Tell me you want to stay and I'll give you what you want."

Her head thrashed to the side as she tested her restraints. She didn't…couldn't…give in but her mind was weakening over the demands of her body. He toyed with her, keeping her on the edge of her orgasm, her muscles in a constant state of flex, looking for release. She moaned over and over again, each time the noise severed the threads of anger and reality that she tried to hold on to.

"Tell me," he demanded.

"I want to stay!" she yelled at him in frustration, every piece of her needing release.

"Good girl." He gave her a satisfied smile before his mouth covered her again. His tongue swirled her clit as a third finger entered her, pushing her over the edge.

"Darcy!" she screamed his name as her orgasm rocked her, her limbs pulling against the restraints. Finally succumbing to the release that she had been resisting for so long, the waves of her orgasm kept rolling through her as his tongue continued to tease her until her body finally relaxed in complete satiety.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for her, Darcy wasn't done with her yet. Before she'd even had the strength to open her eyes, she felt his mouth on her right nipple and his hand on her left breast.

"Darcy…" she whispered, unsure of what she was even going to say.

She felt him smile against her breast as he sucked her nipple hard into his mouth, eliciting a gasp from her as the familiar static of pleasure ran to her core. He bit and sucked and teased each nipple in turn until she was squirming in pleasure again, feeling like she could come just from his attention to her breasts alone.

"Now tell me what you want, Beth," he instructed her, giving her nipples a respite as his hand went to her soaking core. "I know what you want. I can feel what you want," and to emphasize his point, his two fingers entered her again as her body jerked towards him against the restraints. "I want you to tell me. Now."

Through her pleasure-induced distraction, she heard the harshness in his voice; he was just as on edge as her and was fighting himself for control. She wanted to make him give in, to lose control but she was too far gone to resist him this time.

"You. I want you," she confessed on a moan. She wasn't even sure what she had said came out intelligibly until she felt his fingers leave her, replaced with the blunt head of his erection.

"God how I want you," he said in awe as he thrust completely inside her with shout.

Her over-stimulated senses were on edge immediately at the friction and pressure of having him thrusting, burying himself inside her. She managed to open her eyes and look up at him. Every muscle taut, his hands gripping her hips like his life depended on it as he drove into her. His head was thrown back, neck and jaw muscles clenched; God, he is gorgeous.

"Please," she whimpered, begging for release.

His hand found her clit and it took one experienced stroke to send her soaring over the edge. Her scream pierced the air as her orgasm rocked through her. Her muscles clenching around him, he roared as he slammed into her, finding his own release. For a minute they both simultaneously rocked against each other, riding out the waves of pleasure.

Collapsing again against her restraints, she vaguely felt through the haze of pleasure that the restraints were beginning to cut into her skin causing a sharp, burning pain at any slight movement.

"Darcy," she said breathlessly, "please..it hurts."

The pain transmitted in her voice roused him and he immediately looked at her with concern. He turned and ran his hands from her hips down her legs to the ties at her ankles, seeing the damage the ties were doing.

"Fuck," he cursed as pulled abruptly out of her and freed her ankles and wrists. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Her relief was palpable even though her joints had been rubbed raw by the ties and burned a bright red; she knew they were going to be bruised tomorrow. His jaw was clenching so hard as he threw the ties onto the floor.

She pushed herself up so she was sitting against the headboard of the bed and began to inspect her injured flesh.

"God, Beth," he began, strained, "I'm sorry. I don't —. I haven't —. Fuck me. I'm sorry." He was clearly angry at himself for how he had treated her. At a loss for words he abruptly stalked into the bathroom, returning with a warm moist washcloth.

When he sat down on the bed next to her, she inched away from him, anger and confusion in her eyes. Defeatedly he held out his hand for her to take the washcloth.

"What is wrong with you?" she asked accusingly, "How could you do that — push me against myself?"

"I know, fuck, I'm sorry, Beth. I can't explain what came over me." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "I just needed you so badly," he ended quietly.

Grabbing the washcloth from his hand, she quickly slid off the bed.

"Well, you need to figure out a way to explain it because if you keep using my need, my desire for you against me, I don't know what is going to happen. Now, I need to go to work." With that threatening statement, she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Leaning back against the door she took a shaky breath to calm herself, ignoring the rogue few tears that trailed down her cheeks.

How was this ever going to work?!

Yes, she was pissed at him for tying her up and pleasuring her into submission but she was even more pissed at herself because she was such a pushover around him. She wanted him; she wanted to be with him; she wanted to stay home from work with him. But that wasn't the point. She needed to maintain her own life if this was ever going to work - and especially if it wasn't. The struggle between the part of her that was her independent, proud self, and the part of her that was the closet, hopeless romantic waiting to be swept off her feet made keeping Darcy in his place difficult. She knew that for both their sakes, for the sake of their relationship, he had to relinquish some control; it was hard to force him to do that when all her body wanted to do was to let him take control.

She turned the shower on cold and stepped right in - a frigid punishment for letting her emotions get the best of her around him. Well, no more, she thought as she took the fastest shower ever. Wrapping her towel tightly around her, she steeled herself to face him again, knowing that whatever needed to be said was going to have to wait until tonight because she needed to be to the office five minutes ago.

She opened the bathroom door to an empty bedroom. Too stressed and rushed and just emotionally unprepared to confront him again, she quickly got dressed - thankful that he had left her in peace. The limited wardrobe she had at his place luckily contained a long-sleeve blouse and pants to hide the red marks marring her wrists and ankles. Walking out of the bedroom, he was still no where to be seen. She wished she was less nosey as she began to quickly check all the rooms in the penthouse. As angry as she was, she wanted to see him before she left but he was no where to be found. She'd just checked the spare bedroom past the office when she heard a loud crack coming from behind the locked door at the end of the hall.

Startled, she placed her ear up against the door but again heard nothing.

You don't have time for this, Beth.

Her mind was right, she had to get to work. She didn't know what was behind that door in the first place, let alone if it was actually Darcy in there. Grabbing her laptop bag and purse, she rushed out of the apartment praying that traffic wouldn't be a nightmare this morning.