Whips. Blindfolds. Restraints. And a man rumored to be the most skilled Dom in the city...
As the BDSM instructor at the hottest fetish club in Los Angeles, Bianca Alexander prides herself on being open, honest, and informative with her clientele when it comes to kink. The fact that she hasn’t knelt before a master of her own in four long years doesn’t affect her ability to teach, though a part of her longs to be back in her Dom's arms. But when her boss hires Cade Sinclair--her primary rival from a competing club--to assist teaching her classes, Bianca’s comfortable solo act becomes a sinful duet drenched in Pure Sin.
So this was Cade Sinclair’s idea of educating, was it? Bianca clenched her fists. Well, if he thought she would allow this type of behavior in her studio, he was in for a surprise. She narrowed her eyes and plotted his slow and painful death. No way in hell would she allow her classes and clients to act as a buffet to the man’s obviously insatiable ego.
“On your knees, slave.”
The warm whisper burned against the back of her neck and Bianca’s knees buckled. But it wasn’t the sensation of the breath against her skin that had her reeling. It was the voice. The low seductive drawl had coaxed her to orgasm several times in the past.
“I must be losing my touch. Never took you this long to obey an order before.”
Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks.
It was Sin all right.
Bianca turned on wobbly legs and wondered when her three-quarter-inch heels had narrowed to the width of toothpicks. She leveled her eyes with a tanned V of flesh bordered by the clean lines of a stylish charcoal dress shirt. It wasn’t necessary to see his face. She recalled the exact width, the masculine curve of his chest, the powerful shoulders. Every ounce of her being warned not to look up, yet she couldn’t stop herself. She slowly lifted her gaze and an invisible fist struck her in the solar-plexus.
God help her.
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