Excerpt of Fur Ball Fever by Maureen Fisher

When Nick freed Grace's lips, her breath was coming hard and fast. More turned on than she could ever remember, she took another risk. Still gasping for air, she explained, "Most bondage scenarios revolve around a fantasy." She paused for a beat, gathering her courage. "You said I'd be in charge," she reminded him. "I want to act out a fantasy."

He gave an audible gulp. "Anything specific?"

"Mmmm-hmmm," she said around a deep, shuddering breath. One fantasy had tantalized her thoughts and tormented her dreams ever since she'd laid eyes on Nick. Breathing hard, she raised her head. "You're the white knight. I'm a fair maiden you're rescuing from the clutches of an evil ogre who has tied her up."

His eyes blazed. "I can live with that, darlin'," he said. "Is this fair maiden conscious or unconscious?"

A wave of hot desire thickened her speech. "Sleeping. The white knight is trying to awaken her." Suffused with the heady liberation of surrender, Grace closed her eyes and held her breath. She didn't have to see Nick to feel the heat of his gaze scalding her skin. The tension became unbearable.

Then the mattress sank under his weight. Although he didn't touch her, his body radiated heat. The aroma of sandalwood and hungry male enveloped her. She compressed her lips on the moan that struggled to escape. If the white knight didn't do something, and fast, she would jump clear out of her skin—if she wasn't cuffed to the bed.

His mouth skimmed her cheek, trailed heat down her jaw line, feathered tiny kisses down her neck. He stopped above her right breast. She pictured him staring. Her nipples throbbed with anticipation, longing for the tug of his mouth. She held her breath, squeezed her eyes shut, forced her body to remain motionless. This was too good, too delicious, to break the spell. Her body was on fire simply from imagining his next move.

The mattress shifted. She opened one eye a slit to find him kneeling between her legs. Closing the eye quickly—before he noticed the fair maiden was wide awake and more than ready for action—she waited, clenched and quivering.