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.