Page 14 of Bound

I lay her back on the bed.

Her bound hands rest beneath her, lifting her hips. That look on her face. I can’t tear my gaze away.

“You’re staring,” she whispers.

“You’re stunning,” I say. “You’ve stunned me.”

“And are you going to do something about it?” She smiles.

“Yes.” Then I kiss her. Thorough enough to make her forget she was being mouthy.

My hand moves over her body, learning the landscape again with deliberate cruelty. Her throat. Her breasts. The dip of her waist. The soft curve of her belly. Her hip. The edge of her panties.

She lifts into my touch, demanding. She wants more. I slide my fingers beneath the lace and feel how wet she is.

My control frays. Enough that she sees it. I drag her panties down her legs and lower my mouth to her thigh. I kiss the inside of her thigh, moving closer.

Her hips shift. “Lucian.”

“Impatient,” I remind her.

“Controlling.”

I look up. “Yes.”

Then I put my mouth on her.

Her head falls back, breath breaking.

The room goes quiet around us except for her. Her sounds. Her restraint. Her shame gives way to need as I take my time and ruin every clever answer she might have had.

She says my name once. Then again. Then without pride.

Begging. I bring her close and stop.

Her eyes fly open. “Do not.”

“You told me to show you.”

“I did not tell you to be evil.”

“You should have been more specific.”

She makes a frustrated sound and pulls against the silk.

Beautiful.

I rise over her and unfasten my trousers.

Her gaze tracks every movement.

There is no coyness now. No pretending. Only the raw hunger between us.

Hunger that was bought. Betrayed. Burned.

Now bound in my bed.

I free her hands before I enter her.