Legally Bound

by Rynne Raines

  “No. I’m fine,” she lied, and flattened her hand against his chest. “Let’s go.”

  Donavan swore under his breath and shook his head.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if you aren’t a masochist.”

  She was beginning to wonder the same.

  By the time they reached the end of the corridor, Eve needed to come so badly her legs were wobbling like half-set gelatin. Donavan shouldered open the door into the main event room and for a brief instant the sight of her surroundings temporarily distracted her from the fire under her skin.

  Caitlyn’s husband spared no expense when it came to setting a mood, Eve noted as she swung an awestruck gaze around the enormous chamber. The theme was unmistakably Grecian. Billowing white sheets strung across stylish bronzed rods divided the vast space into several sections that circled a hollow opening Eve assumed was some type of staging area. Hearing a mixture of low moans, she redirected her eyes toward the source of the sound. Her breath caught.

  A dark shadow of silhouettes swayed in a sensual rhythm patented solely to lovers. But there were not only two silhouettes behind the sheer fabric. There were multiple bodies and limbs entwined. If she was seeing correctly, those of one woman and three men. A throaty scream ripped throughout the vaulted chamber and Eve’s pussy clenched.

  “W—what are those men doing to that woman?” she whispered, yet curiosity kept her gaze pinned on the sheet.

  “They’re pleasuring her,” Donavan answered.

  “All…all three of them?”

  “Yes. All three. One of the men is her Dominant, yet in a situation like that, he would control all parties involved.”

  “He chooses to share her? Why would he do that?”

  “To intensify her pleasure,” he told her. “Instead of using toys on areas of her body that would go neglected because he’s only one man, he uses actual people to tend to the needs he can’t.”

  A shiver stole through her. Though Eve never thought of herself as the type who’d be interested in multiple partners, seeing such a scene firsthand, on top of Donavan’s explanation surprisingly gave the concept considerable appeal.

  Donavan splayed his hand on her lower back and began guiding her through the room but Eve remained captivated by the orgy taking place behind the sheet.

  “I thought Doms were the jealous types.”

  “Some are.”

  Nibbling her lower lip, she zigzagged between two large divans upholstered in crushed red velvet while trying not to stare at the completely nude bodies sprawled all over them.

  “Are you that type?” Eve asked before she could stop herself.

  Donavan stopped dead in his tracks and pinned her with a gaze so scalding it burned her face. Oh God, she shouldn’t have asked that. Why would she ask him that?

  “I’m the type,” he whispered, “who can put my ego aside to ensure my submissive’s absolute satisfaction. I think the real question is whether or not said sub trusts me enough to surrender that much control to me.”

  Without another word, he started back into a slow stride but Eve didn’t fall into step beside him. She stood frozen. Her mind refused to move past the last thing he said without further scrutiny. Trust seemed to be the foundation on which a Dom/sub relationship was built. Without its existence, there was no real exchange of power or ultimate surrender.

  Would she ever trust someone so completely? Eve frowned. She imagined trust of that magnitude required two people to be in love.

  Donavan cleared his throat and Eve was jerked from her thoughts. The moment her eyes met his, the earth seemed to shift under her feet. Her tummy fluttered and her throat dried. A swell of warmth gathered in her chest directly above her heart.

  No. Eve mentally shook her head. No it wasn’t possible. No man, not even Donavan Carver, as talented as he was in bed, could break through her defenses and worm his way into her heart within a matter of days.

  However, their relationship outside these walls spanned ten years. They went to college together. After graduation, they’d often find themselves frequenting similar venues. Not to mention her best friend’s husband happened to be Donavan’s closest confidant, which led to them spending a fair amount of time together whether they planned to or not.

  Lead filled her chest and the room tilted and swirled around her. She couldn’t be in love with him. Could she be?

  “I’m beginning to think I should have tethered you to the end of a leash,” Donavan murmured as he approached her. Eve barely comprehended what he was saying but she saw his lips move. His skillful, warm, beautiful lips…Oh, God.

  “Are you all right?” He brushed his knuckles down her arm and fire bled through her veins.

  No, I’m not all right. I’m definitely not all right.

  “I’m fine,” she lied, ignoring the musings of her over-analytical mind. This is just sex, she told herself firmly. Fantastic sex that she wasn’t about to pass on due to a fleeting moment of madness. Rather than panic or ruin their last evening together, she tried focusing on the sensations wreaking havoc through her body.

  Donavan rested his hand on the small of her back and guided her forward. With each step Eve took, the clip on her clit shifted and teased her slippery flesh. At the same time, her swollen nipples rubbed against the silk of her corset and caused shockwave after shockwave until she was back on the verge of erupting.

  By the time they reached the so-called dining area, Eve desperately needed to sit. Pausing, she stared down at a slab of cream-colored marble propped up by four short, fat pillars. It looked more like a large coffee table than dining table. Also, there was only one round cushion on the floor beside it. She creased her brow.

  “Are you sure this is where we’re meant to be?”

  “There’s not a doubt in my mind.”

  “But, there’s only one cushion. There aren’t even any place settings.”

  “Take a look around you,” he told her. “Look closely.”

  Frowning, Eve shifted her gaze around the room. All the tables were the same—one cushion beside them and no place settings. A flicker of movement drew her attention to the eastern side of the room and her heart picked up speed. A very naked, very voluptuous blonde climbed onto the marble slab and eased down on her back while her Dom took his seat on the pillow. A female server approached them, balancing a tray on her forearm. Meticulously, the server began placing delicate portions of food all over the blonde’s naked and motionless body. Once finished, the server disappeared back into the shadows, leaving the couple to their meal.

  As the Dom dipped his head and kissed his way up between his submissive’s legs, gliding his tongue along the inside of one thigh, Eve stared in awe. The strange ritual was the most erotic thing Eve had ever witnessed. She glanced around and noticed the custom taking place on every side of her. She had to be dreaming.

  A pair of powerful arms gathered her up and she was hoisted against Donavan’s firm body. Chest heaving, she turned her gaze on him and saw the ghost of a smile reflecting in his eyes.

  “You’re not seriously going to eat off me,” she said in disbelief.

  “Sweetheart, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Before she could protest, he lowered her onto the table then proceeded to remove one high heel after the other. A nervous butterfly twitched in Eve’s stomach as she spotted a server on approach. It was too late to turn back now.

  “Relax,” Donavan whispered. “You’ll enjoy this.” He eased her down until she was lying flat on her back. Her heartbeat pounded in her temples as the vaulted ceiling drifted in and out of focus.

  “Close your eyes. It’ll heighten the sensation,” he told her.

  Closing her eyes was a good idea. She didn’t exactly want to watch a complete stranger cover her half naked body in bite-sized portions of food. Eve shut her eyes. Awkward as the situation was, she didn’t think about the hundred or so strangers inside the room with them or her semi-dressed state. She thought of how tender and swollen
her nipples were, and how her clit throbbed. She thought about how good it was going to feel to have Donavan’s mouth on her again.

  The server made no sound on approach. Eve stared at the inside of her eyelids and wiggled her toes as she waited. The first piece of food that touched Eve’s skin was placed directly on the swell of her breasts and felt like ice. The shape was rounded. The texture was smooth, soft, and moist. She had no idea what it was but it smelled absolutely divine—Ginger and apricot? The chill of it swept through her. Her nipples drew even harder under the silk of her corset and she shivered.

  “Stay still,” Donavan whispered, his warm breath drifting over her cheek.

  “I’m trying,” Eve whispered back. She honestly was but with her eyes closed the nerves in her body were ultra sensitive. It didn’t help that the next item placed on her had a temperature that contrasted with the first. A warm liquid drizzled over her tummy within the small space between the bottom of her corset and the band of her garter. She moaned at the heat pooling in her belly button and gripped the edges of the table.

  More and more food was set on her until her bare thighs, stomach, and chest felt alive with sensation. She didn’t think anything could feel quite so tantalizing. Then Donavan put his mouth on her. His lips brushed lightly along her collarbone and the whispered heat of his breath tickled her skin. A shiver danced through her and she tried desperately not to move. She wiggled her toes as his warm mouth trailed down her chest, nipping and teasing at her exposed flesh. He used just the right amount of pressure, pinching her skin between his teeth enough that her breath hitched, but not so hard it hurt.

  His teeth raked a little harder and Eve let out a low purr. “Oh, you’d better eat fast. I can’t take much more.”

  “Oh no, I plan on taking my sweet time.” He darted his tongue under the border of lace outlining her breasts. The rough texture of his tongue grated over the tip of her swollen nipple and her pussy throbbed. For fear the food would go tumbling, she fought the urge to rub her thighs together while Donavan continued to weave a spell over her with his mouth.

  As he fed from her, kissing and suckling at every exposed area of her body, Eve’s back arched and a moan poured past her lips.

  So this was how the other half lived—drunk on sex and sensation. Perhaps it was the ambience or the hypnotic echo of strangers’ moans intermingling with hers but here and now, Eve was able to forget about the consequences. The concern for her professional reputation didn’t enter the equation. The past failed to haunt her. If only she could remain in this sinful realm forever.

  “Open your mouth.” The instant her brain registered Donavan’s command, her lips parted. A second later, a warm stream of sweet liquid poured onto her tongue followed by a small portion of food—honey and some type of exotic melon? She chewed slowly, savoring the soft, fleshy texture and rich flavor.

  “This is the second time in two days that you’re feeding me,” she murmured, and finally opened her eyes. Donavan arched an eyebrow and swirled the tips of two fingers over her tummy.

  “So glad you’re keeping tally.” He traced his fingers along the bow of her lips, forcing her to sweep clean melted Swiss chocolate with her tongue. “Keep in mind, I don’t do anything without proper motivation.”

  He braced his hands on either side of her hips and dipped his head between her thighs. Eve gasped. His velvety tongue traced a wet path up the inside of one thigh and her legs started to vibrate. He hooked his fingers in her panties. After tugging them aside, he swept his tongue over the curtain of jaded jewels, gently grazing them over her quivering cleft. Eve clawed at the stone slab beneath her and panted as a blur of white light danced before her eyes. She repeatedly blinked, trying to ward off the pressure building in her abdomen, but it was no use. Desperate to cool off, she turned her cheek into the icy marble hoping it would be enough to soothe her fever. It wasn’t.

  Through the eyelets of her Venetian mask, Eve peered at the table across from her. There sat three men surrounding one woman. Could it be the lovers from behind the sheet? She wondered in dizzy amazement as she watched them feast on the woman with their mouths.

  The sudden stab of Donavan’s tongue inside her cunt drew a cry of arousal from Eve’s lips. Her sensitivity level skyrocketed and she could barely remain still any longer. She shifted her weight desperate to evade his hot, wet mouth but he gripped her wriggling hips and jerked her harder against his tongue.

  “Fuck,” Eve choked out, fisting her fingers in his hair. “Please,” she begged. “Please stop, I’m going to come.”

  That’s the idea, Donavan thought, taking one last lick of her sweet pussy. Her slippery flesh trembled under his tongue and her fingers clenched. The sharp sting of her gripping his hair made his cock violently pulse and he realized, she wasn’t the only one on the verge of coming.

  He inwardly laughed at himself. No woman had ever affected him this way. The taste of her, the sounds she made, and how her body reacted aroused him past the point of insanity.

  Get a grip, Carver. This could be your last night with her. Savor it.

  Oh yes, he would savor it. Down to the last millionth of a second.

  Out of breath, he climbed the length of her shuddering body. Although now he hovered above her, face to face, he refused to give her time to cool off. He carefully pressed his upper thigh against her soaked pussy. Conscious of the jagged edges on the jewels, he applied just enough pressure to keep her hips pinned to the table. Even in the dim lighting, the rosy hue of her cheeks burned brightly while heavy desire caused her eyes to drift open and closed. Beautiful. His vivid imagination couldn’t have constructed a more perfect portrait of vulnerability.

  “Donavan,” she whispered. “I’m on fire.”

  “Oh, I’m aware.” Her hot pussy seared like blistering coals against his leather sheathed thigh and even as he hovered above her, he could feel waves of heat drifting up from the bare skin of her throat. Oh yes. This is exactly how he needed her. Scorching.

  Giving in to primal urge, he dipped his head and sucked gently on her neck. Eve moaned and her body arched off the table, slamming into his. As she wriggled, her soft belly skimmed over his crotch and his cock jerked. He swore quietly against her throat. This woman could be the death of him, he thought, wincing through the agony of temporary abstinence. What was it going to take to have her fully submit to him?

  Resurfacing from the hollow of her throat, he fixated on her eyes. Her cheek rested against the smooth stone under her head and she was staring off into the distance. For a time, her expression of wonder captivated him. What in God’s name was she looking at?

  Craning his neck, he pin pointed the direction of her gaze. The moment he spotted what she was so engrossed with, a raw growl surfaced from his throat. The orgy. She was enthralled by it. Now that made him hotter than hell.

  He skimmed his lips along her cheek, setting his mouth lightly against her ear. “You want to be her,” he whispered, flicking his tongue along her earlobe. “You want to feel like she feels—dominated—an absolute lack of control.”

  Her breathing resonated in shallow and uneven gasps as she shivered beneath him.

  “Submit to me, Eve. You know what I want to hear.”

  She shuddered and turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were emerald pools of raw emotion.

  “Tell me what you want. Say it,” he quietly demanded.

  “I…I want you to dominate me.”

  He traced his mouth lightly over hers. It wasn’t enough. He needed to hear her submission.

  “Not good enough, Eve. Say it.”

  Her eyes locked on his and the intensity of her stare sucked the air from his lungs.

  “I want you to dominate me…Master.”

  Donavan crushed his mouth to hers as his cock gave a violent pulse. Such a simple word, he thought, running his tongue against hers. Yet the term possessed such power over him. Maybe her submission would only last the night. However, he planned on making it one hell of a
night.

  He shifted his weight off the table. His booted-feet hit the floor with a renewed sense of urgency. He continued ravishing her mouth as he swung her up into his arms, crushing her malleable body to his.

  “Where—where are we going?” She panted frantically against his mouth.

  “Not far,” he answered, the rasp in his throat notifying him that he was dangerously close to losing control. He navigated between tables, around naked lovers, even stepping over them on the way to his destination. The location he had in mind was near the north wall, semi-secluded, and close to where they entered earlier.

  He set her down and gripped a handful of her riotous red curls.

  “Kneel.”

  There was no indecision or hesitation in her eyes. Keeping her gaze locked on him, Eve dropped onto her knees in front of him and put her arms behind her back.

  Oh yes, she was pure sub all right. The inside of her thighs aligned with his feet while she arched her back, giving him a welcoming view of her supple breasts. Her stance was perfect even without his direction.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered, then took a few strides toward one of the billowing sheets. He reached behind it, trailing his fingers along the rough bricks in search of a switch. He knew all of Eden’s dirty little secrets. Locating a hidden panel, he slammed his palm against it and immediately triggered a thick chain to descend from the ceiling. Attached to the end was his favorite accessory.

  The sound of clattering chain drew Eve’s gaze upward. Her lips parted and a barely audible sigh escaped. The anxious reflection in her eyes pleased him. Anxiety heightened awareness. Awareness triggered sharper senses.

  Donavan reached for the black leather arm binder attached to the end of the chain and eased it down until he had the slack needed. The V of leather would sheath her arms all the way up to just below her shoulders. When the chain went taut, it would semi-suspend her so she could stay balanced on her knees as if on all fours but it would prevent her from falling forward with the absence of her hands to brace her. The positioning was perfect for what he had in mind.