Bound

by Piper Malone

  “There are no ideas happening right now, doll,” he issues as if I wasn’t grappling with him. “It’s just you and me and easing into the day. Take a breath and relax for a few more minutes. I need to take advantage of enjoying the company of a beautiful woman before we walk back into the fire. Let me enjoy the feeling of you next to me.”

  His face is placid. The complete opposite of his arm banded around my back and fingers splayed against my hip. I’m bound to Blake with no means of escape. “Just breathe, Katya.”

  I’m not good at snuggling. I end up thinking about all the things I have to do or get annoyed with dude leg hair tickling me. It feels too much like a bug crawling on my skin to be sexy.

  Hoping it won’t last long, I give in and settle down in Blake’s embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest becomes a captivating sound that lulls me to a calm, almost meditative, place. My fingers skim the thick hair of his chest, the soft curls tickling my skin. Our legs tangle, my toes sliding along the bones of his ankle.

  It’s peaceful. Beautiful. Unlike any other lover I’ve had.

  He’s not my lover.

  I look up, unsure if he’s asleep again. “Blake,” I whisper, “should we get back to the hospital?”

  “Mmhmm,” he grumbles, but makes no movement.

  I wiggle in place, trying to loosen his hold, which doesn’t work. He’s like a seat belt that tightens with every movement. We can’t lay here all day. It will only lead to disastrous consequences.

  I already like how his body feels next to mine. How great would he feel over me? In me? I shiver, the curiosity squeezing my core in a vise. This has to stop. I’m here for Reagan, not to get off with my chauffeur.

  The decision is quick. There’s only one way to deal with a seat belt that won’t let you breathe—unhook it. I reach down to the space where his thighs connect and, with a swift grip, take his most preciously manly assets into my control.

  Blake’s eyes fly open, his back bowing slightly from the pressure. After a brief moment, he seems to adjust, inhaling deeply as his eyes slide shut. Blake’s throat bobs under a deep swallow. He pulls his hands up to rest on the pillow, releasing me from his hold.

  The instant he isn’t touching me, I feel the chill of the air in the room lick my exposed skin. My flesh prickles with goose bumps, cursing the desire to return to his embrace.

  Blake issues a quick glance at my grip on his sac before leveling a naughty smirk. “This isn’t how I typically play, but I’m open to new experiences.”

  His words render me speechless. I literally have this guy by the balls and he’s proposing sex?

  It’s official, Blake Roman is insane.

  “No way, stud,” I sneer. “I don’t play because this isn’t a game.” Intent on making my point clear, I tighten the hold on his precious jewels. When I hear Blake’s sharp inhale, I know the perfect amount of pressure has been exerted and my work is done.

  I scramble off the bed, grateful for my wobbly knees holding me until I get to the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and start the rote tasks of washing my face and brushing my teeth.

  Hopefully, I can wash away the memory of Blake’s stunning erection peeking out the waistband of his briefs.

  I feel like it takes me an eternity to get ready, but I need time to think. Blake is a challenge, desirable, and clearly interested in me.

  The cuddling was oddly wonderful. The fact that I had his nuts in my hand didn’t mean anything to him. At least not on the surface. I’ve threatened balls before and had guys screaming like little girls.

  He is a little pushy. I’m sure he could be arrogant if he really wanted to be. I can’t picture him being a douche bag.

  Guys don’t typically hold random crying women, especially without some form of relationship established. Hell, I’ve cried in front of my father and only earned a hearty pat on the shoulder.

  I thought for sure he would have pulled a move as soon as he got in bed with me. Blake respected my established limit and kept his hands to himself.

  I was the one curled around him. He received me in the middle of the night and didn’t press for anything more.

  The attraction is obvious. Clearly, I’m not doing a good job keeping my distance.

  To his credit, Blake is hot. Every inch of him screams sex.

  What’s the harm in a little fun? I think we could both use a little break from reality.

  I dig through my bag and pull out the skirt I packed with the hope I could have gotten Reagan out of the hospital and into a bar. We have always tried to get through rough times with a night of drinks and talking. My plan to extract her from this mess was woefully misinformed. I didn’t know her situation was this dire. I can’t even suggest she leave for any significant amount of time.

  Blake and I might not be gone for long either.

  I pull the perfect scrap of fabric over my hips and feel all my good judgment go down the toilet.

  Blake

  The instant she left the bathroom with that ridiculous micromini on, I knew she was naked underneath.

  It was only right for me to leave my boxer briefs in the hotel room, too.

  Now, sitting across from me in the waiting room, my suspicions are correct. She’s only flashed me once, but every five minutes, like clockwork for the past half hour, she’s crossed and uncrossed her legs.

  You naughty, perfect vixen.

  Nick passes a glance between us, unable to see the show from his seat. “What’s going on, guys?” he asks. “Has anyone seen Reagan?”

  Kat and I look around the room, before sending each other an embarrassed look.

  “I’ll go look for her,” Kat offers, sliding off the couch and walking out of the waiting room.

  I count to fifteen before I stand up and make my way for the door. “I’ll help her look for Reagan,” I toss over my shoulder. “Text me if she shows up.”

  “How about you text me when you’re done helping Kat off your cock,” he deadpans, not bothering to look at me.

  On any other day, I’d spar with him. Right now, I’m too interested in Kat. “Yup. Will do,” I shoot back at him before he has the chance to launch an insult.

  I don’t think she would have gone to the populated parts of the hospital. She seems like she might have some exhibitionist flair to her, which I will happily explore with her but given the circumstance, we need to be as covert as possible.

  Coming around one of the corners, I see her lingering near the stairwell doors. She sees me, and casually bends over giving me a perfect view of her beautiful backside and the precious space between her creamy thighs.

  Without looking back, she straightens herself and pushes through the door. I hear her hit the stairs with rapid footsteps and the race is on.

  Kat glances behind her, squealing when she sees me closing in on her. Half a flight of stairs later, I wrap an arm around her waist, the other, scooping her legs up so I can carry her up the remaining steps. She laughs, a little out of breath but totally into the game.

  “Ah,” I say, “now it seems that I’ve gotten what I want.”

  Kat runs her fingers through my hair. “I think you caught me because that’s what I wanted. I could have escaped.”

  “Maybe.” I’ll give her the illusion of being able to overpower me for now. “But in this tryst, I have what I came for and now you’re mine to plunder.”

  Her body is so small; I can easily curl my arms and bring her flush against me. I only need to tilt my head to the left the instant Kat’s pelvis is close enough to nuzzle. She squeals, my nose pressing into the thin fabric of her skirt. Her body quakes, a stifled groan falling from lips when I bump something hard between her legs.

  It can’t be true…

  “Are you pierced, Kat?”

  She bites her bottom lip, a radiant smile showing off her perfect teeth. “Yes.”

  Katya Boytosv is a dream come true. “I need to see it,” I say, setting her down on the windowsill illuminating the stairwell with na
tural light. Once she’s seated, Kat inches up the skirt, giving me a look at the red jewel decorating the top of her clit hood.

  “How long have you had it?” I ask, pushing her knees apart, watching the little gem sparkle in the sunlight.

  “About three years,” she says. “I’m glad you like it. Most guys think I’m kind of a freak.”

  “Those guys are idiots,” I grumble, leaning in to get a closer look. “Are your nipples done?”

  She shudders when my fingers brush the piercing, the perfume of her arousal blooming around me. “No.” She shifts in her seat. “I’ve always thought about it.”

  Her words unleash the beast in me. Perfect. Beautiful. Pierced. Mine.

  My mouth falls over her pussy, devouring every inch of her body. Kat squirms. Her moans echoing in the cavernous space.

  “Blake,” she squeals. “Holy shit…”

  My tongue plays over her clit, teeth tugging on the toy decorating her delicate flesh for fun. When my two fingers breach her trembling pussy, I know everything I need. “Give it to me, doll.” The command pushes my breath over her sensitive skin.

  Kat’s walls clench around my fingers, her legs bucking under the wave of her powerful orgasm. The bright sunlight filtering through her blonde hair gives her an ethereal look, an angel succumbing to the pleasures of the body.

  She leans back, breath chugging, and a punch-drunk smile on her face. “That was awesome.”

  “If you think we’re done—” My response is cut short by the sound of metal doors below pushing open.

  I pull her off the sill, a conversation wafting through the stairwell forcing us to move from our place and find cover on one of the wings.

  With her hand in mine, I jiggle every doorknob on the hall before, thankfully, one opens. We spill into the darkened room and I lock the bolt behind us.

  I stay close to the door, listening for any indication that our location is known. If there was a report that two people were getting it on in public, security might be looking for us. The sound of footsteps passes by the door. Thankfully, they don’t pause and eventually disappear.

  It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. While I’d like to turn on the overhead light, I don’t want to risk being found. There is still time to enjoy Katya before we have to go back.

  She must be on the same wavelength. Kat steps away from the far wall, her arms wrapping around my neck without hesitation. Our lips find each other, tongues tangling.

  In the narrow room, I take a single step and she’s pressed against the wall. Curling my hips into her, I get a needy sigh that sends more life-giving blood to my cock.

  “Holy shit, doll,” I grumble, digging in my back pocket. “You’ve wrecked me. I can’t hold out anymore.” When she emerged from the hotel bathroom wearing that poor excuse for a skirt, I knew I had to be prepared. “Open it,” I issue, as I hand her the condom I shoved in my back pocket before we left.

  Her nimble fingers shred the foil as I pull her skirt up to her waist. Kat holds the condom like a trophy she’s waiting bestow upon a champion.

  I unzip my jeans and feel the relief of freeing my dick from the cage it’s been living in for hours.

  “Put it on me,” I grind out, nodding to the condom.

  The feel of her touch on my skin is enough to make me explode. Her soft hands unroll the latex to the root, taking a moment to gently caress my balls. The fear that she’s going to grip me up again flees as her fingers dance along my sac.

  I can only enjoy the sensation until the tingling starts to build in my spine, threatening to end our time.

  “Doll, can you put your arms around my neck?” She complies with a giddy bounce, before pressing kisses to my neck and earlobe.

  Yup. She’s going to kill me.

  “I need you to trust me and hang on, okay.”

  “Sure thing, stud.” She giggles into my ear. “Do your worst.”

  My worst is my best and my best would normally leave her boneless for days. In this scenario, I’ll have to make do with what I’ve got.

  I pull her body against mine, lifting her to allow her legs to open around me. When I feel her thighs on either side of my hips, I scoop one of her legs in each arm. She’s spread wide, my cock bumping up against her beautifully splayed pussy.

  “Whoa! That’s some skill, stud. Are you going to give me that or tease me with it?” From her position, she wiggles her hips, her pussy kissing my electrified skin.

  “Kat, has anyone ever told you how perfect you are?” The words are ground out, my dick probing to find its rightful home in Kat’s body.

  She tenses in my arms until I slide into her tight channel. She moans, her teeth sinking into my neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

  My eyes roll back, knees buckle under the sensation. I stumble, kicking over a bucket or something in the dark.

  “Holy shit. Hold on,” I grate, trying hard to keep us connected and upright. To my utter amazement, she doesn’t let go. Kat laughs and enjoys the ride.

  Her giggles end when I press her back against the wall, seating myself firmly in her body. Kat exhales, a rush of breath that betrays her arousal.

  My mouth captures hers as I start a rhythmic pace. Next time, we can explore and taste each other. Next time we won’t be relegated to a janitor’s closet.

  Until next time, I need to make sure she remembers who had her. My greedy mouth sucks and nibbles a trail down her neck, finding a soft spot to mark as my own. Kat bucks as the pressure of my teeth press into her and immediately counters with a bite of her own.

  It’s not smooth, but it’s quick and dirty and more fun than I’ve had in the past few weeks. I feel her pussy flutter under the force of my thrusts and shift to nudge her jeweled clit. “Let go, doll. I want this.”

  Unable to hold out any longer, I pound into her with a relentless drive. Kat’s strangled cry breaks the silence, “Yes! Oh god…”

  Her words, the pressure of her body milking my cock sends me over the edge. “Fuck! Yes!”

  The release leaves us breathless, panting in the dark. With Kat still in my arms, we share a moment of silent, passionate kisses. Her fingers play along the edges of my hair as her lips gently caress mine.

  “I think we need to get back to the waiting room,” she whispers between kisses.

  “Do we? What if we just stay here?” I don’t want to let her go yet. It’s the same feeling we shared in bed this morning. Rightness.

  “I think the janitor might find us,” she says, shifting her hips a little. She contracts the muscles of her vagina, giving me a little squeeze, kick starting my dick to life.

  “Careful what you wish for, doll.”

  “Sorry, it’s a fun trick,” she snickers. “Okay, for real. We need to get out of here.”

  She’s right. It sucks, but she’s right. I put her down, remove the condom, and tie it off. Thankfully, there’s a garbage can in the janitor’s closet so I don’t have to walk about with a used rubber in my pocket. Kat fixes her blouse and straightens her skirt before opening the door and sneaking out.

  I tuck myself back in my pants and run a quick hand through my hair.

  In the hallway, Kat is checking her face in the reflection of a glass case on the wall. On any other day, I’d tell her to stop. I like that she’s a little mussed from our time together, but I understand her desire to make things look status quo.

  “Hey.” I wrap my arms around her, giving her a quick nip on the neck. She squeals, playfully slapping my hand. “You’re perfect, doll.”

  She shoots me a sideways glance that makes me think she wants to argue with the statement, but she just weaves her fingers through mine and allows me to pull her toward the elevator.

  The greedy son of a bitch that I am doesn’t want this to end. I tug her close and press my lips against hers. The powerful sensation of Kat’s body fitting perfectly against mine fills me with a primal instinct. I found the woman who was made for me.

  Chapt
er 3

  Kat

  Present Day

  I know Reagan saw the kiss he laid on me in the courtyard. Her I-know-what-you-did look said it all. Thankfully, she hasn’t been able to grill me because we were shuffled from the church to the reception hall under the threat of running late. I’m grateful for the hustle. I don’t have the words to explain what happened.

  Blake Roman is hot. Has been since the day I met him and, today, that hunky tux he’s wearing isn’t helping. He’s sexy, loyal, and funny as hell. He won serious points in my book when he brought me to be with Reagan. Our time in the janitor’s closet is a cherished memory.

  A man who possesses a brain, emotional stability when his best friend is breathing via a machine, and the ability to make this girl fall to multiple orgasms is a winner in my book. I’ve tried to reconcile my fears about what I know of him. I’m all about having fun in the bedroom, but when I know his kink involves tying me up, that’s my cue to walk away. Blake is a fantasy and his very real needs and desires evoke memories from my past. I won’t go back there. I can’t.

  No judgment on his kink but I’m a mutual give-and-take kind of player. I’ll suck my lover off like a champ; in return, he should paint my pink parts with his tongue. I don’t mind the down and dirty, limit-pushing, quickie-in-the-car fun. It’s a good time. Being tied up, tied down, restrained, makes me uneasy. In my mind, cuffing and stuffing is what happens after you’ve been arrested and the cops are putting your ass in the back of a cruiser, not a Saturday night hookup.

  At the reception hall, he took my hand, our fingers entwined as we were introduced. Blake’s warm grip pulsed against mine, infusing my hand with tingles that made it difficult to keep my cool. I tried to ignore the sensation and stay focused on the wedding, but it was useless. For a brief second, I leaned into him allowing myself to soak up the warmth of his body. It felt so good to be close to him again. When I realized I was mooning, fawning over a man who is off-limits, I righted myself, only to feel him tighten his grip and pull me close again. He stopped me from keeping a safe distance.