“Trust me; you need these other things, too.” He paused and tapped his chin. “Or, maybe it’s that I need to torture you with these other things. I can never quite remember.”
Her eyes widened as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the nipple clamps he’d ordered for her and dangled them in front of her. “I remember how much you liked that one pair we somehow managed to lose…so I got you a new set.” Pale, glittering, green stones hung from them.
She swallowed hard. “And you think I’m going to survive eating a meal with those things on?”
“Oh, I know you will.” He shrugged. “You’ll be imagining my mouth on you the whole time, but you’ll survive. Besides, you need to keep your strength up. I don’t plan to let you sleep for a long time.”
He stifled his smile and unhooked her bra, taking it off her. “You won’t be needing this.”
“But…”
“Think how amazing your shirt will feel rubbing against your clamped nipples. You might come before we get inside the restaurant.”
Her needy whimper stroked every nerve ending he had. Bending, he sucked an impossibly hard bud into his mouth, teasing her crinkled flesh with his tongue before attaching the clamp. Her breath left her body on a whoosh. He repeated the action on the other side then helped her get her top on. Stepping back he studied her. Her nipples were enticingly obvious, but the clamps weren’t visible.
Dropping to his knees, he dragged off her now sodden panties.
“Rory…?”
“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” He pulled the last clamp out of his pocket. It was a slightly different shape, but the dangling green stones matched the ones on her nipples. He trailed the metal over the inside of her thighs, loving the way she trembled. Hell, he loved every last thing about her.
Spreading her lips, he affixed the clamp to her clit, as she groaned. “Just think about how those little dangly bits are going to feel while you’re walking. Forget the restaurant, you might even come before we make it out of the building.” Leaning forward, he let his tongue dance over that already swollen bundle of nerves, while she gripped his hair and tried to hold him in place.
He pulled away and helped her back into her skirt, and when she reached for her underwear, he said, “Leave them.” He laced their fingers together and led her from the room.
“You’re going to kill me.”
“No.” He grinned at her. “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life—exactly the way you like best.”
Enjoy an excerpt from the next Bound book
The Professor’s Student
by
Bronwyn Green
Six weeks in Ireland on a Bronze Age archeological dig is exactly what Josie Cooper needs. She loves teaching, but fieldwork is where her heart is, and working with Professor Declan O’Shaghnessy is a dream come true...until she meets the man. Declan is brilliant, gorgeous, and unapologetically arrogant. By the end of the first week, Josie is ready to push him into the Atlantic. Unfortunately, annoyance doesn’t stop her physical reaction to him. Nor does it stop the way every accidental touch between them makes her crave more. More of his hands on her skin. More of his lilting voice in her ear.
Knowing Josephine Cooper’s reputation in the archeology world, Declan was thrilled that she’d accepted his invitation to work the dig. However, he hadn’t counted on his overwhelming attraction to the American professor. Though he tries to maintain his distance and keep things professional between them, that plan goes to hell when he learns that Josephine returns his interest. And when an opportunity to act on that attraction, as well as explore her submission, presents itself, he jumps at it—taking complete control.
For the next five weeks, Josie agrees to submit to Declan. His instruction awakens needs she didn’t know she possessed, and she learns more about desire and herself than she would have thought possible. But what happens when their time is over, and Josie has to give up being his student to go back to being the professor again?
* * * *
Josie stared down at the little bits of metal in her palm and fought to keep from hyperventilating. Declan wanted her to put these little torture devices on her nipples. And wander around this pub without a bra.
“The loo is right back there,” he pointed out helpfully, a wicked smile curving his lips and excitement brightening his seawater colored eyes.
“Okay.” She sighed.
“Okay…?” He was clearly waiting for something.
It clicked. “Okay, Professor.” She felt a little silly saying it, but a perverse thrill also shot through her veins as she did.
He nodded his approval, and she pushed her chair away from the table and walked back to the bathroom on trembling legs. She was really doing this. She was going to submit to Declan. She was going to let him do god knew what kinds of kinky things to her. And it was starting right now.
Technically, she supposed it had started yesterday when she’d followed his directive not to masturbate. But now…now it was far more real. And more than a little scary. But for some reason she trusted him. And she knew that if she said her safeword, he’d stop.
Once inside the tiny, but surprisingly bright, bathroom, she ducked into an open stall and locked the door behind her. Pulling off her t-shirt and bra, she hung them on a hook. Then she removed the clamp from the tip of her finger and nearly groaned as the blood rushed back to fill the neglected area. She glanced down at her chest, where her already hard nipples stood out in tight little buds—needy and aching.
Plucking and twisting one of them, she hardened it further before sliding the bars around the distended flesh and tightening the pins. Her breath caught at the squeezing sensation, and she cranked the screws a little more. Before she could chicken out, she repeated the action on the other side, clamping the tender tip between the skin-warmed pieces of metal until it matched the tight grip on the other side.
Breathing deeply, she slumped against the wall, the steel cold against her back, and tried to calm her body’s rioting responses. Her nipples throbbed, but the pain only ramped her desire for Declan higher. And her pussy flooded with moisture. If she’d been wearing panties, they’d be completely drenched. She was sure of it.
She wrapped her fingers around her shirt, but let go just as quickly. She had to know what it felt like. Declan said she couldn’t make herself come. He hadn’t said anything about touching herself while attaching the clamps. After all, she reasoned, she needed to make sure they were secure. That they wouldn’t fall off when she put her shirt back on. Holding her breath, she brushed her fingertips over her aching flesh and nearly groaned. They were more sensitive than they’d ever been. It was as if all her nerve endings were on high alert, and they were all focused on her nipples. She couldn’t help herself, she did it again. And again. Each brush of her fingertips created an answer tug in her cunt. She pinched the throbbing tips and her pussy clenched tight. She had to force herself to stop, or she was going orgasm right there in that tiny bathroom.
She yanked her shirt off the hook and over her head, her breath hissing out when the fabric coasted over her swollen nipples. The normally soft cotton felt like it was scraping against her skin. Balling up her bra in her hand because she hadn’t thought to bring her purse into the bathroom with her, she stepped out of the stall and surveyed herself in the mirror.
Her nipples thrust noticeably against the knit fabric of her white, scoop-neck t-shirt. She yanked the fabric flush against her torso. The clamps were apparent when she did that, but they were pretty much undetectable when her top hung normally. It was painfully clear that she was aroused, but at least her reward wasn’t visible. She tugged her shirt down a little farther, exposing more of her cleavage. If the professor wanted to play, she’d give as good as she got.
Holding her head high, and thrusting out her chest a little more than was strictly necessary, she walked slowly back to their table. She kept her gaze on Declan and ignored both the subtle and obvious stares as she made
her way through the crowd gathered near the bar.
As she sat down and shoved her bra into her purse, Declan’s eyes dropped to her chest then slowly climbed back up to hers. “I was beginning to think I should send in a search party after you.” His voice was suddenly rough with what she assumed was arousal. “Did you have any trouble?”
She held his gaze, but it was impossible to hide her smile, the pleasure she felt at toying with him. “Define trouble.”
He sat back and raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Walk me through it.”
Leaning forward, she hissed as her nipples skimmed the tabletop. “I went into a stall, took off my shirt and bra, then I attached my reward.”
“And that’s it?”
“Well, I had to make sure they weren’t going to fall off,” she murmured, lowering her eyes and staring up at him through her lashes wondering if she’d earned herself a mysterious punishment.
“And how did you do that?”
“I brushed my fingers across my nipples a few times. I didn’t want to risk losing them.”
“So you were playing with your nipples?”
She nodded, stomach tightening nervously.
He leaned forward and drew a finger down along her breastbone. “And how did it feel?”
Her eyes closed at his roughly muttered question.
“So good,” she whispered. But to her ears, it sounded like more of a groan.
“Show me.”
Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him. “What?”
“I said, show me.”
“In here?”
He shrugged as if unconcerned.
“I can’t do that now. There are people everywhere.”
“So you’re ready to safeword, then?”
She knew a challenge when she heard one, and this one was unmistakable. “No.”
“No…?”
“No, Professor,” she murmured. Glancing around, she realized that only one person was paying them any attention at all—just the bartender. And when would she ever see him again? Ignoring the man as best she could, she sat back in her chair and slowly skimmed her hands over her stomach, letting her fingers drift upward over the lower swell of her breasts until she reached her nipples. She brushed her fingertips over them a few times before pinching firmly, sucking in a harsh breath between her clenched teeth.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Declan breathed almost reverently. Or maybe it was irreverently given the reason for his declaration.
Enjoy an excerpt from Bound book
London Bound
by
Jessica Jarman
After losing her husband six years ago, Meg Stevens has focused on the day-to-day and being a mother, not sparing a thought for anything beyond—no dates, no excitement, no life other than what she already had. A six-week vacation to London, all but forced on her by her two children, changes all of that. Meg meets the man of her dreams—gorgeous, dominant, and completely on board with a short-term fling—despite the fact he’s far too young for her.
Nathan Harris is more than a bit curious about the beautiful woman renting the upstairs flat, and once he talks to her, curiosity is quickly replaced by arousal and desire. It doesn’t take long before it’s clear she longs to experience sexual submission, and Nathan finds himself desperate to be the one she submits to.
Her days spent exploring the city, her nights exploring Nathan and the pleasure submitting to him brings, Meg discovers the trip she’d taken out of obligation has turned into something she doesn’t want to walk away from. However, the life she left behind beckons, and there’s no room there for dreaming of something she can never have.
* * * *
A shiver skated down Meg’s spine, anticipation burrowing in her stomach as Nathan’s breath whispered over her lips. Her eyes nearly rolled back at the delicious pressure of his fingers on her neck as he held her firmly.
Then, he took her mouth, and there was no nearly about it—her eyes rolled right back. So much pleasure from a simple touch, a kiss. She should have known, though. The fleeting touches in the pub had been enough to make her yearn, to want more than she had in such a long time.
“So deep in thought,” he murmured, nipping at her lower lip then sucking on it slowly. “Where are you, right now, love?”
Hands on his chest, she fisted the soft material of the blue sweater he wore. “I’m here with you. If you want me to be.”
“Oh, I want.” His hand dropped from her elbow to palm her ass. “Come inside with me.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers with a low groan. After a deep inhale, he straightened and, eyes locked on hers, reached behind to push the door to his apartment open. Hands firm on her ass and neck, he walked backwards, pulling her inside slowly. He was giving her an opportunity to change her mind, she realized. While she appreciated the gesture—really, really she did—she didn’t want slow, she didn’t want questions, and she didn’t want to stop what she’d started or begin to doubt a decision she’d had a hell of a time making in the first place. What she did want? More of his mouth and hands on her. The chance to touch and explore the hard edges of the body she’d seen earlier that day. To feel him against her, surrounding her, and God, inside her. Her pussy clenched, empty and aching, at the thought.
He let go of her ass to push the door shut, but his grip on her neck remained, like a brand, and she couldn’t deny that she loved it. The weight, the press of his fingers awakened things inside her she’d thought gone and buried long ago.
Nathan wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her forward. His fingers shifted slightly, tangled in her hair. She whimpered, relishing the sharp sting as he pulled her head back roughly.
The hard length of his cock pressed against her belly, and she cursed the layers between them. Even though her coat was open and it was just their clothing, it was too much separating them and she longed to tear the material away, feel him skin to skin.
Bending forward, he settled his lips over her pulse and sucked. With a gasp, she slid her hands up to cradle his head. The soft hair tickled her palms, and the sensation, paired with the pull of his mouth and the smooth glide of his tongue, had her arching toward him, desperate for more.
Clit pulsing, she shuffled to press her thighs together. A whine lodged in her throat when Nathan shoved a knee between hers, preventing her from finding any sort of relief—however small and inadequate it would have been.
His forearm slid over the curve of her ass, and he grasped the hem of her skirt. As he pulled the garment up, she held her breath but let it out in a whoosh when he traced the edge of her panties.
He lifted his head and met her gaze. The vibrant blue of his eyes was nearly eclipsed by the dilated pupils. His grip tightened on her neck, just a moment, before he moved both hands to her hips and pushed her until her back hit the door. She didn’t have time to react or mourn the loss of his touch because he was right there. Pressed against her, roughly pulling her skirt around her waist. He cupped her mound, his warmth seeping through the thin cotton and melding with the heat she radiated.
“Bed?” She could only manage the one word, so lost in what he was doing, what was to come.
“Eventually.” He chuckled, a dark, decadent sound that smoothed over her, sending her even deeper under his spell. “First, though…”
Pulling her panties to the side, he trailed his fingers along her slick folds, slipping easily through her desire. Meg tried to cant her hips forward but his other hand still held her fast. It wasn’t enough; she needed…she needed…
“Shh.” He nosed her hair aside and kissed her damp forehead. “Patience, love. We’ll get there. You’ll get there. I promise.”
He teased and played around her clit, never grazing the thrumming bud. One touch, one firm press, and she’d go off, she was sure of it.
He ran his lips down along her jaw, pressing soft kisses into her
skin, until his breath swept over her ear. “I’ll take you to bed, Meg, but first, I want you to come. I want you, against this door, fully fucking clothed, to cream all over my hand. I want to be drenched with it.”
“Oh, fuck me,” she said, head thumping back against the hard wood. God, his voice, his words, were almost enough to push her over.
“Eventually,” he said again, tongue flicking over her lobe. “But, after you come, I’m going to want to taste. I bet you taste so fucking sweet. I’m going to eat it all up, and I think…I think I’ll need you to come again.” He dipped a finger into her dripping pussy, pulling out more wetness to spread over her swollen lips. “Oh, yeah, I’ll need to feel you come apart on my tongue, against my mouth.”
Meg’s legs shook as hot desire coiled deep in her belly, and she fought to stay upright. She clenched her hands in his hair, holding on—wanting so badly to fall into the promised release but at the same time fearing the intensity of it all. Already, it was more than she could have imagined, and it was just beginning.
“Maybe then, after you grind yourself against my face, frantic and wild to get off any way you can, I’ll make my way up and kiss your sexy mouth.” He pumped the long digit inside her channel, and the soppy, wet sound of him fingerfucking her brought heat to her cheeks but also ratcheted her arousal up even further. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Tasting yourself on my lips as I slide balls deep into your needy cunt.”
Groaning, Meg tried again to move her hips, to fuck his long fingers, to chase the orgasm that was tauntingly beyond her reach. Nathan’s grip firmed on her hip, and a drawn out moan fell from her lips. She repeated the action, just to feel his fingers dig into her flesh hard and punishingly. Perversely, she hoped bruises formed, wanting that tangible reminder for later.
“And then, I’ll fuck you.”
Bronwyn Green is an author, blogger and compulsive crafter. She lives Michigan with her husband, two kids and three somewhat psychotic cats. When not frantically writing, she can be found helping in her youngest child’s classroom or binge-watching Netflix while working on her latest craft project. Bronwyn loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.bronwyngreen.com.
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