Bound Temptations: Stories of Temptation and Submission

by Shiloh Walker

  She bit her lip, toyed with the belt. But before it even became an issue, the bell over the front door rang, and a minute later, a bunch of giggly young women flooded the back room as well.

  Drake moved to her side, slipping an arm around her waist. “Saved by the bell and the bride,” he teased, nodding toward the woman wearing a white T with a sash announcing I’m the Bride!

  Tania blushed furiously. Then, shifting her body, she reached for his free hand and guided it inside her coat. “You can still think about it,” she whispered, watching as his eyes widened, then narrowed.

  He palmed her breast, squeezing her nipple hard just the way she liked, watching as she gasped. Against her ear, he muttered, “Evil little bitch…”

  She laughed.

  As he pulled his hand back, they looked at the display in front. “What do you like?” he asked.

  She wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like shopping for this sort of thing with an audience, that was for sure. But she saw the brand of pocket rocket she’d always enjoyed and she pulled it down. He took it from her. “Anything else?”

  She blushed. “What exactly am I looking for?”

  “What you like,” he said patiently.

  Tania shrugged. “Why don’t you surprise me?”

  “You should be careful saying that in a place like this.” He grinned at her. Reaching out, he tapped one phallus-shaped object that was eighteen inches. “That sucker would surprise anybody, I bet.”

  “Yeah, anybody that isn’t a horse. And eeewww…no thanks.”

  He reached for another one, a more realistic, narrow six-and-half-inch plug with a flared base. She cocked a brow at him as he tucked it under his arm. He smiled and leaned in, murmured, “I told you I’ve been thinking about fucking your ass. It’s been a while for you. It seems that we might want to work up to it. That’s what we’re doing tonight.”

  Her knees went weak. Her belly clenched. She swallowed and looked up at him. Drake brushed her hair back from her face, tipped her chin back with his index finger. “You on board with that?”

  “With you? Oh, yeah.” She laughed shakily. “With you, I’m on board for just about anything.”

  He kissed her gently and she sighed as her heart turned over in her chest. He could make her feel like he’d just laid roses at her feet, and here she was in the middle of a sex shop. As he pulled away, she hummed under her breath and licked her lips. Spying the lubricant she’d always preferred, she grabbed it. Then she paused as she saw something else.

  The restraints were simple, the sort that hooked together rather than locked. Black, basic. The woman wearing them had the typical porn-star look on her face. Tania ignored that, focusing on the restraints. With a shaking hand, she reached out and grabbed them blindly. Whether she was up to using them yet or not, she didn’t know.

  But her mind wasn’t shutting down in black, blind terror, either.

  So it was an improvement.

  “Tawny?”

  She gave him what was probably an over-bright, desperate grin. “Let’s go,” she said, grabbing his arm and all but dragging him out of there.

  Tania groaned as she looked up from her bent position.

  Drake’s dresser was placed directly across from his bed, and from here, she could see herself. Still wearing her red leather coat, still neatly tied at her waist. Drake stood behind her, his hands on her hips, his eyes narrowed and intent on her face.

  “You like to watch?” he asked.

  She licked her lips, unable to look away. Yes. She did. But she didn’t answer.

  And when he reached down, fisted his hand in her hair and used it to pull her upright, it made her insides clench—that was exactly why she didn’t answer. She loved it when he did that. And judging by the faint way his mouth quirked up in a smile before he stopped, he knew it too. He knew how damn hot that made her.

  “Look at yourself,” Drake snarled in her ear, his voice low and harsh, just this side of cruel. He jerked at the tie on her coat, tore it open. His stubbled cheek scraped against hers as he muttered, “See? You see yourself? Hot, dirty little bitch. Damn it, it makes my dick hurt just to look at you.”

  She could feel him, feel how hard he was. And the look in his eyes—it wasn’t just lust. It was something else. Even as he reached down and plunged two fingers into her sex, hard and fast, almost brutal, there was a tenderness in his eyes—hell, he made her feel needed…wanted…

  “You want this?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Liar. Bend over.”

  She resisted a little and Drake met her eyes. “Tawny?”

  She smirked at him and shoved her butt backward. “Fucking pervert,” she muttered.

  His hand spread flat against her belly. His lips brushed over her shoulder, just once…lightly. Then he forced her over the bed. Her coat slid down a little, trapping her arms. Tania swallowed and closed her eyes.

  Then, as Drake pushed the coat upward, baring her butt, she forgot. He swatted her once. “I like your ass, bitch. Nice and tight, but still soft…a woman’s ass.”

  She squirmed as he plunged his fingers into her pussy, screwing them in, then out. Jerking against the coat, she struggled against it. It was almost enough—pinning her, but not quite…

  Drake reached up, caught the coat, drawing it away. “No…” she whispered.

  “Tania?”

  She gasped and twisted against him, lifting her hand and flexing it, uncertain how to ask for what she wanted, afraid to even ask for fear it would push her back.

  But he knew.

  Gently, Drake eased her body lower, then caught both of her wrists in one hand. She bit her lip, panted as he pinned them at the base of her spine. Then, as he started to finger-fuck her again, she sobbed out his name.

  He worked her to just this side of climax—and stopped.

  “Right there,” he muttered. “We stop right there.”

  She groaned as he let her hands go and pulled away. Shoving up right, she glared at him over her shoulder, only to cry out as he brought the flat of his hand down on her ass. “Back down,” he ordered.

  Immediately, she lowered herself back down, her heart racing, her sex throbbing.

  Less than a minute later, he returned and she saw what he had in the reflection. The roll of duct tape made her frown. “I want you using those fingers on your hot little pussy—can’t do that if you have your hands cuffed,” he said, giving her a cocky smile. But there was something else in his voice. She swallowed, uncertain if she was ready to be fully restrained anyway. When he caught her left hand and guided it back to the small of her back, she tensed.

  Drake immediately started to talk. “I’m going to slide that dildo in your back door in a few minutes, Tawny, you know that? It’s going to turn your pussy into a tight fist and I can’t wait. I want you to think about that, think about how tight you’ll be…”

  She whimpered, so focused on his voice, she barely blinked as he taped one wrist against the small of her back, effectively restraining her. She could pull free if she needed to, but just the sensation…

  “Tell me you don’t want it,” he said as he guided her back down, easing her torso down until her shoulders touched the bed.

  “I don’t.”

  He turned the pocket rocket on and put it in her free hand. “Tell me you’ll fight me, that you don’t want this…”

  “I don’t want it…” She gasped it out as she pressed the vibrator against her clit. Then, as he pressed lube-slicked fingers against her anus, she whimpered. “I don’t want it. Please don’t make me…”

  “You don’t want it, but you’re so fucking hot, so wet, and look at how you open for me when I push this inside,” he muttered. “Hot little slut, look at you. That’s it…take it. I’m going to push it all the way in, all the way in your hot, tight little hole.”

  And that’s what he did, one slow, teasing inch after the other. She was panting and sobbing when he was done. “You still want me to think you do
n’t want it?” he growled as he came up behind her. “Look in the mirror.”

  She lifted her head, aided by his hand fisted in her hair.

  “Tell me what you see,” he panted as he pressed the head of his cock against the swollen mouth of her pussy.

  “Me,” she panted.

  “And are you hot? Are you ripe for fucking?”

  “No.” As he started to push inside, she closed her thighs, tried to pull away. “Don’t do this to me, Drake. No…”

  He jerked her back, still using such infinite care as he fed her one slow inch—

  She cried out, shaking with need.

  “Don’t do it?” He spanked her.

  “No.” She clenched her legs tighter, shuddered as he continued his slow, forceful possession. “Please, Drake…don’t make me do this. Oh….” She rolled her hips against him, unable to stop herself. Not enough, though—still not enough.

  “Don’t do it? Why? Am I not fucking you right?” He caught one breast, tweaked her nipple.

  She groaned and pushed back, needing more. Needing more of him, needing it harder…faster. Then, taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and glared at him. “Do it harder—”

  Drake growled, one hand squeezing her rump. “You sure about that, Tawny?”

  “You always ask your fuck toys what they want? Make me take it, damn you.”

  He swore and slammed into her.

  She cried out and arched her back, jerking against his hands, against the tape that restrained her wrist. He did it again and she shuddered, writhed, clenching down with her internal muscles, fighting his invasion.

  “That’s it,” Drake muttered. “Oh, hell, Tawny, that feels so good…keep it tight.”

  She sobbed out his name, thrashed her head and jerked against his hands, losing herself.

  He hauled her back against him, muttered to her, “Mine, damn it. You’re mine right now, sweet little bitch. Say it.”

  Tania gasped for air, barely able to breathe.

  He brought the flat of his hand down on her ass and snarled, “Say it.”

  “I’m yours, Drake. Yours—oh, please…”

  “Please what? Please stop?”

  “No.” She gripped him harder with her pussy, milked him. “Please don’t…please don’t stop…”

  Behind her, he shuddered. He drilled into her harder, pressed his thumb against the base of the toy nestled snug in her ass. And then, just as the heat in her belly rose, as it started to consume her, she heard him say something…

  “Fuck, I love you…”

  Twenty minutes later, he lay curled around her, his eyes closed, his arm around her waist.

  She wasn’t asleep.

  Neither was he.

  Was she acting like she hadn’t heard?

  Drake didn’t know.

  He didn’t know where to go from here—he hadn’t meant to say it like that. Not yet. He knew she had feelings for him and he was even starting to maybe hope she could fall in love with him.

  “You’re thinking too loud,” Tania said on a sigh. She rolled over and stared at him, her eyes dark and sleepy, a somber smile curling her lips.

  He reached up, traced that smile with his fingertip. “I’m worried I freaked you out.”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t. I…well, I’m not sure how I feel yet. But I’m not freaked out. Actually…” The somber smile changed, took on a sweet, almost delighted look, and she eased in, pressed her lips to his. “The longer I think about it, the more it makes me want to giggle and laugh. I haven’t been prone to giggles for a long, long time…so that’s probably a really good sign. I just…need more time.”

  Combing a hand through her hair, he kissed her brow. “I’m good with that.”

  Then he pulled her close.

  She hadn’t taken off running.

  That was all he’d hoped for.

  But more…she seemed happy about it.

  That was even better, right?

  Chapter Seven

  “Do you think you can love two wonderful men in one lifetime?”

  The question had been lurking in the back of her mind for almost a month, but she hadn’t meant to ask it just then.

  Glancing up, she blushed as she found her best friend Becky gaping at her.

  “Are you seeing somebody?” Becky demanded.

  She winched. “Yeah.”

  “You tramp. I’m your best friend. Why haven’t I heard about this?” Becky asked.

  Tania rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Um. We’ve both been busy?”

  “Hello! Best friends. We’re never that busy.” Becky pouted for a minute. Then she leaned in and jabbed Tania with her elbow. “Okay. Give. Who?”

  Squirming on the barstool, she said, “Ah… Drake.”

  “Drake. As in your friend, Kyle’s friend… Drake? With those intense, broody blue eyes and that sexy little dimple and that too-fricking-beautiful hair and the goofy Superman tattoo? That Drake?”

  Tania winced again. “Yes. That Drake.” But she smiled as she thought about his tattoo. It wasn’t goofy. She thought it was sexy. He was her Superman, all right. In so many ways.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this?” Becky hissed, leaning in closer.

  “Well…”

  “How could he ask you out and you not think to tell me?”

  “Well, he didn’t exactly ask me out.” She lifted her hand and waved to the bartender, calling for another drink. She was going to need it. Becky knew Tania had…um…adventurous appetites in sex, but…yeah. She needed alcohol for this discussion. “I kind of asked him out, at first. But it was just supposed to be um…”

  The bartender set the drink down in front of her and Tania waited until he walked off.

  It was early and still relatively quiet. Glancing around, she shifted on the seat, turning around to look at Becky. Keeping her voice low, she said, “I’m tired of waiting for things from well…before to fade. They aren’t fading. I feel stuck. I asked Drake if he’d help me get unstuck. It was just supposed to be about sex…but…”

  Becky’s eyes narrowed. A smile curled her lips. “Oh, honey…do tell.”

  When Tania called him earlier that day and said they’d have to meet a few hours later, he’d been disappointed. But then he’d had a call of his own—a call from Gail Sinclair—and now instead of taking Tania out, he was sitting in Gail’s house.

  Maybe he should just cancel the fucking date—not because he was mad at Tania, but because he didn’t want to spill the toxic waste inside of him onto her. Of course, he wasn’t even sure he could speak without exploding.

  Staring at Gail’s pinched, pallid face, he said, “You want to run that by me again?”

  “You can’t keep seeing her. If you do, she’ll ruin your life. The way she ruined Kent’s. The way she ruined Kyle’s,” Gail said, her voice prim, almost prissy.

  There was grief in her eyes, though, and he was trying to remind himself this woman had lost both her boys. She’d known loss and it did bad things to a person’s mind.

  “Kyle was killed in a freak accident,” he said as gently as he could. “Tania had nothing to do with it.”

  “Bullshit,” Gail spat, the word falling from her lips thick and heavy with venom. “She poisoned him until he couldn’t think clearly—if he’d been the way he used to be before she got to him, he never would have been so careless.”

  “Poisoned?” He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  She sighed. “You refuse to see it. Even though she’s doing the same to you.” Rising, she gestured to him. “Come on. Maybe once you see it how I’ve seen it, you’ll understand.”

  Suddenly, foreboding rose inside him.

  He trailed her through the grim, quiet house, trying to remember if it had been this grim and quiet when they’d been kids. Then he frowned—thought harder. How often had he even really come inside this place? He’d preferred for Kyle to come over to his place. The few times he’d been over to the Sinclairs’, it
hadn’t been for long, and Kyle had seemed to enjoy it more if he was elsewhere, too, really.

  It was like this house hadn’t known happiness, laughter, light in a long, long time.

  Not just a few years, either.

  Longer.

  The darkness, heaviness weighed down on him as he followed Gail up the steps, down the hallway. When they stopped in front of Kent’s room, he stiffened. “What—”

  But she acted like she didn’t hear him, pushing the door open.

  The first glimpse inside was a sucker punch, a shock.

  Time warp.

  It looked the same as it had years ago—how many? Ten, fifteen?

  A shiver raced down his spine as Gail looked back at him, that strange light glinting in her eyes. “You should pack his stuff up, Gail. It can’t be good for you to hold on to everything like this,” he said softly.

  “No. I keep everything.” She moved inside, beckoning for him to follow. She passed by the bed, made with military precision, bypassed the computer, TV…and stopped in front of the closet.

  She gave him a sad, somber look. “I tried to tell you the easy way.”

  Then, without saying anything else, she opened the door, moved into that dark space.

  A second later, a light flashed on.

  Drake’s first thought was that somebody had given up using this space as a closet and turned it into a mini-entertainment/electronics center. The large computer monitor was asleep, perched a narrow desk that barely fit into the space. Gail touched the mouse, wiggled it, and the computer woke up.

  At first, he couldn’t make his brain accept what his eyes were seeing. His mind just didn’t want to process it. On stiff, uncooperative legs, he took a step closer, staring at Tania’s face. There was no mistaking her face, even though he could only see her profile. She was giving somebody a blowjob, and Drake had to assume it was Kyle, although he couldn’t see much of the guy—the picture had been zoomed in to focus on her face and upper body. Her shoulders were arched back in a pose he recognized—she was probably restrained.