Rewritten (The Bound Series Book 7)

by Bronwyn Green

  “Look how fucking gorgeous you are, little bird.”

  Eliza stared at the woman in the mirror. She was panting, her chest heaving. Her skin was sweat-slick, covered with lash marks and candle wax. And her desperation was unmistakable with her thighs spread wide as they were.

  “Look how wet your cunt is.”

  His eyes were clearly drawn to the same spot.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re just dripping, aren’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “I can see it. Smell it.” He nuzzled her ear. “I can still taste you on my tongue.” His hands crept up her sides until they were trailing over her breasts, gently cupping and squeezing them.

  She moaned, trying to push herself more fully into his hands, heedless of the bits of color that flaked from her skin. He released her breasts to trail his fingertips over her wax-covered nipples. They were still so incredibly sensitive, even hidden beneath the paraffin, that she couldn’t help but beg for more of his touch.

  Using his thumb, he gently pried up the coating from her skin. How something could feel so awful and yet so good at the same time, she’d never know. Or maybe it was just that awful things felt good to her. And what was wrong with her that pain was what she craved so desperately? For a moment, it was as if she could hear Nigel’s voice in her head

  “Check in, Eliza. Where are you?” Angus seemed to know the second he’d lost her.

  Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, she pushed her former lover’s voice from her head. He wasn’t welcome now. Or ever again.

  “Eliza?”

  “I’m here.” She turned her head to meet Angus’ gaze. “I got lost for a minute, but I’m back.”

  He reached up to untie her wrist.

  “No, please, Sir. I’m back.”

  He studied her face, peering at her as if he could see inside her head, see everything that tormented her.

  She turned her head to face him fully then rested her forehead against his. “I’m here with you. And...it’s the only place I want to be.”

  “This isn’t too much?”

  She glanced down at his still-hard cock then back to his eyes. “It’s not enough.”

  He fisted his hand in her hair at the nape of her neck. “There’s only room here for you and me.”

  She nodded, shivering at the way her hair tugged against his hold as he captured her mouth in a bruising kiss that swept away the voices in her head. Swept away the memories. Swept away the fear and the shame until there was nothing but the two of them straining together.

  Finally, he broke the kiss, leaving her panting. He skimmed his hand down the length of her body, knocking away bits of wax as he moved unerringly toward her center. “Is this what you need?”

  “I just need you.” She took a breath and admitted, “However I can get you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Eliza’s words still ringing in his head, Angus stood and pulled the condom from his pocket before shoving off his jeans and underwear and kicking them aside. Tearing open the package, he quickly sheathed himself and sank down on the bench between her splayed legs.

  She arched her body, as far as she was able, in invitation. He loved the way she gave herself to the moment—how she gave herself to him. Though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have some residual concern over when she’d disconnected from him—from the moment—earlier. Had he pushed her by forcing her to confront her image in the mirror? They’d need to talk about that, but right now, she needed him here, with her.

  He leaned forward and peeled the cooled wax from her skin, gently bathing the bared flesh with his tongue, knowing how much more sensitive she’d be. He smiled against her mound at the way she railed and thrashed against him, begging him to fuck her.

  Scooting closer, he dragged the tip of his prick through her sweetly swollen slit. He’d lost track of how many times she’d come tonight. She moaned, lifting into him, as his head breeched her snug opening. Her muscles rippled around him, drawing him farther, but he stopped, wanting to prolong this moment as much as possible. Wanting to memorize everything about it. Everything about her.

  Her eyes flew open. Her lust-blown pupils were huge. “You’re always telling me you want to give me what I need.”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  Her voice was a barely audible rasp as she continued, “Then, I need you to fuck me. I need you to wreck me on your cock.”

  He lost the battle to take her slowly. Groaning, he shoved into her, slamming forward so hard, the bench slid at least an inch or two, and he pushed a ragged scream from her throat. Her cunt gripped him so tightly, her heat scorching him, that moving became the most delicious agony he’d ever known.

  Anchoring one hand beneath her arse and the other in her hair, he pounded into her, grinding against her with every thrust. He could tell she was about to come the moment her eyes lost focus. There was no way he’d last more than a moment or two beyond her climax. He shafted her harder, wanting to give her exactly what she wanted—what she needed. What they both needed. And fuck him, but he needed her. Needed her more than he’d ever needed anyone.

  Her lips against his neck, she whispered his name like it was a prayer. Or maybe it was a spell. Her voice wound around him, pulling him deeper into her. Suddenly, her body stiffened in his arms as her internal muscles contracted and rippled around him, squeezing his cock until he lost all semblance of rhythm. Hot and cold tingles raced down his spine to coalesce at the small of his back. There wasn’t even a moment of warning. As soon as they’d gathered, his balls pulled up tight, and he roared out his release, sinking his teeth into Eliza’s shoulder.

  Despite the overwhelming bliss that pulsed from his body, he was aware of her reaction to his bite—both the scream torn from her throat and a second smaller shuddering orgasm that milked the last of his. His girl liked to be bitten. Good to know. Still catching his breath, he finally raised his head, not willing to move too far from her.

  She narrowed her gorgeous eyes at him and scowled. “You bit me.”

  He flexed his hips, sliding his still hard length inside her, loving the way her breath caught and her eyes fluttered closed. “And you loved it, didn’t you?”

  Her scowl deepened, and she pinned him with her glare. “Maybe. Yes. Whatever.”

  He laughed and flexed again. “I could tell.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he shrugged. “It’s hard not to notice when your girl clenches around your cock whilst screaming uncontrollably.”

  “I can control myself. I just choose not to.”

  He kissed her as she fought a smile. “I’m glad.”

  Relinquishing his hold on her, he slowly withdrew and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  After taking care of his condom, he returned and untied her. Staring at the rope imprints in her skin, she caught her breath. He cradled her wrist, gently rubbing it to get the circulation back.

  “I’m sorry. I should have left it looser.”

  She shook her head, her eyes shining. “It was perfect.” She ran her fingertips across the indentations. “These are perfect.” She leaned forward and kissed him; her lips sweet and soft against his. “I’m beginning to think you’re perfect.”

  Laughing ruefully, he shook his head and helped her sit up. “Not even close, lass. Not even close.”

  Angus glanced at the clock on stove as he poured himself and Eliza another cup of coffee. Time seemed to be racing downhill. The outline was finished. Now that he was sure how the book ended, he’d written at a ridiculous speed. The words flowed at what would have felt like an alarming pace had they not felt so right. What didn’t feel right was that he’d be taking Eliza back to Heathrow shortly. He’d tried to talk Barbara into letting Eliza stay—at least until after the dedication. But his editor hadn’t budged. She needed Eliza back in New York to help with the proposal for the television executives they’d be meeting with soon.

  As he approached with their coffee, he paused behind her, his eyes on
her screen and the unfamiliar words there. From what he could see, the document looked to be fantasy or maybe urban fantasy. The writing itself was evocative and almost lyrical. He found himself wishing she’d scroll down—he wanted to read more.

  “Are you cheating on Escape Velocity with another book?” he teased, offering her the cup of coffee he’d poured for her.

  Eliza slammed her computer shut, and her face flushed bright red. “No. What? I’m just evaluating a submission.”

  Understanding slotted into place, and he placed both cups on the little table next to the sofa and sat down, angling his body toward her. “That was your writing.” It wasn’t a question. “That was your story.” Neither was that.

  If anything, her blush deepened. “I finished what you sent me earlier. I was just going through and cleaning up some old files.”

  “Hey.”

  When she didn’t look at him, he gently cupped her face and turned it toward him, but she still didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Eliza.”

  At his sharper tone, she lifted her gaze.

  “Whatever you do,” he continued, “don’t you dare delete that file—or any other files of yours on there.”

  She shook her head slightly. “It’s stupid. And old. I can’t believe it’s even on this computer. That was from at least two or three computers ago.”

  “I’m sorry I invaded your privacy and read over your shoulder. I was expecting to see notes on Escape Velocity. But you need to know that wasn’t even remotely stupid.”

  She seemed as if she were about to protest, but he didn’t give her the chance. “If you’d let me, I’d love to read the rest.”

  Glancing down as if she couldn’t bear the eye contact any longer, she said, “It’s really not worth it.”

  Reaching out, he tilted her face up again until she was meeting his gaze. “I don’t know who told you that, but they were talkin’ pish.”

  She forced a smile. “We’re wasting time. You should send me whatever else you’ve finished since the last bit I’ve read.”

  “Not until you promise me you won’t delete anything you’ve written.”

  “Angus...”

  “Promise me.”

  She sighed. “Fine. I promise I won’t delete anything I’ve written. Including your author evaluation form where I plan to describe you as bullying and boorish.”

  “Don’t forget brooding and pompous.”

  She laughed.

  He loved that he was usually able to bring a smile to her face. “Describe me any way you want, lass. But we’re not done discussing your writing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Send me the new stuff.”

  “Drink your coffee,” he said as he crossed to his desk.

  “Bossy.”

  He stifled a grin as he copied and pasted the next section into a document and emailed it to her. “You like it.”

  “Maybe,” she muttered, glowering at him as she sipped her coffee.

  It was clear the moment she received the email notification. She sat up and set her cup aside then quickly opened the document and began reading. Her brow furrowed, and she absently bit her lower lip, leaning closer to her screen.

  “I knew it!”

  “Oh?”

  “I knew Wye hadn’t deserted them. Not permanently, anyway.”

  He turned his chair to face her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then you knew more than I did.”

  “Shh.” She waved him away. “I’m reading.” She turned back at her laptop screen and began making notes, and adding commas, no doubt.

  The remaining day and a half passed in a blur. When they weren’t writing and editing, they were making love. He knew it would only be a week until he saw her again, but it felt like a fucking lifetime. They’d slept some, but it hadn’t been as much as either of them had needed. He glanced over at Eliza in the passenger seat. She was dozing again, but she jolted awake as he swerved to avoid what looked like the remains of some poor sap’s luggage in the middle of the road.

  “Sorry about that,” he murmured.

  She yawned and stretched. “It’s okay. I don’t want to sleep away these last few hours with you, anyway.”

  “They won’t be our last hours, you know.”

  She reached over and rested her hand on his thigh. “I know. But I still want as much time with you as I can get.” She glanced over at him, almost shyly. “I’m going to miss you.”

  His heart ached. The thought of not being able to see her every day, not being able to touch her, was killing him. “I’m going to miss you, too.” He met her eyes before turning back to the road. “So fucking much.”

  He took his left hand off the steering wheel and laced their fingers together. “I’ll be in New York in a week. How would you feel if I extended my stay past the contract talks with Terra and STARZ?”

  A smile bloomed on her face, climbing all the way to her eyes. “I’d love it. I’d love it more if you could come with me, now.” Her smile faded. “Actually, what I’d really love, is if I could stay with you for the dedication.”

  He drew in a sharp breath and pushed away his disappointment. “I know. I want that, too. More than anything.”

  It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the ceremony without her, he’d simply rather have her with him. He knew that if she hadn’t come into his life, he wouldn’t be on the verge of finishing this book. And despite the fact that Ewan would never get to read it, Sarah would—because of Eliza. Angus would always miss his brother—that would never change—but being able to finally finish the series that Ewan had loved so much was bringing Angus a kind of peace he’d never thought he’d feel again.

  And it wasn’t that she’d helped him get to the point where finishing the book was possible. She’d brought so much more to his life, and being without that—being without her—even for a week, felt interminable. A few years ago, he would have laughed at himself—or anyone else—who thought they knew enough about a person to want to commit to them after only six weeks. And he didn’t know everything there was to know about Eliza. She had secrets. Ones that clearly haunted her. But he believed she’d eventually come to trust him enough to let him help her shoulder them. And he was certain—more so about this than anything else in his life—that she was it for him. She was who he was meant to be with.

  If Ewan had taught him nothing else, it was that life was short—not to mention unpredictable. Angus wasn’t going to waste a minute of it where she was concerned.

  His mobile rang, interrupting his thoughts. He rarely ever got calls. He let go of Eliza’s hand and pulled the device from the cup holder, hoping it was Barbara telling him she’d changed her mind about Eliza staying.

  It wasn’t.

  He didn’t recognize the number, but it was a London exchange. He thought about ignoring it, but then, he realized it could be someone with information on the shipments he was still waiting on for the media center, so he answered. And immediately regretted it.

  Fucking Nigel.

  Not only did Angus not feel like speaking to him, talking on a mobile while driving was illegal. He hadn’t even thought about it before taking the call.

  “Hey, I’ve got to make this quick. I’m driving.”

  “You’re a hard man to get a hold of.”

  “Oh?” He didn’t recall any other calls from this number. In fact, he didn’t recall giving Nigel his number.

  “Yeah. Anyway, isn’t today the day you’ll be dropping your assistant at the airport?”

  An odd leaden feeling settled in Angus’ gut. “Yeah.”

  “Excellent. Why don’t we grab dinner after?”

  “Actually, tonight won’t work. I’m on deadline.”

  Nigel laughed. “You’ve been on deadline for years. Another night won’t make a difference.”

  The man’s laughter grated on Angus, but he forced himself not to tell Nigel to go fuck himself. While Angus didn’t particularly care for him, they had plenty of mutual friends, and when Angus wa
s in England, they frequented many of the same places. There was no sense making things unpleasant.

  “In this case, it actually will. But I’ll be coming back through London a week from Monday. How about if we meet for an early lunch, then?”

  “If you’re sure you can’t swing it today...I had something I needed to give you.” His tone had gotten a little tighter, a bit haughtier.

  Nigel’s insistence raised Angus’ hackles. But that was nothing new, he supposed. In school, he’d always been the sort of person who’d gotten pissy when things hadn’t gone exactly as he would have preferred.

  “Let’s meet at Oriel Grande at eleven-thirty on Monday.”

  “If that’s the best you can do.” Nigel definitely sounded annoyed, but Angus had zero fucks to give.

  “I’ll see you then.”

  He hung up and glanced at Eliza.

  She was studying him closely. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He laced their fingers back together. “That was just an old schoolmate who’s strangely insistent about getting together. I saw him at the signing at Foyles. Before then, I hadn’t seen him in at least three or four years.”

  “That’s odd.”

  “I don’t even know where he got my number. Though, we do have mutual friends.”

  He had a dim memory from the night of the signing and Nigel telling him to get his number from their friend Kit. Maybe he’d asked Kit for Angus’. It would make sense.

  Relaxing somewhat, he smiled at her. “Nigel’s always been a bit off-putting. I guess some things don’t change.”

  He shoved the man out of his head and focused on what was important. Eliza.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Eliza’s stomach churned as they drew closer to London. Part of it was just hearing the name Nigel from Angus’ lips. That was more than enough to make her feel uncomfortable. Though, it wasn’t like Nigel was an uncommon name in the U.K. But even more than hearing his name was the reminder that she really did need to tell Angus about Libby and her own Nigel.