Bound to Pleasure [Bound To 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

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Bound to Pleasure [Bound To 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 8

by Piper Flynn


  “You know you’ve got the man wrapped in knots?” Connie crouched down in front of her, running a gentle hand over one dark bruise on her cheek.

  “Nonsense.”

  “Oh, but you do. He’s danced around you like an idiot for an entire year, scared to death to bring you into the mess that dick Master Stone caused. Growling and snapping on his leash whenever anyone of the male variety got too close. No lie, little subbie. It was highly entertaining.”

  “Connie, I think I did something to the oven. It made a noise and now there’s a bit of smoke.” Emma looked down the hall to see Ronan poking his head out of the doorway, waving an oven mitt in the air.

  “Smoke? Ronan, goddammit it! I’ve told you a million times to stay away from my stove when I’m cooking. Emma, if you don’t want him ruining your kitchen, you best keep him out of there. The man is the bane of good cooking. Can’t even toast a Pop Tart. Ronan, you lay a finger on that lasagna pan and I’m putting a beat down on your overgrown ass.” Connie was already turning to head back to the kitchen to fix whatever Ronan had done.

  Emma smiled as she heard both men’s voices rise. The scent of burning bread reached her nose right before the crash of pottery told her they’d probably be ordering pizza. Damn, she’d really wanted to try Connie’s world-famous lasagna.

  Chapter 6

  “It’s been four weeks since the accident and we still can’t open for business. I’m starting to get frustrated.” Emma wiped futilely at the dusty grime covering the new counter. The construction was taking longer than she had expected. The truck had done extensive damage to the wiring and plumbing, as well as partially taking out a structural support beam. The estimated month turnaround time was now up to two months. She’d go crazy if it took much longer, although everyone had assured her two months for that sort of damage was a miracle turnaround. The boys were going to their clients’ homes and training until the building was repaired, which kept them occupied. She had entertained the idea of cooking at Ronan’s and bringing it into the café but didn’t think her customers would appreciate a side of sawdust with their Mean Greens Shake.

  “We’re all frustrated, pipsqueak,” Stephen said. “But we can’t get around the ordinances. This place needs to be safe to work in again. The guy managing the crew says he can have everything done in two more weeks. Even the extra stuff the inspector added this morning. Just consider it a vacation. Work on some of those new concoctions you’re always muttering about for when we do open.”

  Stephen watched his baby sister pace back and forth across the dirty subfloor. If it had been up to him they’d have just torn the place down and moved. He hated the thought of what almost happened to her here. But Emma had refused to relocate to the shiny new stores in the newest strip mall.

  “Well, I want to earn my part, Stephen. It’s not fair you guys are shouldering the load of bills and I’m on ‘vacation.’”

  Ethan smiled at her air-quoting vacation. She’d never liked to be idle. Emma needed to feel needed. Even all these years later, she was still trying to justify being a part of their family. As if one day they’d look at her and tell her to go away, that she wasn’t wanted. He’d only been in the foster system a few months when Ian had rescued him. Poor little Emma had endured years of being passed around from family to family. It had left its mark. “Family doesn’t keep score, Emma.” Walking over, he gathered her up in what they all referred to as a bone-crusher hug and squeezed until she was laughing and squealing for mercy.

  “Okay, okay, I give. You are right, oh mighty Ethan.” Emma gave the obligatory tap-out phrase before elbowing her brother in the stomach. They always knew exactly what to do and say. “There are some recipes I’d like to work on so while the café is shut down I’ll tweak them a bit. There, are you happy?”

  “And you’ll stop coming here until the major construction is done. There’s no sense in it, Emma. Plus, it’s dangerous to be in here with all the equipment and supplies sitting around. I know you have everything you could ever need for your tweaking in that monster kitchen Ronan had built.” Stephen stepped up next to his brother, eyeing the top of Emma’s head as she stewed over her forced vacation.

  “Fine. I’ll stay home.” The moment the words left Emma’s mouth, her head popped up in surprise. Home. Ronan’s house was home. She’d not stayed in the house attached to the café since that first night. She couldn’t imagine not sleeping beside Ronan every night.

  “Good, it’s settled. Now, scoot along so these guys can get back to work.” Stephen tried to drag her in for a noogie but she ducked under his elbow.

  “I’m meeting Chase anyway. No need to kick me out, you big bully.”

  Ethan blew her a kiss as she walked out the door into the bright sunshine. Early May was beautiful in Kentucky. The trees were blooming. Across the way a powerful lawn mower kicked up trimmings, filling the air with the smell of fresh-cut grass. People were out walking and riding their bikes. Music could be heard drifting from open windows. It was perfect. Taking in a deep breath, Emma smiled and headed for her car. Reaching down to rummage through her purse for keys, she realized she left without grabbing them off the counter. “Kind of hard to drive to Season’s without a car.”

  Turning just as she reached the corner of the building to head back, she gave a loud yelp as searing flash of pain swept across her shoulder. The sound of a car backfiring had her jumping in fright before she could investigate what had happened to her shoulder.

  In her periphery, she saw her brothers come running out of the café toward her. They must have heard the car and was wondering what it was.

  “Car backfired. Scared me to death.” Giving her shoulder a curious glance, she noticed it was red with a few faint scratches and what looked like the smallest welling of blood. She rubbed over the spot, which made the sting worse. What could have done that? Maybe a bee or wasp? Looking across, she noticed the zero-turn mower making a pass. Could have been a rock hurtled from that thing. Ethan had nearly lost an eye one year when the lawn mower had slung a stone straight at his face.

  Stephen ran a hand through his hair. “Scared the hell out of us. You’d just walked out here and then we hear what sounds like a gun going off.”

  Emma rolled her eyes and gave him a sisterly elbow to the stomach as she passed. “Don’t be so dramatic, Stephen. We live in Barton County. Small town, USA. It’s not like assassins are waiting at every turn.”

  They both gave her a glance and she realized their little small town had recently had a crazy serial-killing lunatic named Andrew Stone as a resident. “Hmm, point taken.”

  “Thought you were meeting Chase.” Ethan held the door for her as she walked back in the café.

  “Forgot my keys because you guys kicked me out into the cold, merciless streets. Without a penny to my name, without a coat, without shoes, without—”

  “Who’s being dramatic now, sis? It’s May and no one is buying that story,” Stephen said from the other side of the opened door.

  “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Because now I’m going to be late and Chase is going to need someone to blame it on and it’s not going to be me. You know how anal he is about people being on time. I’m passing the buck to you guys.”

  “You’re a cruel-hearted woman. You know he takes his anger out on our faces when we spar together.”

  Going up on tiptoe and giving each brother a quick kiss, she smiled “Well, I’ve always said you’ve been too handsome for your own good. A nice crooked nose will make you more approachable. Think about it. What woman is going to want to take on two perfect guys full time? You need some roughing up.”

  Emma watched in satisfaction when both their faces started to bloom a delightful shade of red as they made the connection to their ménage lifestyle and her comment.

  “Don’t wait up, boys!” she said, laughing as she walked away.

  * * * *

  “Fucking whore, fucking whore, the bitch! I can’t believe it.” That bitch shou
ld have a hole where her face used to be. “Goddamn cunt!” The scream of rage sent birds flying from the surrounding trees. “Why won’t you just die already?”

  After days of following Emma Black around, she thought she’d finally had the perfect opportunity when she’d walked out on the sidewalk and just stood there looking around like a dolt.

  The scene would have been perfect. Both her meathead brothers would have come running out the door, falling to their knees in horror at the sight of their beloved sister. Then Ronan would have been called and told the news. He would have rushed to the hospital in hopes she could be saved, only to be directed to the morgue to view her faceless corpse.

  He might even have killed himself and saved her the trouble.

  The Master would be furious with her if she went back again without killing Ronan Kincaid and his sub bitch. The last time she’d failed, he’d made her go to that stupid lawyer’s house and be his fuck toy for the weekend as a punishment. It had been awful. The old windbag had actually gotten a prescription for the little pill that would keep him hard for hours. She’d been ready to scream with frustration after the fourth time he’d made her drop to her knees and suck his small prick. Master Stone had decreed a command from Benson was to be obeyed, just as she would obey him. Her Master knew she needed to atone for her ineptitude. He needed to show her his will must be fulfilled. If Master had been free to punish her, she probably would have not been able to move for days.

  Her nipples hardened at the thought of Master Stone administering punishment. He would have used his tools on her. First the whip and cane, then the blades. The marks would have been so detailed and delicate, each cut laying open her skin so that she could be purged of any wrongdoing. The pain would have been breathtaking.

  But that would never happen because those awful Kincaids had helped put her beloved Master in jail. Those people had ruined any chance of happiness she would ever have with the man made just for her. A bullet to the head was much too humane for Ronan Kincaid’s lover. A few hours under a rusty saw and a dull fillet knife might show her what suffering really was. A body could maintain itself for hours if you cauterized wounds quickly. She’d learned that from her childhood days. A mutt that had wandered up to their house had hung on for days after she’d sawed off its legs one by one. Emma Black probably wouldn’t have as much stamina, but it was going to be fun to find out.

  * * * *

  Emma walked into Ronan’s beautiful house wearing a smile. Chase and Kat had kept her laughing for hours in between nachos and margaritas. Well, one margarita for her. She knew she’d be driving afterward and didn’t want to chance being impaired. Kat had been bursting to share the news that she’d decided to take over the restaurant management position at The Lodge. Although not on par with Season’s, the restaurant was cozy and she could see Kat turning the place on its ear in no time. Chase had even been making noise about maybe moving over in the near future. That would be a feather in Kat’s hat if she could pull it off. Season’s regulars loved Chase and would undoubtedly follow were he led.

  Pulling her bag off her arm, Emma sucked in a breath as the strap scraped over her sore shoulder.

  “What’s wrong, little love?”

  Emma turned, smiling at the concern in the question. “Nothing important. A rock flew up off the road today and hit me in the shoulder. It’s tender to the touch. I just forgot and jostled it with my purse. No big deal.”

  Ronan turned her so he could better see the spot she was talking about. It was red, with a bit of a bruise around the scraped skin. He’d have to have a care of that when they played tonight. Leaning down, he kissed at the edge of the bruising, letting his tongue swipe at her skin. “Did you have fun with Chase and Kat?” It had killed him to wait for her to come home. He’d been planning this forever it seemed. Tonight he was going to collar her. He thought of the delicate necklace waiting upstairs and barely kept himself from tossing her over a shoulder and rushing up there.

  Emma closed her eyes as he continued kissing and licking up the side of her neck to her ear. The man’s mouth was lethal. What was his question? Chase and Kat. Oh, yes. Right there. Her whole body shivered as he nipped at her tender ear lobe. “Mmmmm, it’s good. I mean it was good, or rather, fun.”

  “I’m glad you had fun. I missed eating dinner with you. Watching those pretty lips part for each morsel of food I give you makes me hard. In the morning I believe I’m going to sit you on my cock and feed you between fucking that sweet little pussy.”

  Emma groaned as he threaded a hand through her hair, tilting her head slightly and kneading at her scalp. “Oh, God, that feels wonderful. Please don’t stop. I missed you too.”

  “I have no intentions of stopping, little love. Our night is just beginning. What is your safe word?”

  Hearing the change in his voice, Emma felt her already wet panties dampen even more. She loved it when his voice had that rough gravely sound. “Strawberry, Sir.”

  Ronan just stopped the groan at her automatic use of Sir. They had been playing and practicing protocols for the last few weeks. “Present, sub.” He watched with satisfaction as she began stripping without hesitation. First she toed off her shoes, next came her jeans and panties. Lastly her filmy blouse fluttered to the ground, showcasing small perfect breasts with hard beaded nipples. In a single graceful move she fell to her knees keeping her thighs wide, eyes downcast, with her hands resting on the floor.

  “That was beautiful, little love.” Holding out a hand, he assisted her back onto her feet. He ran a finger down her neck until he skated across her puckered nipple. He was rewarded for his actions with a sharply indrawn breath and groan. His finger continued past her nipple, sliding down and into her drenched folds.

  Emma’s head fell back on a low moan as Ronan dipped into her body and his thumb found her throbbing clit. Opening her eyes, she saw he was watching her closely. She’d never seen quite that look on his face before. It was harder and more possessive than she’d ever seen. Her pulse kicked up a beat in uncertainty. “Sir?”

  Ronan smiled at the hitch in her voice but never stopped fucking into her core and rubbing her sensitive clit. A bit of nerves would heighten the experience. Her eyes stayed on his, waiting even as her body trembled and her breathing became choppy. “Come for me.” Ronan caught her slipping body as she convulsed in an orgasm that sent even more of that sweet elixir slipping down her thighs. He was suddenly feeling the need for something sweet on his tongue. Giving in to what he originally wanted to do, he picked her up, putting her over his shoulder.

  Carrying her upstairs, he entered the master bedroom, placing her on the bed. Within moments he’d removed his shoes and shirt, and unbuttoned his jeans so his dick didn’t have a permanent zipper mark on it. Moving onto the bed, he spread her legs apart, positioning his shoulders to keep her from closing them, and began lapping at the juices running down her thighs. She tasted like the sweetest of treats. Continuing up, he licked and sucked at her folds, plunging his tongue in to scoop up every drop of her cum as she writhed and pulled at his hair. He felt her come twice more before he’d finished licking her clean. “You do taste good, little sub. I could eat this hot pussy all night.”

  Chuckling at her groan, he moved up her body, satisfied to see a light sheen of perspiration coated her form and her nipples were puffy and red.

  Emma watched Ronan look her over as he held himself at the entrance of her body. Looking down she could see his shaft, tip glistening, and felt her legs fall open even more, inviting the thick length into her body.

  “I’m going to fuck you, sub. I’ll be inside this pretty little body all night long. But right now I’m going to show you how good a flogger feels.”

  “A flogger?” She didn’t think it was possible for a heart to literally beat its way out of one’s chest, but hers was definitely trying at that moment. Was he talking about a whip? She’d seen movies were they whipped people. It didn’t look the least bit pleasant. Was that the same thing a
s a flogger? Had Kat talked about being flogged? She didn’t think so. Ronan wouldn’t use anything that would hurt her. Even if Jack had never used one on Kat, that didn’t mean they were bad. A whip and a flogger had to be different. They just had to be. She couldn’t take the—

  “Emma!”

  Emma startled at the deep voice pulling her from a mini panic attack.

  “Take a deep breath. That’s a good little sub. Let it out slowly. Now another.”

  Ronan watched her closely and saw the moment her breathing evened out and she was no longer ready to fly off the bed. He leaned over and took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. When he felt her body relaxing once again, he sat back. “Little sub, tonight we are going to use a sliding scale instead of your normal safe word. Red will stop everything. Yellow will slow things down and we’ll discuss how to work through your fear. Green means all is well and we’ll continue. Do you understand?”

  Emma nodded, then realized he was waiting for a verbal answer. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Where are you now?”

  She wanted so badly to say green to please him but she knew honesty and trust was a huge part of this sort of relationship. She also knew Ronan wouldn’t hurt her. If he thought the flogger would be enjoyable, she needed to trust he’d take care of her. “Yellow, Sir. I think I’m at yellow.”

  Leaning in and kissing her gently on the forehead, Ronan smiled approvingly. “Do not move from this bed, sub.” Pushing off the bed, he walked to his chest of tools and pulled out one of his floggers. He’d had this one especially made for Emma’s delicate body. The falls were buttery soft deerskin. It was a balanced work of craftsmanship. There would be no sting, only a lovely massaging thud. He knew once she got over her initial fear, she’d love the feel of a flogger. “Reach back and grab onto the headboard. Don’t move your hands.”

  Emma looked from the flogger to Ronan, then back to the flogger. It wasn’t a whip like she’d thought. It looked more like a tired dust mop that had finally given up the good fight and wilted from overuse. It didn’t look anything like a whip, thank God.

 

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