Bound by Steel

by Connie Lafortune

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Lyra. Here, give me your hands and keep your eyes closed.” Grabbing my hands, he wraps my fingers around the slats of the headboard and whispers, “Hold on tight.” And then his mouth and his hands are everywhere.

  My back arches off the bed when his hands knead my aching breasts and his warm mouth latches onto my nipple. Sucking, flicking and biting until I’m throbbing with need. My hands clench and unclench on the slats of the bed, as desire infiltrates every part of my being. I whimper when his mouth laves my tender breasts, but is soon replaced with a moan when his lips begin moving south.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  My heart beats staccato when he spreads me wide with his large hands and places himself at my center. But it’s soon replaced with embarrassment as his fingertips gently fondle my stupid birthmark. I suddenly want to run and hide until I hear him whisper, “Beautiful.” What? When I open my eyes to see his intense gaze staring back at me, I’m breathless. And then he breaks the connection as soon as his tongue replaces his fingers. I’m in ecstasy. Ryker doesn’t know it, but he’s branding me with his touch, searing me with his mouth and setting me on fire with his tongue.

  Unconsciously, my hands seek the thickness of his hair. “Lyra, no hands!” In a matter of seconds he’s off the bed, opening the bedside table and holding a pair of handcuffs.

  I’m trembling when he picks me up, swivels me around to face the headboard, and handcuffs me to the damn bed! “Dammit, Ryker! This was not part of the deal—”

  I’m just as stunned when he lies on his back, picks me up and murmurs, “Sit on my face, precious. I want you to come in my mouth.”

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus!

  With his hands gripping my waist, he can easily slide me back and forth. The gentle roughness of his beard, grazing every intimate part of me. Eliciting both pleasure and pain. At this moment, I’m so lost that I don’t want to be found. “Oh, Ryker. Yes. Just like that.” His lips wrap around my clit as he pulls me into his mouth. Flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue. Over and over again until my muscles clench and I’m coming all over his face.

  Once my breathing’s slowed, he picks me up and places me on my knees. “I’m giving you the option to lie on your stomach, or I can take you like this. What’s it going to be?”

  I’m so relaxed from my orgasm I purr, “Like this.” A scream catches in my throat when Ryker claims me from behind in one deep thrust. He’s so big and I’m so small that my knees feel like they’re about to buckle. So I do the only thing I can. I hold on to the headboard for dear life as he impales me from behind with his thick, hard cock. One of his arms covers my breasts, while his hand splays across my abdomen. Supporting me. My scent still lingers on his lips when he leans in to whisper, “Can you feel me now, precious?” Yes, oh god yes. His piercing massages my sweet spot with every thrust of his hips. It’s fucking erotic and feels so damn good…

  Ryker’s dirty mouth might be considered obscene to some people, but to me, it lights a fire deep inside of me. Now that I’ve adjusted to his extremely large size, I can feel myself climbing once again. I desperately want to reach down to touch that little bundle of nerves, but I can’t! He handcuffed me to the damn bed. It’s as if he can read my mind when his hand suddenly reaches between my thighs. Using just the right amount of pressure to push me over the edge. “Oh, god. I’m coming, Ry…”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ryker

  Lyra looked so damn beautiful splayed out across my bed last night. With her pale skin glowing from the moonlight that filtered into the darkened room. It was picture perfect. In fact, the whole scenario could have easily been created from one of those made-for-TV movies. You know, the exact same ones they play on the Hallmark or Lifetime channels. Fuck me. I knew deep down that’s what she wanted all along. I could see it in her eyes. Lyra craves some kind of connection. This being the only reason I ever agreed to this façade in the first place. I just pray she doesn’t leave me to drown in those somber hazel eyes. It could very well be my undoing.

  Especially since I’ve been sitting in the kitchen, clutching the same cold cup of coffee that I poured myself hours ago. Feeling both physically and emotionally drained. I’m hoping it has something to do with lack of caffeine or not enough sleep. Not the fact that I couldn’t finish what I started last night. That’s never happened before. Ever. I literally froze when Lyra screamed out my name as she was coming. She called me ‘Ry’ with such conviction and so much passion that for a moment I thought she was my wife. Until my brain processed the fact that it was Lyra and not Bella. So, I did the only thing I could. I took off her cuffs, threw on my boxers and rushed downstairs. And I’ve been sitting down here ever since.

  I feel numb. So much so, that I don’t hear Lyra approach until her hand gently squeezes my shoulder. “Look, I’m the one who propositioned you. So don’t beat yourself up about it just because you weren’t feeling it, Ryker.”

  Is she fucking serious?

  Is that what she thinks? That I wasn’t feeling her?

  Lyra squeals when I suddenly bolt out of the chair, throw her over my shoulder and carry her up the stairs. My head is pounding to the same rhythm of my heart as I toss her on the bed. And when she scrambles to get away, I grab her by the ankles and pull her close to the edge. When her frightened eyes lock on mine, I see a deer caught in headlights, accepting its death with trepid determinism. Because she is surrendering to me with the same grace and courage as a deer just before I squeeze the trigger. Fortunately for Lyra, the only gun I’m packing is the one in my boxers.

  Her breath falters when my hands pull apart her shirt, tearing it to shreds. My enthusiasm instantly causes her nipples to pebble beneath the thin fabric of her bra. Beautiful. When my hands tangle in the waistband of her pants, she immediately cries out, “Ryker, stop! Please. I don’t have enough clothes to go around for you to destroy!” Reluctantly, I let go.

  My fists clench and unclench at my sides when she begins undressing. And in a matter of seconds she’s stripped bare. Waiting. My chest aches at the sight of her. What the hell is happening to me? Lyra is the one who insisted on playing the game, but I have a gut feeling that I will be the one to lose.

  “In my haste, I forgot to tell you one very important stipulation, precious. Do not. I repeat, do not call me ‘Ry’ under any circumstances. You may scream out ‘Ryker’, ‘God’ or even ‘Gage’ for all I care, but not that nickname.” An invisible string tugs at my heart when her bottom lip trembles at the mention of her boyfriend. I’m such an ass, but I quickly suppress the sentiment when I reach out to lay her on my bed.

  My cock is throbbing by the time I slip out of my boxers and mount her like a damn dog in heat. I would love nothing better than to bury myself inside her slick folds. But, first, I want the taste of her on my tongue. Slowly, I skim my hands over the swell of her hips and the narrow curve of her waist, before cupping her soft, rounded breasts in my palms. The warmth of her skin against mine is fucking intoxicating. And when my mouth closes around a very taut nipple, she breathes out my name, “Ryker.” Lyra is so responsive to my touch that I convince myself this is just foreplay. It’s not me longing for some kind of connection of my own. Seriously, who the fuck am I kidding?

  I have an overwhelming need to ravish every inch of her. So I do. Feeling, licking, and biting my way down her slender body. And when I see her pussy already glistening in anticipation, I fucking lose it and bury my face at her center. I can’t stop myself from devouring her as I swipe my tongue from her puckered little opening to her swollen clit. The sweet taste of her on my tongue is my kryptonite. My aphrodisiac. I alternate between sucking, flicking, and lapping with the flat of my tongue until her back arches off the bed. “Yes… Oh god, Ryker…” I watch Lyra fist the sheets when I push two fingers inside of her. Sending her over the edge, while my tongue continues to lick up every last delectable drop. When her orgasm begins to fade, I nibble my way back up her body and flip her onto her side, so her ba
ck is pressed securely against my chest.

  “Can you feel it, precious?” I ask, as my cock glides along her slippery folds, massaging her sensitive clit. “Because I sure as hell can.” I lift her leg and wrap it around my hip. Then I slowly sink inside of her and curl my arm around her neck. Holding her firmly in place. “Do you feel how hard I am for you, Lyra?”

  “Mm, you feel so good…”

  “Then don’t ever doubt if I’m feeling it,” I whisper. When her hand clutches the back of my neck, my heart fragments. It’s obvious my cock inside of her isn’t enough. She craves intimacy. Everything, I cannot and will not give her. But if she only knew that this was the first time I’ve felt alive in years, she might want something I’m not capable of giving her. Passion is the one emotion I refuse to ever struggle with again. It’s too intense and all-consuming.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you’ve come so many times you beg me to stop.” Lyra moans as her muscles pulsate around my aching dick. It seems my little minx likes my sexually explicit banter in the bedroom. And I’m easily addicted to her little whimpers and mews. But I want her to be more vocal, and I know exactly what she needs. So I bury my hand between her thighs and strum her clit like a musician.

  “Please… I need to come. Please…”

  “Do you want to be fucked?” She refuses to look at me, but nods her head. Unfortunately for Lyra, she has no way of knowing the Pandora’s Box she’s just opened by giving herself to me. I’m a very, very wicked man. “I want to hear those two little words roll off your tongue, precious. Tell me. Now.”

  “Fuck me… please.” Uncontrollable lust courses through my veins when her hips suddenly rock into mine. Pushing me balls-deep inside of her tight, wet heat.

  “I’m going to make you come. So. Damn. Hard.” My hand continues its assault on her swollen nub as I impale her with my cock. Over and over again. Until her sweet walls start tightening. Constricting. Convulsing. To the point where we’re spiraling out of control. Impulsively, my teeth sink into the fleshy part of her neck. Not hard enough to draw blood. Just enough to mark her delicate skin. Pure ecstasy fills my loins with the taste of her on my tongue. With a roar, I explode inside of her.

  Best… Damn… Orgasm… Ever!

  When I’ve finally come down from my long-awaited orgasmic bliss, I’m acutely aware of her snuggling against my chest. This is not acceptable! And when she grabs my hand and threads her fingers hesitantly through mine, I know I’ve overstayed my welcome. Without a moment’s pause, I extricate myself from her and the situation. Bending down, I pick up her shirt so I can place it between her glistening thighs. Then I bend down to whisper, “Don’t fall for me, precious. I will destroy you...”

  Lyra

  The cabin’s toasty warm this morning when I mosey into the library. I’m instantly drawn to the big bay window where the sun’s beckoning me. I love curling up on the windowsill like a contented cat to sip my morning coffee. And when I start thinking how this room used to be my favorite less than twenty-four hours ago, I laugh like a silly schoolgirl. It’s not anymore. Now the bedroom is by far my new favorite room.

  But as I gaze out the window, my first coffee-induced thought of the day goes to… Ryker. How dare he think I could ever fall for him? Most days, I don’t even like him much. He’s controlling, dispassionate, and downright cocky. Every quality I hate in a man and try to stay as far away from as humanely possible. Arrogant bastard! Unfortunately for me, though, he’s the only contact I have. And I require some kind of mental and emotional stimulation on a daily basis. After last night, there’s no doubt in my mind that Ryker’s more than up for the task.

  He has an animal magnetism that downright seduces me. Much in the same way a magnet would be drawn to a piece of metal, or in my case a hunk of ‘Steel.’ Last night it enticed us, until his hands and mouth were on me, in me, and setting my body on fire. He fucked me hard and fast and in the light of day, I’m ashamed to admit, I loved every minute of it. For the life of me, I can’t ever recall being filled and drilled quite like that before. And when he said he would sate my hunger, he did that and more. So for now, we will use each other for pleasure until the day he sets me free.

  Stop it, Lyra! Do not let yourself be consumed by him. Not here. Not ever! I promised myself I would leave all thoughts of him behind when I stepped into this room today. The library’s my one and only sanctuary, where I reminisce about the past. It’s the one place where I allow myself to grieve about what I’ve lost—Gage, my family, and my freedom—and pray that someday we will be reunited once again. But today is not the same as yesterday. And tomorrow will not be the same as today. Because I’ve slept with the devil and I fear I will never be the same again.

  Out of nowhere, my lip begins to quiver. And the tears soon follow. One at a time. Until silent tears are coursing down my cheeks with no end in sight. And when Gage’s sweet face flickers in my mind’s eye, I’m remorseful. I slept with another man. No, Lyra, you fucked him! Oh sweet Jesus, how can Gage ever forgive me for what I’ve done? I press my knees tightly against my chest and wrap my arms around them. Now I’m sobbing like a child as guilt chews me up, only to spit me back out. Until I feel empty and alone.

  I feel Ryker, long before I can see him. He has such a commanding presence that when he enters a room, my body senses him long before my mind acknowledges him. I take a shuddering breath when his hand gently squeezes my shoulder. “What’s wrong, Lyra?”

  Is he effing kidding? He kidnapped me, fucked me, and refuses to let me leave and he has the audacity to ask what’s wrong? The next thing I know, I’m hurling myself at him once again. Sending my abandoned mug crashing to the floor. When my fists begin pounding against his solid chest, he grabs ahold of my wrists in one hand and spins me around with the other. Everything happens so fast that it leaves me breathless. And I’m pissed when his right arm immobilizes me with such force that I can barely breathe. “Take a few deep breaths and I’ll let you go. Breathe, precious.”

  “What’s the matter, Ryker? Did you forget to bring a syringe today?” Immediately, he loosens his hold on me, but doesn’t let go. Without the pressure, my chest heaves. Sweet air fills my lungs to near bursting, making me lightheaded and dizzy. Together, we walk back to the window ledge and he sets me down. Pressing his hand to the back of my neck, he pushes my head down between my knees. When I begin to struggle, he says, “You’re hyperventilating, Lyra. Don’t fight me!”

  As soon as I relax, he lets go. So why am I sad? Isn’t that what I wanted? For him to leave me alone in the only room where I can actually be Lyra Rose Harper and not his ‘precious’? Ryker needs to know how I really feel before my body betrays me. I slowly raise my head with my eyes closed so the room isn’t spinning around me. And after I’ve composed myself, only then do I begin to speak in a calm and rational manner. “I’m sorry if I’m out of control, but wouldn’t you feel a little frantic if you were cooped up day in and day out? With the exception of my little ‘excursion,’ I’ve been stuck in this damn house for over two months now. I need fresh air, Ryker. I need to feel the warmth of the sun against my skin. And the only time I have is in this room with my face pressed against the cold window.” As hard as I’m trying to keep it together, my voice starts to tremble.

  “Precious, I thought we had an understanding…”

  “My name’s Lyra! Not ‘precious’. I have loving parents and a boyfriend who adores me. I had a job I loved and the most amazing friends. Because of you, I will never see any of them again. And to top it all off, you fucked me without any protection. So now I’m going to be a dying pregnant woman because of some communicable disease you picked up from The Pleasure Palace.” I’m so angry that I hadn’t realized I was poking his chest with my index finger. Until he grabs my wrist and I fall apart.

  I feel myself floating as a pair of strong arms lifts me into the air. Ryker cradles me in his lap before sitting in the chair. I want to hate him so badly but when his large hands begin to gently
stroke my back, I just can’t. His voice sounds thick with emotion when he speaks. “Lyra is a very beautiful name but you will always be precious to me.” I shiver when his lips lightly graze the corner of my mouth. “And I’ve already given you my word that one day you will be reunited with your loved ones. I’m sorry if I can’t be more date-specific, but it will happen. And since I’ve only ever had one partner at The Pleasure Palace and I’ve always worn a condom, I think it’s safe to say you won’t die of any diseases in the near future. And you can’t get pregnant because you have an implant. Besides, it would be kind of hard for me to impregnate you when I only shoot blanks.”

  For a minute there, I lost all train of thought when he said I was going home. Until it dawns on me what he just said. “How did you know about…?”

  “The implant is in your left arm. I’ve known it was there since day one. It was either that or an RFID chip, and since no one has found you, I ruled it out. And before you ask, I had a vasectomy. I’m not the least bit interested in procreating, so it was an easy decision for me.”

  Wow. I’ve never met a man who willingly had his junk snipped. The few men I know who have had the procedure did so because their wives gave them the ultimatum. Vasectomy or no sex. So, I can’t stop myself from glancing up at him. And when our eyes connect, it’s impossible for him to hide the sadness behind them. As we stare into each other’s eyes, I’m acutely aware of the reason I’m here. Ryker needs me and that scares the bejesus out of him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryker

  I’ve emphasized on several occasions that I don’t do intimacy. So why the hell is Lyra nestled in my lap, looking at me like she knows every dirty little secret I’ve spent a lifetime trying to hide? Could it be because I’ve become weak-willed?