BOUND: Together

by Cynthia Dane

  Naturally, I looked forward to seeing his vulnerability as well. We would no longer be boss and intern, or rich privileged son and the middle-class daughter of mediocrity. We would be two people making hard love. Nothing more. Certainly nothing less.

  Eric watched me with rapt attention from the end of his California king bed bedecked in a deep, sapphire blue spread made of the finest materials to ever touch my skin. But I am way ahead of myself.

  He wanted me to take his clothes off. Personally, I wish I had already been naked, because my fingers fumbled with clasps and buttons as if covered in grease.

  No, just nerves. Because even though I had no problem with nudity, I was eager to do everything at once, even if impossible.

  He said nothing as I undressed. Gave no opinions, commendations, or criticisms. Not that he had to say anything, of course. I could see the admiration in his eyes when I removed my blouse and shimmied out of my skirt. I kicked off my shoes and tried not to think about the chill claiming my half-naked body. My bra and panties weren’t skimpy, really, but they didn’t exactly cover most of my body.

  My fingers played with my hair as I waited for him to have some kind of reaction to me in my underwear. What was he thinking? How badly he wanted to touch me? Kiss me? Fuck me?

  Because God knew I was thinking that.

  “All of it,” he said.

  I slowly unsnapped the clasps of my bra and pulled down the straps. I’m not shy to admit that I wear a pushup bra. When you’re not the most endowed woman in the universe, you take the help you can get.

  “You like?” I gestured to the hard nipples on my breasts. The same ones I used to be embarrassed about in the middle school locker room, back when I was surrounded by pretty pink nipples that looked nothing like mine. Classmates made fun of me. Told me I had chocolate chips, and not in a nice way. It didn’t help that they had grown B-cups and I didn’t get my first cup until I was seventeen.

  I swallowed to remember that. Surely, a worldly man like Eric had seen his fair share of nipples, including brown.

  “I’m mesmerized.”

  Not a bit of sarcasm detected. Because Eric was mesmerized, his wide eyes transfixed on my emerging figure. His gaze emboldened me to strip my panties off my body.

  When I was naked, he gestured for me to come to him.

  If I expected words of admiration or the kind of knowing look I expected from men, then I was sorely disappointed. Good thing I didn’t expect those things. Probably because I had no idea what to really expect.

  I certainly did not expect him to lean forward and softly kiss my abdomen.

  Or the crevice between my breasts.

  Or the little pockets beneath my breasts.

  This was not what I expected at all. It was so tender and out of place from my previous experiences that I was almost knocked off my feet from one simple kiss to my skin.

  Eric explored the whole length and breadth of my body using nothing but his lips and fingertips. It was a far cry from what we had last night, or even in the car an hour ago. Not that I was complaining. To this day I look back on that moment with a fondness that I have yet to experience since.

  When his lips touched my mound, I nearly crumpled into a sigh.

  “On the bed.”

  My hands broke my soft fall. I had barely dragged my knees up onto the bed when Eric’s touch lingered on my ass and sent me down onto my side.

  I rolled onto my back and waited for him to follow. Instead, he went to a drawer and pulled something from its depths. It was too dark and too far away for me to see.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Once more I obliged.

  A soft piece of fabric wrapped around my head. A blindfold.

  “Bit early for sensory deprivation in a relationship, isn’t it?”

  “I make the rules, Natalie.” His weight sank the bed beneath me. His touch wandered across my body, arousing me once more. “My bedroom, my rules.”

  I wouldn’t argue with that. I was a guest, after all.

  “Now…” He took my hands and placed them on either side of my head. “What are you thinking, Natalie?”

  Really? A man was asking me what I was thinking during sex? What planet were we on? “That I really want to do this.”

  “Do you?”

  I sat up, my lips searching for his. “Yes. Can’t you tell? How much I want to…” One of my hands broke free from his and touched his chest. I tried to either squeeze his muscle or at least grip his shirt.

  My plans – my thoughts – were broken. Eric snatched my wrist and pinned me back down to the bed.

  “No.” His firm command reverberated through both the bed and me. “You do not touch me. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Tonight is all about you.” The edge left his voice. A part of me was relieved. Another part of me missed it. “I want everything to focus on you and your body. Would that please you?”

  Anything would have pleased me in that moment. Sure, a little nagging voice in the back of my mind said, “Isn’t it bizarre that this man doesn’t want you touching him? It’s not like you’ve said you’re not interested or even inexperienced.” But I didn’t listen to that voice. We’ve all made decisions that were based purely on emotions or, in this particular case, sexual desire. I won’t pretend that I’m the only woman to be boneheaded enough to throw herself into bed with someone like Eric.

  Even though I should have listened to that voice. It would have saved me a lot of grief later.

  I still had yet to answer. My chest heaved with heavy breaths as I contemplated a response.

  “Would it?”

  “Does it please you?”

  A chuckle tickled my ear. “You have a body worth touching and exploring. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now than get to know the most intimate you.”

  “What about me getting to know you?”

  I expected him to say something haughty, reserved, or deflecting. “You don’t need to know the real me.” “You know enough.” “Let’s keep it simple.” Instead, he said, “Eventually. One thing at a time.”

  “Okay. Then it pleases me.”

  He lightened his grip on my hands. Next thing I knew, Eric Mann was between my legs, fully clothed but eager to explore my naked body.

  “Keep your hands to yourself,” he reminded me when I instinctively reached to touch him. How could I restrain it when it’s my natural reaction to caressing? I want to touch back! “Or don’t. But if you don’t, I’ll have to take drastic measures.”

  There was that bite again. I think he wanted to take those drastic measures.

  But how could I think about that when his mouth was on my nipple again, and his hands meandered down my torso?

  Never before had someone touched me like that. Reverent awe rippled from his fingertips every time he stroked one of my curves. Curiosity bounded across my stomach. Careful consideration tangled in my body hair. When he lightly blew on my thigh, teasing my clit that so easily came out of its shell whenever I was aroused, I squirmed from that terrible marriage of frustration and relief.

  He didn’t pleasure me like that. Not yet.

  It took a few minutes for me to really get into it. I was so used to hurrying into foreplay, ripping off clothes, and getting to the main event as soon as things were good to go. The few times I had made sensual love with someone, it was after going out with them for a few weeks. But this was different. This was our first time, and it was like he couldn’t get enough of me.

  I yearned to touch him, to feel him up like he caressed me. Yet as the minutes passed and I learned to enjoy the sensations, I relented.

  Until I became so lost in it that I instinctively reached between the legs.

  Why wouldn’t I? I wanted him to feel good too.

  “No.”

  That wasn’t a request. That was the most serious command my boss had yet to give me, whether in the bedroom or in the office.

  “What did I say, Natalie?�
�

  He wasn’t kidding around. We had gone past roleplaying. My actions could very well end this tryst before it really began.

  “I’m sorry.” Any attempt to keep my voice level was marred by the anxiety exploding between us. No, we weren’t supposed to feel this way. I wasn’t supposed to second-guess what I did with my boss – remember, I was with my boss. This wasn’t kosher. This wasn’t going to end well for me. But I wanted to enjoy it.

  The anxiety had to go.

  “Don’t touch you.” I relaxed beneath his softening touch. “You told me not to touch you. I’m sorry. You gotta understand, I was really into it and wanted to give back…”

  “I know.” I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the relief in his voice. It wasn’t as deep as he projected around the office or other places in public. Whenever we were alone, whether like this or not, his voice lightened. Warmed. Sometimes I felt that I was in the arms of the best friend I experimented with instead of the in-control, masculine boss I expected.

  That wasn’t to say my expectations were better than reality. Sometimes it’s nice to be surprised… to have your fantasies obliterated for something better.

  “But I’m not the one this is about, Natalie.” His weight left the bed. I remained where I lay, afraid to move, but also anticipating his return to my side. “It’s about you. I want you to walk into work tomorrow knowing no one had made better love to you.”

  Shivers.

  I was not surprised when he tied my wrists together with a thick, silk scarf. To this day I don’t know what it looked like. I only know that it felt like a cool, protective breeze against my skin and brushed against my thighs whenever I moved.

  But I could still potentially touch him. That wouldn’t do.

  “On your knees.”

  Yes, sir.

  The scarf binding my wrists was soon attached to the headboard. Or maybe it was the nightstand. By that point, I had no idea where I was on that bed. Pillows could be moved. I could be moved. The more Eric Mann manipulated my naked body to his liking, the more I released my inhibitions into the atmosphere.

  I trusted him. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did. His manners, the tone of his voice, and how he had treated me thus far turned me into mush for him. Even if I hadn’t been harboring my lust for him deep within my quivering body, I would have been ready for him to do whatever he wanted to me.

  Take me… I thought that over and over in my head. Take me now.

  He drew it out, of course. He wasn’t the type of man to go right for the main event. He wanted to savor me, even if I cried for relief.

  Savor me he did. Inch by glorious inch.

  Now that I was restrained from running my hands across his body, there were no interruptions to my pleasure.

  Fingers down my crevices. Kisses to my skin, some so soft that they felt like his eyelashes instead of his lips, and others so hard I hoped the bruise would be beautiful. Whispers in my ear that promised me the climax of my life if I behaved. Compliments on parts of my body I had never even seen before. The mole on the bottom of my back was beautiful. The light stretch marks across my abdomen and breasts were gorgeous. The freckles on my nose were so exquisite… which side of my family did they come from?

  I told him that they came from my mother. He corrected me and said that they were a gift, like my life.

  Every touch was full of awe. Every kiss elevated me to another level of confidence. If I had not known who this man was, that he was the emperor of one of the biggest corporations in America, then I would have never believed his name was Eric Mann. Because why would a man like him want me so badly?

  That was the night I discovered what it was like to be treated like a goddess. To be revered, worshipped, and adored. Everything was so sweet with its passion that I completely opened up to him when his fingers eased between my nether lips and stroked my clit.

  His lips touched mine when he penetrated me. It happened so quickly, so deftly that it was the most natural motion to ever touch me inside.

  Oh, my God. How do I describe the way it felt?

  I didn’t tell him how to do anything. I didn’t have to. I don’t doubt I could have suggested something, but why interrupt my ascent to climax when everything was so perfect already? Seriously! If you had told me that it was possible for a man to make me feel so good without instruction – let alone the first time we made love – I would have never believed it. He knew my body so well that I could have cried.

  Well, I did cry. In unfettered desire.

  I was taken on a journey through sensations I had never experienced before. My heart was allowed to relax and become a young woman’s once and for all. No anxiety. No worries. No wondering where this relationship was going or wondering if it could feel even better. I knew it couldn’t. Not that first night. Maybe, when we had been together a long while and I was absconded by true love…

  See? See how much of a girl I was? I had grown up so early in my life. By the time I had my first relationship, I was already bitter and cynical. Everything was over before it began. I could never fully enjoy something. Too much pressure. Too many demands. Not enough care toward me. I was always a vessel for someone else’s pleasure.

  That night? It really was all about me. And him, of course. Mostly me.

  And how much he enjoyed me.

  He enjoyed nothing more than telling me how enticing the depths of my body were while I burst in orgasm. There it was. The first true dam broken. Sure, the boundaries had been obliterated with our first kiss, but to come in front of Eric, to let him see that level of vulnerability in my body… it was heaven. It brought us closer together. For a brief, blessed moment, there was nothing to separate us. Not class, not age, and certainly nothing as petty as our work relationship.

  Because Eric Mann’s fingers were inside of me and his tongue was down my throat. To groan my climax against his mouth meant I no longer had a shred of shame left in my body.

  Some would say I also did not have any dignity left. To that, I say fuck off.

  When you’re treated like a goddess by someone who truly worships you, you’re filled with nothing but dignity!

  If you had seen me, bound, blindfolded, and treated like the otherworldly being Eric surely thought I was… you would have agreed.

  I wasn’t allowed to rest. Every good sensation I could possibly have came at me from every direction. If it weren’t his fingers plunging deep within me, it was his mouth exploring those same nooks and transforming me into his. Can you imagine it? Being so beholden to one person? Perhaps you can. Because until that moment, I definitely could not.

  Whether it was his mouth or some other part of his body, I was made to ride that continuous crest of climax, my body spread across the California king bed, always searching for any edge to curl my toes around.

  He turned me over and gave it to me like that. I screamed into the bedspread that I had never felt so divine.

  Not once did he ask for anything. He only asked for me to be his.

  What else could I do but consent? I had never wanted something so badly before! Not even my internship!

  We did not truly become one until that last minute, when he thrust between my legs and covered my lips with such heavy kisses that I could barely breathe.

  He never took off his clothes. I didn’t care.

  All I cared about was feeling this good forever.

  Chapter 19

  NATALIE

  Natalie stayed another half hour. Long enough for her to grace my bed with her post-orgasmic aura and for me to contemplate how I would steal to my shower and take care of myself there. It was too early in our relationship for me to ask her to give back. I didn’t mind.

  Not when I had the most seductive woman in the world naked in my bed.

  “Who’s that?”

  Her satisfied voice snapped me free from my imagination – I had spent the past five minutes staring at her wet thighs, wondering what it would be like to feel my naked body against them. Alas, o
nly my trousers had the honor that night. I would have to be pleased with merely gazing upon her until I had to unfortunately ask her to leave.

  It might come sooner rather than later. Because she had been staring at the photograph on my nightstand when she asked me her question.

  “Your sister?”

  I mulled over what explanation I wanted to give her by distracting her with another loving touch. This one was to her side, which I worshipped with one, lingering stroke of my wet fingertips. “It’s an old photograph.” I had forgotten my dead brother stared at me from the nightstand. I often wondered… what did he think of this sex life he never got to have? Because it was his name, his identity associated with most of my girlfriends. Erica Mann would have been a virgin if it weren’t for one moment of desperation many years ago. “From when we were five.”

  “You’re adorable,” Natalie murmured. “So is your sister.”

  Yes. My sister. The little girl in the dress and Mary-Janes. Was that my body in that ensemble? Because I no longer recognized it. “That was taken five weeks before the accident.”

  “I’m sorry. I had forgotten.”

  I chuckled. “Your brain’s not in your body right now.”

  “It happens.”

  I reached across her and tipped the photograph down. I’m sorry, I thought to my brother, in case he continued to haunt me.

  “Weren’t you in that accident too?”

  My arm settled around Natalie’s naked body. I wanted her warmth, her glow to radiate against me. “Yes. I was there when it happened.”

  “Wow. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  Even with Natalie absorbing some of my negative energy, I was still consumed by one of the most traumatizing moments of my life. The story my family told the press – and the one I continued to parrot when necessary – was that Erica Mann had been trampled to death by a horse. It was true that my family had their own stables and were determined to make their twins a pair of the best riders in the country. It was also true that my brother died in those stables.