Bound to Surrender (South Jersey Bound Series) (8 page)

The chain swung between her breasts as he came to his knees. Her gaze dropped to his cock.
Damn.
Her ass throbbed, her nipples stung and still she wanted to wrap her tongue around his prick and suck.

“Pink tape and nipple chains work on you,” he said.

“All the rage this season.” She took a breath. “Sir.”

He drew her up by her shoulders so she rested on her knees. When he stood, his erection pulsed at lip-level.

“Next on the menu:
me.

Yes, dear
. She tried to wrap her lips around his cock but he stopped her.

“Oops,” he said. “Almost forgot.”

He hooked the chain over his erection. Where the hell did he come up with that? She gasped as her tits strained upward, pulled by the chain.

“Take as much of me as you can.
I don’t care if you drool.”

Christina didn’t think; she sucked. Using the present-moment awareness she’d discovered
, she took his length to the back of her mouth, expecting to gag. She didn’t. She opened her throat and relaxed her tongue, enjoying his salty taste.

He gripped her hair and guided her head, making her feel like a creature made for his pleasure.

Her nipples wrenched upward as she took him to her throat, sending shards of cut-glass pain stinging through her tits. She gyrated—deep, deliberate. Agony in her nipples alternated with torment at her jaw, but only Bryce’s voice could make her stop.

She was dizzy with the sweet
-musk scent of him and relished the feeling of his hand clutching her hair. Hot and horny and determined, she slid her tongue up and down, memorizing his curves, his ridges, his most sensitive areas.

His balls practically disappeared into his body. “Enough.”

Pushing her supine, he removed the clamps.

Fuck
. The searing pain she’d expected when he had first clamped her now blossomed in blinding brilliance. Her raw, bruised nipples ached from their rosy tips straight through to the bottom of her stomach. Part angry and fully aroused, she panted deep as she waited for direction.

He cut through her bindings.

“Get down on your back and Spread.” Bryce’s words were barely intelligible.

She spread her legs as wide as they would go. Her heavy breath shook her body as she watched him slide on another condom.

“You may touch me.”

Her wrists still smarted, but she wound her fingers into his hair anyway. Her back scratched through the blanket against the unforgiving floor. He shoved his cock inside. Her burning nipples crushed against his chest.

As they panted into near-simultaneous orgasm, she dug every fingernail into his back and held tight as he shook. His pulses against the sensitive, ready flesh of her wet pussy made her body coil like a spring. In a flash of light and sweat, her orgasm broke.

She rocked him through the aftershocks, pressing her lips firmly against his neck.

If she hadn’t, she would have spilled words of trust and love.

****

Bryce pulled his car into the empty spot next to hers. Her condo’s his-and-hers parking spaces depressed him.

“His,” of course, was empty.

He shook off the feeling he belonged there and shut off the engine. He didn’t blame Christina for sleeping. They’d damn well sexed the shit out of each other for two days—and she bore the brunt their play. Even now, he assumed her ass was just too tender to support her for the long ride home. She was curled on her side in the bucket seat.

He would have carried her into her condo if he could have lifted her without her waking.

“Time to get up, sleepyhead.” He whispered, even though they were the only two in the lot.

She moaned and curled tighter. Ache swelled beneath his ribs as he thought of her courage—courage to reveal her desire, to acknowledge her need, and to follow him through each scene with absolute trust.

He hadn’t mentioned his growing interest in making their connection one that would last. After all she’d freely given, didn’t she deserve his courage as well?

Not telling her how he felt seemed the worst sort of cowardice. They’d only been screwing for a week, but they’d known each other for almost a year. Didn’t that count for something?

He massaged her lower back. Eventually, they would have to discuss their future.

“Christina, my sweet librarian,
wake up.”

She smiled before she opened her eyes—another thing he loved. He brushed her forehead as her eyes fluttered open.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he replied.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“No worries. You earned it.”

“I’m home?” She asked.

“You’re home, but I don’t want to leave you.” He wished his car was better lit.

Broaching the subject of their future when they were both exhausted was not the best plan, but he couldn’t let her leave, couldn’t let her step out of his car and away from this weekend without knowing what she meant to him.

“I think I may be falling for you,” he said.

Suddenly, she was fully awake, her exhausted eyes opened wide.

“Don’t say that,” she said. “You can’t be.”

“Why not?” He forced his voice to remain even, flat.

“Because it can’t last,” she whispered. “This isn’t real.”

“That’s not true.”
Shit.
His impulsive confession had sucked him into a bad reality show.

“Why can’t we just take this summer as a gift and...” Her words trailed off and she rubbed her face with both hands.

A rushing sensation roared in his ears—the sound of their connection being stretched to its limit. He leaned back into his seat.

Hours ago, her soft lips around his cock had awoken him, giving him a charge so intense she’d wrung a cry from his lips.

She sat up. “What we’re doing isn’t normal.”

“Christina,” he said, “who’s to say what’s normal?”

The crease between her brows deepened.

“We don’t really know each other, do we? These ‘scenes’ could be the way you hide.”

“Hide what?”

She had the grace to blush.
“A hatred of women.”

He’d already lost, damn it. “Come on,” he said, not bothering to hide his anger. “You know me better than that.”

She leaned forward, winced, and rolled to rest on her thigh.

“I should rub some cream on that,” he said. “You’ll chafe.”

He swam, moorless, in her eyes’ confused depths. She blinked and looked away.

“What if,” she whispered, “rough sex is a phase for me? What else do we have?”

He shook his head and looked at the roof of his car.

“Sex and relationships are always in negotiation—vanilla or not.” Nothing he could say would make a difference. Either she’d pull herself pack from panic’s edge or sink. “I won’t argue with you, Christina. You are setting me up—”

“No, I’m not,” she protested.

He clenched a fist on the side she could not see, just to keep himself rational, just to keep himself from telling her,
fine then, get out.

“Let me finish, okay?” he asked.

She squeezed her forehead between shaking fingers. “Okay.”

He waited for her breathing to slow. “You are setting me up to be the one with the answers when there aren’t any answers. We have a special chemistry, but I won’t be accused of pulling you into this.”

“You’re the Dom, aren’t you?”

“Dominant is not the same as all-seeing.”

Her shoulders slumped.

“Vanilla or hot,” he continued, “there is together and there is apart. The choice is always made in faith.”

“Poetry from an English teacher?” Her voice was snide.

He raised a brow. “I hope jabbing me made you feel better.” He put his key in the ignition. “Go home, Christina.”

“Don’t dismiss me!”

“I thought it was the other way around.”

“Wait.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “This is all wrong.”

Waiting was fine with him. He didn’t really want to move anyway, not unless it was back in time. She covered his hand with hers and pulled his fingers from his key. She crawled over the gear stick and into his lap. He didn’t move as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and arms around his head.

“Don’t leave,” she urged. “I’m sorry I said those things.” She tucked her head into his shoulder. “I’m scared.”

He wanted to cradle the back of her head, but he couldn’t cut through the residue of pain from past relationships. In his experience, if someone wanted to set you up as the problem, the situation was doomed, no matter how hot the sex or how much you cared.

“Please, Bryce,” she said. “I shouldn’t have lashed out. My words left a bad taste. Kiss me and wash everything I said away.”

What the fuck?
He looked into her eyes. “Bad poetry from a librarian?”

Her smile was a tremulous olive branch, and the rushing sensation returned. He cupped a palm against the back of her head.

“I scare me, Bryce, not you. The things I want you to do to me scare me. What’s worse,” she put her hands on either side of his face, “I think I’m falling for you too, and that scares me more than your fucking nipple clamps.”

His half-hearted chuckle shook his chest. He closed his eyes. She rubbed his hair away from his forehead and his heart contracted. She’d hit all the right notes; but which was the real Christina?

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked.

“For now, you’re going to take me inside and fall asleep with me in my bed.” She sank onto him and kissed his neck. “As to the rest, well, we’ll figure it out as we go.”

****

Christina swirled her beer, thinking about the odd, disconnected morning she and Bryce had shared. Neither of them mentioned their argument during breakfast and, when he left, he’d merely kissed her on the forehead and told her he’d see her soon.

Only the strength of her friendship with Lisa had drawn her to Lisa’s bachelorette party. She would have rather stayed at home, shut away from the world, taking refuge in wine and romance novels.

Jillian and Lisa returned from the club dance floor all giggles.

“You really gotta get up and move, Chris,” Jillian said.

“She can’t handle any more fun,” Lisa said.

Christina snorted. “Hey, sarcasm is my thing.” She offered her friends a wan smile. “I’m sorry. I’ll get over myself.”

“Trouble with your man?”
Lisa asked.

“He’s not my man,” Christina replied.

“Jerk,” Jillie said. “Screw him if he didn’t know a good thing when he had it.”

“I blew it, Jillie...not him.”

“Uh oh,” Jillie said.

Christina shifted on the bar stool, but she stopped as the friction on her butt became a painful reminder to watch how she moved.

She looked up to see Lisa watching her with a funny expression.

“Hey, Jil,” Lisa said. “Go over and see if you can get the deejay to rock some ‘80s tunes.”

“He’s not gonna,” Jillian said. “He’s all about house music.”

“Try, would you?
For me?” Lisa asked. “Use that famous charm.”

Jillian shrugged.
“Okay, but only because it’s your night.”

Lisa watched Jillian walk away,
then turned back, gaze intense.

“I know that wince,” Lisa said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Christina protested.

Lisa narrowed her eyes. “You are sitting sideways.”

“I was, um, working out,” Christina replied.

“Yeah right,” Lisa said. “Look, I know that position. If things got a little wild with your guy, it’s no big deal.”

Lisa turned her back to Christina and discreetly pulled down the waist of her jeans. Christina caught a glimpse of very red skin.

She snorted. “Shit. How am I gonna look at Ben, now?”

Lisa shrugged. “Look at him like he makes your BFF very happy. Was this your first spanking?”

Christina blushed.
“Yup.”

“And you freaked out?”

“Right again,” Christina said. “But I couldn’t keep my freak out to myself. I had to freak out all over him, too.”

Lisa winced. “That sucks. You’ll be okay, though. It only
feels
like adolescence all over again. Not every reaction is real, Chris. The pain makes everything more intense. You’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what you said back at Malone’s,” she said. “Jillie’s coming back.”

“Jillie knows about me and Ben,” Lisa said. “‘Fess up, she can handle it. She helped me.”

“What’s going on?” Jillie interrupted.

Lisa waved down a waitress and ordered a round of shots.

“You tell her,” Christina said.

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