Bound to Ignite (South Jersey Bound Series) Read Free Page B

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    Though he was in charge in his work and life, he’d never played games of dominance and submission in the bedroom. No matter, he’d take full possession of the moment—and of her. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to watch, listen and learn as she showed him exactly how to best stake his claim.
    “How about you describe some more of those fantasies of yours?” he suggested.
    Her hand disappeared into her dress pocket and she withdrew a print.
    “They say a picture is worth a thousand words,” she said with bravado, though the paper shook as she thrust it in his direction.
    The picture was black and white—circa 1950—or pretending to be from that era, anyway. A man, buff, though not unnaturally so, held a woman across his knees. He had pinned one of her arms beneath her and the other, he held behind her back. Her skirt was tossed up above her hips and her panties were slung hastily around her thighs. Her bare ass was directly in line with his raised hand. When he looked closer, he saw a hint of a smile on the woman’s downcast face.
    He breathed a sigh of relief. The photo did not depict any sort of hard-core BDSM fantasy—no whips, no chains, no cages, no collars. Eric admitted some relief that Jillian didn’t want all-out staging. His breath steadied. If this was the kind of scene she wanted, he could more than handle her needs.
    At least his cock was sure he could, anyway.
    “I can look at that picture,” her eyelids fluttered, “for hours, just imagining.”
    He set aside the picture and placed his lips against the soft satin of her hair. He tightened his arms as she snuggled into his neck. Never had a woman fit so nicely in his arms.
    “And what, exactly, do you think about when you are looking at the picture?”
    “I imagine how it would feel to be pinned against your knees.”
    Your knees, she said, not someone’s knees. He didn’t miss the distinction. The rich, husky hunger in her voice made his cock heavy and thick in his jeans. If they didn’t start soon, the pitch was going to be in the air before the batter even stepped up to the plate.
    She covered her face with her hands, but continued to speak from between her fingers. “I think about how it would feel to have your hand come down hard on my ass.”
    He pulled her hand from her face and drew her to her feet. He turned her around.
    “Look at me, Jil,” he urged. “It’s me, okay? No matter what happens, there’s no need to be embarrassed.”
    She peeked up at him as he cradled her face between his hands. “Okay.”
    “We should set boundaries and choose a safe word,” he said.
    “A safe word?” she asked, swallowing. “Do we need one?”
    Her lips quivered. Was it fear? Was it excitement? Eric wasn’t sure. He was damn well feeling both.
    “I want you to pick a word you can use if you change your mind. I don’t want to push you too far.”
    “You wouldn’t.”
    Her trust warmed him. Still, she played with a fire inside him that even he didn’t understand. She had a right to be forewarned.
    “You have no idea what is inside of me…I don’t even know,” he said. “I don’t know how much either of us can take. A safe word only makes sense.”
    He frowned as her gaze fell toward the floor. Well, she wanted him to take charge, didn’t she? He straightened his spine and grabbed her chin, forcing her face back up.
    “Enough, Jillian,” he ordered. “Pick a safe word. It’s not a request this time, it’s a command.”
    She shook in his arms. Her cheeks tinged pink. His stomach muscles clenched. Too far?
    “Peaches,” she whispered, eyes averted.
    Okay, she was fine. He took a deep breath. She was just nervous as hell.
    “Peaches. Nice. They’re sweet and juicy, like you.” He released her chin and settled his lips against her hair, stroking her sweet-smelling softness. “Let’s go into the living room.”
    He took her by her hand and led her to a stuffed chair in the middle of the room. Could he do this?