Bound to Love Read Free

kiss was fierce and possessive, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, taking all I was for himself. I gave it willingly. For this last time, I’d love him without stint and without fear.
    When he lifted his head, he released one hand so he could cradle my cheek and jaw. It was a measure of how far we’d come that he did that, and trusted me not to touch him. As always, I wondered what he would do if I touched him. Would he lash out at me, or flinch away? And why couldn’t he bear this? Sometimes phobias can come from incidents we barely remember, or something that we couldn’t explain. I knew now, because I’d done some research, but nothing in Troy’s background indicated anything that would have made him this way.
    Going to the chest of drawers, he took the familiar black box out of the top drawer. He dialed the combination and opened it. “Why do you keep them there?” I asked him.
    He lifted the handcuffs. Four pairs, to shackle me. They had safety buttons so I could let myself out if I wanted to, but I hadn’t used them. I trusted him on that at least. On our first night he’d terrified me until he’d shown me the black buttons that would release me. What idiot let someone they’d only just met handcuff them for real? But he needed the fastenings. The jingle sometimes turned me on. Like I was Pavlov’s dog, my sex dampened, readying itself for him. I didn’t get off on being fastened, but what he did to me when I was in them—oh, mama!
    As he walked to the bed with a steady, purposeful stride, he glanced at me as if to reassure himself that I was still there.
    I began to undress. Sometimes he’d strip me, but I would have to stand still. I found I could bear not touching him most if I put my hands behind my back and clasped them together. But other times, like tonight, I’d undress myself and let him watch.
    He turned on the lights by the bed, and switched off the others, except for the ambient light that gave the room a warm, barely-there glow. Undoing only a few buttons, he dragged his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. Sometimes it made me smile to see how untidy he was. He had no concept of cleaning up. He’d been born into wealth and always had somebody to do it for him. That didn’t make him heedless of what the people who worked for him did, though. He always thanked his staff and ensured they were paid above average wages. Including me. I guess I’d been an employee, technically, because he’d paid the escort agency for dates with me, and his tips were staggeringly generous.
    He didn’t have to pay for an escort now, and I knew he wasn’t seeing anybody but me.
    Wide shoulders gave way to a broad chest with beautifully defined muscle. He would sometimes work out until he couldn’t move, but he’d been used to showing his body off. A bonus for me, but looking at that fantastic body and not being allowed to touch it held its own particular torture. Oh, he could touch me, but I couldn’t touch him.
    Well fuck that, I thought on a spurt of defiance. If he didn’t tell me the reason tonight, I wouldn’t let him do it again. He could find somebody else to tie up and fuck. Seeing the women thronging around the stage entrance tonight, I knew he wouldn’t have to wait for long.
    He dropped his watch and phone on the nightstand. I did the same, added my glasses, and put my purse by the side of the bed. “You’re not working at the museum tomorrow,” he said as he saw me put my phone down. I used the alarm when I stayed with him.
    “No, but I am working at the restaurant.” I worked as a waitress in an upmarket, though pretty nondescript restaurant three nights a week, and worked days somewhere else when I wasn’t at the museum. “I’m on the afternoon shift.”
    He sighed. “Lunch and dinner?”
    I nodded. With a swift motion, Troy stripped the cover and top sheet down, exposing the thousand-count smooth white sheets. My hands went to my pants and I unzipped them, then paused,