Page 36 of Bound

“Relax,” Brick exhorted. “Just relax, little girl. I told you I wasn’t going to be easy this time, and we’re only getting started.”

Well, that had her sufficiently riled again. One sweeping jerk of her head and he had an eyeful of her vitally curious stare.

“Oh, you heard me right,” he replied to her silent demand. “Just letting you breathe now. And getting you prepared.”

Prepared for what?

Again, she only shouted it with her eyes. Good thing her aquas were so huge and easy to read. Like a thousand poems he’d never get tired of devouring…

And that was more than enough of that. He wasn’t here to spout Byron and Yeats at her. She’d asked for Prince and Beyonce and AC/DC. She wanted raw and rough and uncensored. He was more than happy to be her go-to guy.

In more than a few ways, maybe this was what they both needed anyway. Maybe this would put the final, satisfying scratch on their electric itch. Once she experienced the true depravity of his dark side, she’d be ready to flip off her switch for him and then fry all the wires. And once he knew the full force of her disgust, it’d be easier to think about getting off this island.

It had to be this way.

It was better this way.

So what the hell? He might as well enjoy the freefall.

“You’ll find out when you find out,” he finally said, addressing her question with deceiving ease. She didn’t hold back on telling him what she thought of the purposeful enigma, narrowing her glower and pursing her lips. Dear fucking God, she was adorable at the height of her feist. “But I guarantee it’ll all be fun…at least for one of us.”

Her reaction was better than what he’d fantasized. Her eyebrows leapt back up, her mouth popped open, her breaths quickened to the point that her breasts bobbed with an alluring new cadence.

He was hypnotized by the sight—but only for a handful of seconds. He hadn’t been lying. They were only getting started. He had some lofty, nasty ideas for this woman’s gorgeous body, and new waves of creative inspiration were hitting by the minute.

But first, one more moment of beholding her face.

How brave she was trying to keep it, despite all the new quirks of fear his promise had brought on. A subtle but palpable flush crawled its way up from her chest, mixing with the bright blue dye dots from the foils still hanging out on her head. Her new color was going to be seventeen kinds of messed-up, especially after the new adventure he was concocting next, but he was beyond caring. A painfully hard dick could do that to a man, especially with an extraordinary woman who forced him to accept every drop of his testosterone.

The hormones that had him wrapping a hand to her nape and hauling her flush to him again.

That had him squeezing hard and jerking on the dry strands at the back of her head, silently ordering her to look up at him.

That had him falling into her beauty all over again, plunging his mouth solidly over hers.

At once, she opened for him. Like he was giving her any choice about it. Nevertheless, he reveled in the willing greed of her dancing tongue. All the gorgeous moans that came with it. All the passion he needed so badly, in every inch of his body and soul.

He needed…

And was going to take.

Until the ache persisted too hard. Or he straight-up died.

But damn it, what a way to go. This was good. So fucking good. She was so fucking perfect.

He necked with her like that much longer than he’d intended, but she tasted so much better than he remembered. Her natural jasmine and roses were sweetened by something else. Something with…caramel? Coffee? Tea? Candy? He didn’t care. The odd combination was his new crack.

But even junkies had to come down if they wanted their highs to be better.

He groaned, forcing his brain to accept that. Though he abhorred even the few inches between them now, he concentrated on the good shit to come.

The things he was about to command of her.

The erotic places he was going to take her to.

The no he prayed she’d banned as much as him.

“Checking in, sweetheart. You still okay?”