Page 80 of Bound

Drifting nearer to her side of the water instead of attempting to swim the hell out of here? Helping himself to another push from the tide in order to lurch up to the ledge himself? Murmuring her name as a guttural plea while crawling up behind her—and then over her?

What the living crap?

No, no, no, no!

But every chamber of his mind resounded with the opposite. Every voice in his senses screamed like a different demon of the unholy possession she had over him. The unignorable bond. The connection he couldn’t refuse, as long as he could reach her. Touch her. Flatten his chest along her back and form his lips against her neck…

“Do. Not.” The words reverberated up her throat before forming a tangible bubble of fury around them.

“Can’t. Stop,” he finished with a hiss as the heat at the center of his body softened the fabric encasing the center of hers. “Can’t…be away from you.”

“Brickham.” It was a cry and a breath together, a plea like none other she’d ever given him. “Please.”

“Can’t. I’m sorry, Pixie. I can’t…”

The appeal in his own rasp was just as strident now. Not far behind was a stronger jolt of his self-loathing. You’re not that guy, damn it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I just…can’t…”

Help myself.

Because apparently, he was that guy. The pussy-whipped clown who had no idea where his cock was leading. The stricken fool now consumed by the female beneath him. She wasn’t even trying. But damn it, what she was doing. Her smell, musky and potent. Her sounds, airy and inebriating. Her movements, small yet intense.

Stroking against him even more.

Tying him to her even tighter…

But not close enough.

As he reached around, finding one damp nipple and then the other, Jayd set another couple of cries loose on the air. Again, they echoed a thousand times—revealing the high pitch of arousal beneath her snarling anger.

“I’m sorry,” Brick mumbled into her neck again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Liar,” she bit out.

“Guilty.” He dug his teeth into the bottom of her ear. Another whimper from her. Heavy gasps that shoved her erect nipples back against his fingers.

“I hate you.”

“I need you.”

“Brickham. Please. Oh…please…” Her syllables slurred together, a cocktail of carnality that infused his blood better than any drug. But was it her rage still doing the talking? Or something else that boiled through her blood? It made her breathe harder. Had her fully trembling now.

And him too.

“Brickham. Damn it! Oh…ah!”

It was an insane risk. But for a fleeting second, his mind left him—and he really did shove her leggings down. He got them halfway down before having to stop, processing the reality of the sight before him.

Shit. This was really happening. She was really here again. Beneath him. Exposed to him. Offering herself to him. God, yesss.

He wasn’t taking any of it for granted.

At once, he used a hand to pull back one of her damp ass cheeks. The other, he scooped toward the core of her sex…

The tightness of her pussy…

The perfect river of her lust…