Page 58 of Bound

I swallow. “Like I have a secret.”

His hand tightens on my hip. “Good.”

I laugh softly. “Of course you like that answer.”

“I like every answer that tells me you are listening to your body.”

Holding my hips, he rolls me onto my back. The plug shifts inside me, and I moan without wanting to.

Lucian watches my face. Always watching. “Too much?”

I shake my head. “Words,” I say, because I know him. “It’s not too much.”

His mouth curves faintly. “Good girl.”

Heat rushes through me, wet heat that leaves me throbbing. He moves over me, bracing himself on one arm. Still dressed. Still controlled.

Infuriating.

His free hand glides down my side, over my hip, down my thigh. “Tomorrow,” he says, “if something feels wrong, you tell me.”

“Tomorrow?” He has my mind in the clouds.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “Don’t try to be brave, don’t do something rash. Listen to the commands as I’ve made you listen to your body.”

My mouth opens. Closes.

“Patience,” he tells me with a kiss. “My world depends on you making choices that keep you alive.”

My throat tightens. “Lucian.”

I touch his face. “You’re putting a lot on my decision-making skills for a man who thinks I’m reckless.”

His eyes burn. “You are reckless. You’re also smart. And brave.”

“I like working with you.”

“I want to lock you in here until Carlos dies.”

“I know.”

“I won’t.”

“I know.” I pull him down and kiss him.

He holds back for exactly one breath. Then the restraint breaks. His mouth takes mine hard enough to bend my spine, and the plug shifts inside me, sending a startling wave of pressure through my body.

His hand slides between my thighs. The first stroke makes my hips lift. The plug makes every sensation feel deeper, stranger, more intense, as if my body has become a room with another door opened inside it.

“Oh,” I breathe.

Lucian’s mouth brushes mine. “There?”

“Yes. There.”

He rewards me with another stroke, slow and exact. The pleasure builds differently this time. Not wild at first. Concentrated. Heavy. Curling through me in waves that make my hands tighten in his shirt.

“Keep talking to me,” he says.