Page 101 of Bound To Be Mine

He unhooked my bra, tossing it aside. His mouth found my breast, tongue circling my nipple before sucking it into his mouth. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“Briggs,” I moaned.

His hand slid between us, fingers finding my center. I was already wet. He stroked through my folds, his thumb finding my clit and circling with just the right amount of pressure.

“So wet for me,” he murmured against my skin. “Always so ready.”

“Always,” I agreed breathlessly.

He slid two fingers inside me, sliding over that sensitive bundle of nerves that made my toes curl. I rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was building.

“I need you inside me,” I said. “Now.”

“I have to get a condom.”

“Do you?” I murmured. I surprised myself. “I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

He stopped and looked at me. “I haven’t been with anyone in… well, a long time. I’m good.”

I grabbed his face with both hands. “Then please, fuck me.”

He positioned himself at my entrance. Our eyes met and he slowly pushed inside me. I nearly wept with the immense pleasure. I gasped as he filled me completely. The stretch, the fullness—God, it was perfect. But this time felt different. No barrier between us. Just him and me, skin to skin, connected in the most intimate way possible.

“Oh God,” I breathed, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “You feel so good.”

“You have no idea,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips. “Feeling you like this—fuck, Mandy.”

I started to move, rolling my hips in slow circles. His eyes locked on mine. Whatever was happening felt like it was more than just physical pleasure.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice rough. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whispered. “All yours.”

He thrust up into me. I cried out. The angle was perfect, hitting that spot deep inside that made stars explode behind my eyelids. I moved faster, chasing the building pressure.

His mouth found my neck, sucking and biting in a way that would definitely leave marks. I didn’t care. I wanted his marks on me. Wanted evidence of this moment, this connection.

“Look at the city,” he murmured against my skin. “Look how beautiful it is.”

I turned my head, taking in the sprawling lights of Manhattan. We were so high up, so exposed. Anyone in the buildings across from us could look over and see us. The thought should have mortified me, but instead it made me clench around him.

“You like that,” he said, feeling my reaction. “The idea that someone might see.”

“Maybe,” I admitted breathlessly.

His hand slid between us, fingers finding my clit. He rubbed in tight circles while I rode him, the dual sensation pushing me closer to the edge.

“Come for me,” he commanded. “I want to feel you.”

The orgasm hit me like a freight train. I came hard, crying out his name, my body clenching around him in waves of pleasure. He followed seconds later, burying himself deep and groaning my name.

Both of us were breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

“I feel eighteen again.” He chuckled. “I’m impressed with myself.”

I laughed. “Good job. Really, good job.”

I lifted my head to look at him. His hair was a mess from my fingers. His lips were swollen from kissing. He looked thoroughly debauched and absolutely perfect.