Bound by Her Passion

by Mara Leigh

  After several long, hard drives, I grab the straps at the front of the bench to give me more leverage.

  Using every one of my arm and leg and back muscles for power, I pound myself into her, using even more force and speed this time, unable to hear or see or sense anything but the pure pleasure concentrated in my balls and cock.

  Then she comes around me, even harder than the last time, crying out, convulsing, shouting my name.

  This time I can’t hold back. I explode with the hardest orgasm of my life, my seed shooting inside her with the force of a fire hose.

  Collapsing over her draped body, I love the feel of her hot damp skin against mine, of her heavy breaths matching mine.

  “More, Gray. Please. I need more.”

  “Princess, I’m going to need a minute.”

  “Then use one of those.” She nods toward the case of goodies.

  My imagination soars. She thinks that fucking is the only thing that will satiate her need, but I’ve got other ideas.

  I take a small butt plug out of the case, then push it inside her pussy.

  “Oooo.” She wiggles her hips. “Too small.”

  “I’m just getting the plug ready.”

  “For what?”

  I slide it between her ass cheeks.

  “Oh!”

  Her asshole tightens when I circle it there, but I press the plug’s tip, lubed with her juices, against her entrance. “Relax.”

  Her tight pucker loosens, just slightly, and I ease the butt plug inside.

  She moans, and I pump it a few times, loving how her ass cheeks pink, how juices continue to flow from her pussy.

  “Shall I try something bigger?” I ask.

  She nods, so I grab a much bigger plug, one both longer and thicker, and once again I plunge it inside her pussy for lubrication.

  She cries out as soon as it goes inside her, and I once again remember how tight she becomes after recovery time. No wonder Rock refuses to fuck her. It’s impossible to imagine his huge rod inside her, now that I’ve seen a glimpse of him.

  I pump the butt plug inside her pussy for a while, then move it to her back entrance. This time she’s more relaxed, and it’s easier to enter, but the plug is long and widens toward its base and it takes a while before I can get it fully lodged, the base against her pink ass cheeks.

  “How’s that?” I ask huskily.

  “Good,” she says. “Different.”

  I lift a flogger, one like a heavily leaved tree branch, but made of leather, and I stroke it over her ass and back a few times.

  “How does that feel?” I ask her.

  “Nice.”

  I bring it down hard against her ass. “And that?”

  “Oh!”

  I do it again, and relish how her body reacts, how her skin glows, how her breaths break, how her hips swivel in pleasure as I come down on one cheek, then the other, back and forth, watching her writhe against her tight constraints.

  Releasing them, I guide her to her feet.

  “Oh, that feels strange.” I watch as she adjusts to a standing position with the butt plug inside her. “Do we leave it there?”

  I nod, then lead her across the room to a corner I don’t think she noticed when we entered.

  “What’s this?”

  I turn her and sit her down on the custom raised chair that positions her sex at just the right height for me, then I fasten a padded belt around her waist to hold her securely at the edge of the seat before bending to fasten cuffs around her wrists, pinning her arms up and to the sides. Finished with that, I kiss her breasts, then put soft cuffs on her thighs and ankles keeping them wide.

  “What are you doing?” she asks as I attach clips to the cuffs.

  “You’ll see.” I use pulleys to spread her legs open and up, testing her flexibility until she’s completely exposed, her knees back near her chest, and her rosy, wet pussy ripe and ready above the disked end of the butt plug still deep inside her.

  Her nipples are hard, and I can’t resist taking one into my mouth. She moans as I lightly flick its tip, then suck hard, drawing the bud between my lips with as much force as I long to use to draw blood from her vein.

  My cock’s throbbing and hard again, but I want more time to recover, so I take a dildo from the case and slowly work it inside her. Once it’s fully lodged I pump it a few times and her hips struggle to move against the motion, or with it. It’s hard to tell which, but her skin is pink, her eyes glassy, her breaths coming hard and thready so I know without words that she’s still enjoying this.

  I eye one of the larger dildos, one that’s a vibrator, and mentally compare its size to Rock’s member. It’s not nearly as thick, but maybe this is a safe way to test Selina’s limits, see how much she can take once she’s stretched out.

  I hold it up to show her.

  Her eyes open wide, but she nods, so I lube it. I slip out the first dildo and quickly replace it with the head of the thick one. She cries out as it pushes past the tight muscle of her opening, but one quick look into her eyes tells me to keep going, so I press it forward, trying to be gentle, trying to ease it forward slowly. But it’s too big. Fuck. And I don’t think it’s as thick as Rock.

  “Force it,” she says. “Push it as hard as you can.”

  “I might hurt you.”

  “I’ll heal.”

  “I don’t want to tear you.”

  “Do it.” The force in her voice takes me by surprise. She’s different tonight and it’s terrifying, exciting.

  I can’t look into her eyes as I do as she wants, and slowly, I push it forward an inch, back a half inch, then forward another inch, progressing deeper into her tight space until it can go no further.

  “Fuck me with it, Gray. I want to feel that huge thing moving inside me.”

  I lean over her and take her lips, plunging my tongue inside her mouth relentlessly, as I take the dildo’s handle and slam it in and out, her increasing slickness helping my progress now, helping it slide.

  She moans against my mouth, her tongue just as active as mine and I sense she may be coming again.

  I break the kiss to look into her eyes, but they’re closed, her mouth open and panting, her stomach muscles contracting and pulsing as I work the huge dildo. Then her body starts to relax and I take the end of the dildo and start to pull it out.

  “No,” she says. “Leave it inside.”

  I push it back where it was, then move my attention to her nipples. Licking and biting and sucking as she moans, and I’ve never heard such a beautiful sound, never tasted such sweet skin.

  I accidentally bump against the dildo, and she gasps.

  Reaching down to make sure it’s still lodged inside her, I remember the switch to turn it on. Pinching one nipple hard, I kiss her equally hard as I press the on button for the vibrator.

  She screams into my mouth, but her kiss intensifies, like she wants to devour my tongue, devour me, and she climaxes again.

  I squeeze both of her nipples tight, then tease the tight buds as she writhes within her constraints and rides out her powerful orgasm.

  Sliding one of my hands between us, I find her clit, unbelievably swollen and hot, and as I graze it, she bites down on my tongue.

  She sucks, swallowing my blood.

  I pull back, nursing my bit tongue as it heals. The kiss turned into a mini feeding and her body is wild, absorbing the vibrations of the huge dildo.

  Her every muscle taut, her legs strain, testing the limits of the pulley system so hard the entire chair creaks, like the wood might break as she tugs against the cuffs around her wrists.

  My cock is solid, raging. Harder than ever.

  Jealous of an inanimate object, I wrench out the vibrator, tossing it to the floor, and then thrust myself inside her.

  It feels so good to be inside her again, but I can tell that she can barely feel me. After that huge vibrating dildo, my thicker than average knob is no competition.

  While kissing her and fucking h
er slowly, I release her wrists, and her hands fall onto my back, and then she reaches down to my butt. Driven by her squeezing there, I increase my pace. But then I have a better idea.

  I pull out.

  “Stay inside me, Gray. Please, I need more. I need you.”

  Her words make my heart sing and my cock throb. “Soon, princess, soon.”

  While I let her pussy recover, tightening far faster than a human woman’s ever could, I find some nipple clamps and place them carefully.

  “That okay?” I ask.

  She nods, so I tighten them a few twists. When she moans, I add one more twist but the tips turn white, so I ease off a bit, then grab the flogger again.

  Instead of spanking her, I drag the leather strands over her torso, gently stroking her and watching her body react each time the flogger’s branches brush over the nipple clips.

  Dragging the flogger lower, I brush it gently back and forth over her pussy and the backs of her exposed thighs.

  “Oh, Gray.” She sighs and I can see her insides pulse. “I knew you were hiding a part of yourself from me, but I never imagined it was this.”

  Her grin is delicious, and I avoid looking into her eyes so she won’t see that this bedroom isn’t the half of what I’ve been hiding.

  “You like my toys?” I ask, licking my lips.

  “Very much.”

  “Want to join me in here again sometime?” I softly stroke her pussy lips with the flogger while we talk.

  “Yes,” she says on a sigh. “But next time, I’m in charge.”

  My cock jumps at that thought, turned on and more than a little nervous about reversing roles. I’ve never done that before.

  “Oh, Gray,” she sighs. “I never thought I could feel like this.”

  “How do you feel, princess?”

  “Pleasure. I feel pleasure all over. Everywhere. Inside and out. Pleasure in places I never knew existed. And I feel powerful but boneless at the same time. Hot and cold. Soothed and in pain. I feel in love.”

  At that, I look up into her eyes.

  My chest constricts. I can’t take it anymore. Forget about pleasing her, my cock is making demands.

  Grabbing the back of the chair for leverage I thrust, driving into her—over and over and over—until I collapse from exhaustion.

  Chapter 33

  Pike

  “Holy shit!” my new host says when he sees me in his kitchen. “It’s you!”

  I brace for a fight, every instinct built up over the past forty years screaming for me to rip out Gray’s throat.

  I take a deep breath, then shake my head. If Gray didn’t want me here, why the fuck give me the code to the front door?

  “Fine. I’ll go.”

  “Go? Why?” He takes a couple of crystal goblet type things and a bottle of booze out of a cupboard. “Cognac?”

  I shrug, and he puts a few inches in each glass then hands one to me.

  He cups the base of his glass, just above the stem and swirls the liquid around, then raises his glass toward me. “Cheers, chap. Welcome to my humble abode.”

  I take a gulp of the drink. It’s smooth and warms all the way down, leaving a taste in my mouth that’s sweet, then smoky, and keeps changing even after I’ve swallowed.

  Gray sets his glass down, and cups it in both palms as he leans against the counter in the middle of his kitchen. “Sorry, about the outburst, mate.” He grins at me. “I just realized something when I saw you.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What?” I take another sip of the drink. It’s a tiny bit like bourbon, but not.

  He rotates the glass between his palms. “You’re the one who fed her.”

  My body tenses. If he’d fed my mate I’d want him dead.

  If my mate was Selina, I’d more than want him dead—he’d already have a stake through his heart. But he doesn’t even seem angry.

  He is the one who got to fuck her, after all. She must be upstairs, resting.

  “You pissed?” I ask.

  “Nah.” He straightens to his full height and I realize he might actually be as tall as me. His wiry build and fancy clothes make him seem smaller. To me, anyway. Not a threat. Someone I could easily take down.

  Looking at his relaxed posture and friendly expression, I shake my head. When was the last time I looked at a man without sizing up whether or not, or how, I would kill him? Have I ever?

  Drafted into that infernal war when I was still a kid, it’s hard to remember a time when my reactions to people were in the same ballpark as normal.

  I don’t belong here.

  I set down the glass and the base clatters against the stone counter. “Shit.” I steady it to make sure it doesn’t break.

  But I’m the thing that’s broken. Smashed into so many spiked shards that I don’t belong anywhere near polite company. And this dude and his fancy pad are the dictionary definition of polite company—whatever comes six levels above polite company.

  I head for the exit. I’ve still got a half hour to find a safe place to crash before dawn.

  Gray’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I freeze, fighting the instinct to turn and fight.

  “Don’t go.” He squeezes my shoulder then claps me on the back. “Come on. Let’s take our brandy into the sitting room.

  “Sitting room?” I say with disdain.

  He grins. “Yeah. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. This house…” He shakes his head. “Is so not me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, seriously.” He hands me my drink, then walks through the grand entranceway to the house, and I follow.

  “My parents did have money,” he says, “or more accurately, they came from money, I suppose. Enough so I didn’t ever really think about how much they had, or where it came from, but you could say I rebelled against all that.”

  “Rebelled?” I glance up at the two-story-high entrance with all its wood paneling and marble floors and fancy paintings. Sure as shit doesn’t look like rebellion to me.

  “Yeah.” Gray goes into one of the rooms off the entrance. “I did the whole hippie thing. Ran off to Morocco. You know the drill.”

  “And yet, here you are.” I take in the room, full of expensive furniture and other shit that’s so fancy even the legs of the chairs are carved like statues.

  He drops into the corner of a couch, crosses one leg over the other and rests one elbow on the arm. Lifting his glass toward me, he nods. “And yet here I am. Please—” he gestures with the glass “—sit. Make yourself at home.”

  I grunt. No chance I could ever feel at home here.

  “I am grateful,” he says, “that it was you who fed Selina—not some stranger.”

  I take another gulp of the drink and it tastes even better than I remembered. If booze like this is what comes with money, I’m all in. “Why won’t you give her your vein?”

  “It’s complicated.” He swirls the booze in his glass.

  “Something wrong with your blood?” I ask, because I can’t imagine a reason not to feed Selina. I’d give her everything and anything she wanted. I’d rip my heart from my chest if I thought that was what she needed.

  “Nothing like that.”

  “Then what the fuck?”

  “I fed her once.” He looks down. “I can’t. Not again. Trust me, it’s a really bad idea. But I’m glad that you did. She needed it.”

  “No fucking kidding.”

  Gray chuckles and then takes a sip of his drink. I take a seat on the leather-covered chair that looks least likely to break and take a swig of the booze.

  “Have you fed from her?” Gray’s voice is deeper now, almost menacing, and he stares at me intently as I decide how best to answer.

  “No.”

  “But you have had a taste.”

  I look down, shame crushing me so hard I’m not sure I can ever move again.

  “When?” Gray’s voice is hoarse, like he’s remembering how she tastes too.

  I keep my eyes focused on the pattern of the r
ug between us, its reds and blues and blacks in repeating swirls. “I didn’t feed from her vein. Someone else made her bleed. I took a taste. I couldn’t help myself.” The memory of her blood, so sweet but filled with power and an exotic flavor I’ve never before sampled—likely never will again.

  “How was it?” Gray asks.

  “As if you don’t know.”

  “I don’t, mate. I really don’t.”

  Shock lifts my gaze. “Bullshit.”

  His expression convinces me he’s not lying. “Really? How the hell is that possible?” He’s fucking her—I’ve heard them in the act—and I can’t imagine the self-control it would take to keep my fangs out of her vein while doing that.

  “Why not?” I ask. I don’t get this man—either of these men she’s with. One refuses to give her his cock, even though she’s practically begged for it, and the other won’t feed from her vein or give her his. It doesn’t make any sense.

  Gray pushes back the dark hair that flops over his forehead and looks up to the ceiling for a moment. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

  “What doesn’t seem right?” Selina asks from behind me.

  I leap out of the chair and turn. She’s leaning against the oak-trimmed entrance to the room, wearing a dark red silk robe that’s way too long for her and I realize it must belong to Gray.

  Jealousy rises inside me. But it’s not like she’s mine, and even if she were, Selina is a woman worth sharing. I’d share her with three-hundred-and-sixty-four other men if it meant I got her one night a year.

  Her skin is flushed and glowing, and I can still sense my blood inside her, part of me mingling with her as it pumps through her body. My cock goes hard, thinking back to the feeding, thinking of how our blood has been joined, even if our bodies have not.

  “Pike.” My name on her lips is like opera. “I’m glad that you came.”

  I nod, unable to take my tongue off the desert-dry roof of my mouth.

  “How are you feeling, princess?” Gray asks her. “Not too constrained, I hope?”

  She looks down for a second as if embarrassed. “I feel great. Thank you for tonight. Both of you.” She floats into the room. At least, it seems like she’s floating to me.