Bound (Forbidden Series - Book 1)

by Anne, Melody

  When she got up and looked through the peephole, she saw a suited man standing there with a small envelope in his hand. Maybe Blake had forgotten he was having something delivered.

  The telephone stopped ringing at exactly the same time as she opened the door. The man who stood there smiled down at her before holding out an electronic tablet for her to sign. “Jewell Weston?”

  She was taken aback when he said her name. She blinked at him without answering for a minute, wondering whether she should admit who she was. That was ridiculous. Obviously Blake or Ms. Beaumont had sent something to her.

  “Yes, that’s me.” She signed and then accepted the envelope. “Have a great day.”

  Once the man left and Jewell shut and locked the door, she went to the dining room and found a penknife. Cutting open the sealed envelope, she discovered a brief note.

  Turn your phone on and answer my calls!

  Blake

  She’d completely forgotten about the cell phone the agency had sent with her. She was allowed to use it only when out with a man who had hired her, but as soon as she returned to the agency, she was to return the phone so he couldn’t try to contact her without paying first. She was perfectly okay with that. But was he going to use her phone to try to harass her? Nah. No guy could be that much of a control freak.

  When the phone powered up, she saw that six text messages were waiting for her. What in the world? Opening the message box, she found they were all from Blake. He’d programmed his number into the phone.

  You must stay in contact with me always.

  When I call you, answer the phone.

  Never turn this device off.

  Why aren’t you answering me yet?

  Where in the hell are you?

  If I have to come back to the apartment, you will not like the results!

  That last message had come in only two minutes ago. Knowing she would rather talk to him by text message than in person, Jewell quickly figured out how to type a response.

  I didn’t answer your phone because I don’t live here and didn’t think it would be from you. And I didn’t answer the texts because I forgot all about the cell phone. I’m at the apartment. Haven’t left.

  Within thirty seconds, he replied:

  Now you have the phone. Keep it on you at all times.

  She smiled at the annoying message. She could almost hear the frustration in his voice, though she didn’t understand it. Man, was he bossy.

  Yes, sir! Adding the exclamation point was her salute. She wished she could give him another.

  Ice cream is NOT a healthy breakfast.

  Jewell’s head snapped up and she looked around the room. How in the world had he known she’d eaten ice cream for breakfast?

  Yes, I have cameras, and yes, I can see you right now.

  At that message, Jewell’s eyes widened in shock. Of course he had cameras, and of course he was spying on her. Hmmmm. With a confident smile she looked around the room and then did something she hadn’t done since she was a child. Lifting her hand into her hair so her intention wasn’t quite so obvious, she stuck up her middle finger and smirked. Take that!

  When two minutes went by and no further messages had arrived from Blake, she began to worry that maybe, just maybe she’d pushed this controlling man a little too far with her rude gesture. What if he was already in his car and driving immediately there to get his revenge? Should she apologize? Before she could make a decision either way, another message popped through.

  You will be quite a pleasure to tame. Go do your workout.

  Ugh. Jewell wanted to scream. The last thing she wanted to do right now was climb on exercise equipment. She had little other choice unless she wanted to get kicked out of this man’s life and then lose her job, so she glared up at the walls of his apartment, hoping he was watching, and made her way down the stairs.

  For just a few moments, she had forgotten about the toy still inside her. Walking down the stairs, even slowly, reminded her very quickly. It shifted against her sensitive inner walls and then immediately started vibrating again, and she found herself panting before she even stepped up onto the elliptical trainer.

  When she’d programmed a workout and began running, the object continued to shift, continued to vibrate. Jewell felt pressure begin building within her body; her nipples felt like rocks, and the speed of her breathing had nothing to do with the exercise.

  When she tried to push through it, the intensity of her sensations built up, and then suddenly, when she took a step, pleasure that felt like fire shot through her, leaving her nipples pulsing and a fine layer of sweat coating her body.

  Her legs gave out and she barely made it off the machine before crumpling to the floor like a mass of jelly.

  Her phone, which was sitting on the small table by the door, began dinging, indicating new messages, but she couldn’t move. Lifting her hand in the air to assure Blake she wasn’t dead, she then dropped her hand back down and tried to recover from her intense orgasm — her first orgasm ever. Man, had she been missing out! Why in the world hadn’t she discovered this before now? The phone dinged again, and she just waved her hand again to the candid cameras and then flopped over on her back, a satisfied smile on her lips.

  It took several moments for her to recover, and two or three more messages sounded off on her phone, but she didn’t care. Let him come home and punish her, or do whatever he wanted with her, because right now, her body was on fire, and she was ready for whatever he could give her. Orgasms were weird things, like potato chips — you couldn’t have just one, it seemed.

  She decided she liked this new toy. She liked it a lot. She also decided she didn’t mind exercise one little bit.

  Chapter Ten

  “How was your day?”

  Jewell looked up from the couch as Blake approached her. Exhausting! That’s how her day had been. Thanks to his contraption, which she still held obediently inside her very tender core, she’d been pleasured more than she thought possible.

  She wouldn’t tell him that she’d also searched the apartment for any clues at all of who he was. Sure, he’d know that she’d been wandering around, at least if he’d bothered to watch all day, and that seemed unlikely. He hadn’t gotten so freaking rich by being a voyeur 24/7. In any case, she’d come up empty. There was nothing personal anywhere. No photos except for the one of him and his brothers that he seemed to resent hanging on his wall. Nothing.

  She’d even looked in drawers, in cupboards. Yes, it was a violation of his privacy, but he’d brought her to his place and then left her there to fend for herself. If she was going to be with this man for a week, she wanted to know something about him. She was truly out of luck.

  Too bad his office was so tightly locked. Curiosity about what was hidden inside was still eating at her. That was where men hid their deep dark secrets, wasn’t it? She would love to get in there. She’d bet all the money she had, which admittedly wasn’t much, that there was something telling about the man behind that sealed door.

  When she realized she was taking too long to answer him, she tried to remember what he’d asked. Oh, yes, he wanted to know about her day. Well, she wouldn’t admit to him how much of an impact his little toy had had on her. Not even if he threatened to pour fire ants on her if she didn’t confess. Still, to judge by the smug look on his face, he already knew. So maybe he had been glued to his computer screen, watching while she’d nearly collapsed almost everywhere in his apartment as each new orgasm had overpowered her body, sucking up any and all energy.

  “It was fine,” she replied, hoping she was as expert at keeping a mask in place as he was.

  He gazed at her for several moments with those penetrating eyes, making her break out in yet another sweat. She wanted him, and again she hated herself for it. It seriously undercut her inner claims about worthy self-sacrifice, and made her actually feel even dirtier than she had right after she’d accepted the job from Relinquish Control. A hooker with a heart of gold? Ha
h! Try with a heart full of lust.

  “I’ll let you lie to me for now,” he said with a knowing smile. “But I watched you all day, and I know that your body has been in a constant state of arousal from the moment you inserted that toy. I know that you are dripping wet and ready for me to plunge deep inside your heat.” He put his hands on the back of the couch and leaned in, letting his warm, sweet breath wash over her face. “And, Jewell,” he added, making her barely able to hold the gasp back, “I’m going to fuck you hard tonight.”

  He moved away and, removing his hand-tailored jacket, dropped it carelessly on the arm. His white fitted shirt showcased every muscle in his back as he unconsciously flexed his arms. Next, he removed his cuff links and was rolling up his sleeves when he turned back around to find her staring at him, stunned.

  She felt as if she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. This man had nearly made her reach orgasm again with just his words and the caress of his breath on her mouth. She only hoped she’d be able to survive her week with him, because right now she didn’t know how that was possible.

  “Go upstairs and put this on.” He sauntered toward her, a bag in his hand that he’d previously deposited, along with his briefcase, right inside the living room.

  Jewell took the bag without question, though she was hardly eager to learn what he was going to inflict upon her next. She rose and ascended the stairs with as much grace as she could muster, cursing her body when she felt new moisture flood her lower regions, and her nipples jut straight out in the telltale sign of arousal. They’d been hard most of the day, but they’d somehow become even harder.

  When she reached her room and emptied the bag’s contents on her bed, she groaned. There would be nothing she could hide from him in this getup. He knew that, and he’d doubtless enjoy every second of her torment.

  Discarding the clothes she had on, she slipped on the itsy-bitsy skirt — it barely covered her behind! Of course there were no panties to go with it. Was this another way for him to keep control? To keep her uncomfortable? To keep her vulnerable?

  Next she fastened the bustier, shoving her breasts up high, her nipples on full display from the garment’s daringly low-cut front. After slipping on the five-inch red heels, she turned and gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

  Her skin was already flushed, her eyes bright with the pleasure she’d been receiving all day, and her body trembling just slightly. The outfit did nothing to hide any of this. He would know that each step she took sent shudders through her, know that when his breath brushed her skin, she grew more aroused. He would know that she didn’t need to fake anything with him.

  Should she even try? What point would there be to try to hide her reactions? Maybe it would be better if she just walked up to him, told him she was ready, and got the sex over with. Maybe after she was free of the stupid device, she would go back to normal. And maybe his game would be over once he possessed her.

  Maybe she would be the next Olympic gold medalist in the category Lying to Oneself.

  Carefully descending the stairs — she didn’t want to put her insides into any more turmoil than she had to — she paused halfway down when she heard the doorbell ring. She felt trapped, not sure which way to go. Blake doubtless hadn’t heard her yet, and she didn’t want to be anywhere near the living room or kitchen if someone entered the apartment. As quietly as she could, she retreated up the stairs, and just as she reached the top, another orgasm pulsed through her core, causing her breath to rush out in awed celebration. She couldn’t hold back the whimper of pleasure, but she bit her lip to prevent any further sound from giving her away.

  Collapsing onto the upstairs landing, she waited for the shudders to subside and prayed no one had heard her. When Blake appeared below, his eyes dancing with desire, she knew the cat was out of the bag.

  “Come down,” he ordered, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  Holy hell! That chest of his was something dreams were made of. He was far too perfect looking to be the emotional mess that he obviously was. No mere mortal should possess such looks, such poise, such money. He had it all, and it wasn’t fair to the people he trampled under his feet.

  “Give me a moment,” she said. She was afraid she might not be able to walk yet.

  “Now!” His tone was firm as he made a show of letting his shirt land at the foot of the staircase.

  With a defiant pursing of her lips, she gripped the banister and pulled herself to her feet, though her legs were still weak. She knew it was going to send sharp pains through her body to move this soon after another orgasm, knew that each step would be torture, but she didn’t want him to come up and get her. She had no idea what would happen then. Of course, she also had no idea what would happen if she met him down there at the bottom of the stairs.

  Taking the steps slowly, she tried to blunt the impact of the toy rubbing her swollen walls. She forced herself to focus on anything else than that. This was going to be a long evening if he made her keep the damned thing in the whole time.

  “Sit.”

  “What?” She was confused. She had four stairs to go.

  “I said sit.”

  Gladly, she thought as she sat with her knees together, squeezing her thighs tight, trying to give her body some needed relief. “Is someone here?”

  “No. Our dinner was delivered. The woman who brought it is gone.”

  That’s a relief, Jewell thought.

  “Open your legs.”

  Her eyes almost bugged out. She wasn’t wearing panties, and he couldn’t help but see the moisture coating her womanhood. She also knew that to argue would be pointless.

  Leaning her head back, unwilling to make eye contact when she was in such a vulnerable position, she spread her legs, then braced her heeled feet on the stairs and moved her thighs even farther apart.

  A gasp of honest appreciation from him brought on an extra surge of moisture, and she hoped like hell she wasn’t dripping onto his polished wooden staircase. So mortifying. But constant humiliation seemed to be the name of his game.

  “Damn, you are glorious,” he whispered reverently.

  Okay, so that wasn’t exactly humiliating. With her eyes closed, and trying her best to do her job, she didn’t hear him move, but suddenly she felt his finger rubbing from the top of her core, along her swollen clit, down her slick folds and then back up again.

  “Push your hips forward, and grab the railing,” he whispered huskily, and Jewell couldn’t do anything other than comply.

  When she felt the heat of his breath brush against her swollen nub, her body clenched with need. At the first swipe of his tongue against the bit of pulsing flesh, she jumped.

  “Stay still,” he said, pulling his mouth away.

  That made her want to scream. A low rumble sounded from deep in her throat, and for the next few seconds all she felt was his warm breath again, teasing her sensitive pleasure point almost intolerably.

  She wanted to beg him to go back to what he’d done with his tongue, but she couldn’t do that. This wasn’t about her needs. He needed to be in control. He needed to have her do his bidding. If he knew how tortured she felt, he would only torture her more.

  So with all the willpower she possessed, she waited in silence for what he would do next. When his lips circled her clitoris again, she didn’t even try to contain the moan. While sucking the little mound into his mouth, he simultaneously pushed a finger inside her, moving it around the toy still resting there, and a cry of pleasure escaped from her lungs as she convulsed against the hard stairs.

  When she finally came down from the high, she raised her head slowly, and found his silver gaze burning into her.

  “You are so responsive,” he said with a shudder as he got up and then sat next to her, putting his face only inches from hers. She wanted those lips, wanted to feel him pressed against her. How could she possibly want or need anything more after all he’d put her through this whole day? She didn’t know, but suspected that the games were
just beginning.

  He leaned forward and gently clamped his teeth down on her bottom lip and sucked, sending a whole new level of desire throughout her small frame. Just as confusingly as this sexual play date had begun, he ended it by casually leaning back and then standing up.

  What was next? Should she get up, hold out her hands to him, beg him to take her to bed? No. None of that would make him happy. So, once again, she just waited. This was getting a little old.

  “Time for dinner.”

  With those words, he left her panting on the stairs. She wanted to yank out the device he’d made her insert, and wanted to demand he stop toying with her this way. She did none of that, of course. Instead, she struggled up on unsteady legs and followed him into the dining room.

  A table was set with candles already lit and soft music playing in the background. Why the seduction scene? She was already paid for, a guaranteed lay. And yet he held out a chair for her.

  But when she sat down, he leaned over her and asked, “Ready for round two?”

  Hot damn!

  She was more than ready.

  Chapter Eleven

  While pushing Jewell’s chair in, Blake brushed her shoulder with his hand, and desire shot through him. He moved his seat closer to hers. None of that across-the-table nonsense of civilized dining for two. He needed her to be next to him, needed to feel the softness of her skin against his fingers.

  The buildup, the anticipation, the hunger of playing these games with her — this was the greatest he’d felt in a long time. He needed to see how far he could push her, how far he could push himself. He’d never before had so much enjoyment with the preliminaries and actualities of sex. He would never have waited so long to possess any woman other than this one. Sure, the buildup always had its charms, but if Jewell were someone else, he would have bedded her the night before, and several times today as well, and he’d already be tiring of her.

  This woman had him thinking twice, though. The way she held herself, the burning in her eyes, the confusion. She was a mystery and he swore he couldn’t stand any mysteries involving women — why waste the time solving them? — but he wanted to know her, wanted to learn her story. He also wanted to get as far away as possible from her, but he couldn’t make himself do that.