Bound Hearts 01-12

by Lora Leigh

  She propped herself up on her elbows, watching as he undressed. He tore his clothes from his body, dropping them carelessly onto the floor until every hard, muscular inch was revealed to her avid gaze.

  “Are you attached to that dress?” he growled then.

  She glanced down at the dress in surprise. “It’s just a dress.”

  “Good.” He reach for her, his hands hooking in the neckline, and before her amazed eyes, he tore the fabric from her body.

  Laughter welled inside her and would have escaped her throat if he hadn’t covered her lips with his own, coming over her as he pressed her back to the bed, his legs pushing demandingly between her thighs.

  “I don’t know how long I can wait,” he whispered between the kiss. “I’m dying for you, Kimber. So damned starved for you that I feel as clumsy as a callow youth.”

  “Never clumsy,” she panted as his hands framed her breasts a second before his lips moved to her hard, aching nipples.

  Pinpoints of rapturous sensation began to tingle over her body as his mouth covered one distended tip. His mouth drew on her with a hunger she couldn’t have imagined. She thought she had known him at his most passionate, his most aroused, but she had been wrong. This was Jared, raw, unconcerned with control, but no less intent or powerful for it.

  Her head fell back on the bed as her hands moved over his shoulders, his head, her fingers tangling in the short strands of his hair. She wanted, no, she needed to touch him. She had to feel the bunching muscles of his shoulders, hold his head to her as he sucked at her breast, driving her insane with the pleasure.

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  When his lips began to move lower, his tongue licking over her flesh, she arched to him, knowing that as the fires inside her began to rage out of control, that Jared would once and for all put out the flames.

  “I love your taste,” he groaned as his mouth poised over the aching, wet folds of her cunt. “So sweet and hot, Kimber. I could eat your pussy for hours.”

  “Later,” she begged. “God, Jared, I’ve been in misery for a year now. Make it stop…”

  Her eyes closed as a ragged moan escaped her lips. His tongue swiped between the sensitive lips, circled her swollen clit then moved down to tongue the entrance to her greedy vagina.

  “Damn you, fuck me,” she demanded roughly as her pussy wept with its need.

  “I’ve waited long enough, Jared.”

  She needed him inside her, needed him to fill the empty aching places, not just in her body, but in her soul as well.

  “Condom,” he panted as he pulled himself to his knees, his eyes wild, his face flushed. “…have to find one…”

  “No.” Her hands fell to the jutting length of his cock, wrapping around it as they both groaned at the touch. “I’m protected, Jared. I took care of it. I need you like this.

  All of you.”

  Her eyes met his. Neither of them had known another’s touch without that layer of protection. She needed no protection from Jared. She didn’t want any.

  As though her words had broken the last threads of his control, he lifted her thighs, opening her further as he came over her, pushing her hands from the rigid length of his erection, and positioned himself carefully.

  He was breathing hard and fast, just as she was. Perspiration covered his body, dampened his hair. He stared down at her, his eyes nearly black as he guided the wide, flared head of his cock through the narrow slit of her pussy.

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  Kimberly whimpered with the pleasure. The mushroomed crest was satin soft and hot as fire as he tucked it against her opening.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned, leaning his forehead against hers as he fought for breath.

  “I like the pain, remember?” She tried to smile, but her breath was catching in her chest with each new, violent burst of pleasure. “Take me, Jared. All of me…” He closed his eyes, his hand moving to grip her hip a second before he surged inside her.

  Kimberly’s eyes flew open wide, not from the pain, but from the filling. He stretched her impossibly, working his cock inside her with stiff, hard strokes that had her gasping for breath, had a scream building in her throat with no air to let it free.

  “God, Kimberly,” he groaned desperately as she struggled to take the thick width of his erection. “Fuck, you’re so damned tight. Too damned tight.” She felt the penetration of the thin membrane she had protected for so long. Her back arched as a cry escaped her, her legs lifting to allow her knees to clasp his hips, to open herself further for him.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers biting unconsciously into his skin as the next hard stroke sent him deeper, stretched her further. Each breath was a gasping cry.

  Each inch that sank inside her, another slice of ecstasy she feared she would never survive.

  Finally, his hands gripped her hips hard as he pulled back a second before he pushed inside her, hard and heavy, a spearing impalement that let loose the scream building inside her.

  Electricity sizzled over her flesh as tremors shook her body. She could feel him inside her, every hard, throbbing, heavily veined inch of his cock buried to the last depth of her pussy.

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  She stared up at him as his eyes opened, gasping for breath, her eyes wide, her hips rocking against him. And she could say only a single word. “More…” Jared lost his mind. For a second, for one blissful second he thought he could hold on to the control he needed not to ravish her. But that word, that single word, so filled with hunger, with desperation, tore it from him.

  He came over her fully, catching his weight on his elbows and began to fuck her with all the driving, greedy desperation he had locked inside his soul for a year now.

  His hands tangled in her hair, holding her still as his lips came over hers, his tongue pushing past her lips as he surged repeatedly into the fist-tight depths of her cunt.

  She was tight. So tight she gripped him like a silken vise, the walls of her cunt dragging over his cock and driving him closer and closer to the edge of release.

  Her lips opened to him as eagerly as did the rest of her body, her hands moving over his shoulders. Flames whipped over his body as his chest tightened with a surge of protectiveness and overwhelming emotion.

  His arms cradled her close to him as he felt his scrotum tighten almost painfully at the base of his cock. He gritted his teeth against the whiplash of sensation that began to move up the base of his spine. The slick, satin softness of her tight cunt flexed and rippled around his erection. Tiny fingers of bursting sensation speared inside the swollen flesh, striking with destructive results to the depths of his balls.

  He couldn’t hold back. She was burning in his arms, searing him with her pleasure, her cries urging him to thrust harder, faster, to fuck her with the last measure of strength he possessed. He was helpless against her need, her hunger.

  Jared was shocked at the sound of the ragged groan that escaped his chest as he began to hammer inside her. Quick, deep strokes, the sound of her wet pussy sucking at his cock, driving him over the edge of reality.

  “Jared…Jared…” She was gasping his name, her body tightening beneath him as he felt the first warning contractions of her cunt around his cock.

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  She was close, so close.

  “I love you, Kimberly,” he growled at her ear then, the emotion surging through him like a tidal wave. “Come for me, baby. Come for me now, sweet baby. Right here in my arms.”

  As though his voice was the trigger needed, she bucked in his arms, her breath strangling past her lips, as he raised his head to watch those incredible eyes as the storm took her.

  They were nearly black, wide, unfocused, as a keening cry escaped her lips. Her sweet, sweet pussy clamped down on his cock like the tightest fist as hard, spasmodic shudders began to convulse through her. />
  Then he felt it. The rush of her release vibrated against his erection as her legs tightened further, her pussy flexing, releasing, gripping and sucking at his hard flesh until his head, his heart, his very soul exploded in a release that had a rough, desperate groan tearing from his chest.

  On and on it went. Every pulse of his seed inside the liquid heat of her body was like a whiplash of fiery sensation. His hips pressed deeper, determined to spear into the very heart of her womb as he spilled every drop of his semen into the flexing depths of her cunt.

  When it was over, it was like a puppeteer cutting the strings on his creation. Jared collapsed over her, loath to pull free of the velvet depths of her body. He had to be crushing her, but her arms wrapped tight around his neck, her lips whispered, pleaded that he hold her forever.

  “I love you, Kimberly,” he whispered again, humbled by the emotions that swept through him as exhaustion claimed them both. “I love you…” 125

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  Chapter Twenty-One

  Three weeks later

  “Your mother is insane,” Kimberly accused Jared as she hung up the phone and lowered her head into her hands. “Six months? Six months to plan a wedding?” She gazed up at him pleadingly from where she sat at the kitchen table, her coffee cooling in front of her. “I have to wait six months, Jared? That’s no fair.” He stood across from her, leaning lazily against the counter, his jeans lying low on his hips, the top snap still undone, his chest bare. God, he was so sexy she just wanted to eat him up.

  His dark hair was tousled, his lips still appeared swollen. She barely remembered biting that lower curve as her release rocked her body earlier that morning. Looking at him now, she couldn’t imagine how she had managed to keep her hands off him as long as she had.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he growled sensually. “After last night and this morning, you’re in no shape to follow through on it.” And he was right. She was still amazed that Ian Sinclair had agreed to be the third in their relationship. Ian rarely participated in any of the club members’ relationships, and as far as she had known, he had never acted as third. First maybe, but never third.

  The experience had been wild, erotic, a giving unlike anything she had ever known as Jared held her in his arms, his gaze locked with hers as Ian began to fill her greedy, soaked cunt.

  She shivered now at the memory, staring back at Jared as love exploded in her soul.

  It still amazed her that he was truly hers.

  “Finish your coffee, sweetheart.” His voice was a smooth, sexy rumble as the front of his jeans began to fill out demandingly.

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  She was poised to rise to her feet and attack him when the doorbell chimed, forestalling the sexual intent building like wildfire in her mind.

  She rose instead as Jared held his hand out to her in invitation to follow him. Their home. He took every opportunity to prove to her that the house he so cherished was their home. Not just his, but hers as well.

  “Expecting someone?” Her ever-present smile deepened as his arm curled around her back.

  “Not hardly,” he grunted as they reached the wide oak panel. “Let’s get rid of them fast though.”

  Laughter welled in her throat as he gripped the doorknob and opened it wide.

  Shock held her immobile.

  “Hello, Kimberly.” Daniel Madison stood on the threshold, a gaily wrapped box clutched in his white-knuckled hands as he stared back at her coolly.

  She stiffened, blinking in disbelief.

  “Senator Madison.” Jared’s icy greeting was less than hospitable. “What do you want?”

  He appeared to flinch at the rough tone of Jared’s voice, but his gaze never left hers.

  “I would like a moment to speak with you,” he said austerely. “I promise not to take much of your time.”

  “You’ve said enough…” Jared started to growl.

  “No.” Kimberly pressed her hand to his chest, her gaze never leaving her father’s.

  “I’ll talk to him, Jared. This can’t hurt me now. I promise you.” She felt his denial of her facing the parent who had attempted to control her for so many years.

  “Come into the living room,” she invited him warily. “It’s a bit messy right now.

  We haven’t gotten around to putting all my stuff away yet.” 127

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  They had cleaned out her small house the week before, but boxes still littered the living room, packed with a lifetime of memories that she couldn’t bear to part with.

  Her father nodded, his gaze flickering for a moment, appearing bleak and pain-filled before he glanced away from her.

  She led him into the living room, standing uncomfortably as he stepped past several boxes, still clutching the bright pink and yellow box in his arm. Suddenly, he stopped, his gaze caught by the contents of childish mementos that she had kept over the years.

  Hesitantly it seemed, he reached into it and pulled free a ragged little book. Sleeping Beauty. It had always been her favorite book.

  He blinked rapidly as he cleared his throat.

  “I used to read this to you,” he said faintly. “When you were just a tiny thing. Every night before bedtime, you wanted me to read it to you.” Kimberly watched him curiously. “I don’t remember that,” she said as she thought back, trying to move past the memories of his rage with her mother to the years before the fights.

  He flinched as though she had struck him and carefully laid the book back in its place.

  “You were very small,” he said. “Too young to remember perhaps. Here…” He handed her the box he carried. “I have a gift for you. Your birthday arrives soon and I saw this…” He shrugged, as though uncomfortable.

  Confused, Kimberly took the box. This wasn’t the father she remembered.

  “I apologize for the wrapping.” He cleared his throat again. “I don’t know where my secretary was yesterday. I had to wrap it myself.” She could tell. The paper was uneven, clumsily taped, but for a moment Kimberly had to battle back a sob at the knowledge he had wrapped it himself. He hadn’t done 128

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  that since she was five. And she did remember that. The uneven, clumsily wrapped box he brought her and her mother’s derision.

  You didn’t even care enough to have it wrapped properly, her mother had charged, furious. It’s as clumsy as you are, Daniel.

  Her fingers smoothed over the crookedly tied bow as she blinked back tears.

  Carefully, she untied it, laying the ribbon aside before easing open the paper in the same manner. She would save it. Just as she had saved the ballerina paper he had used so long ago.

  Finally, she opened the long box and simply stared down at the contents in amazement.

  “It was nothing really,” he almost snarled. “I saw it in the shop window. The doll’s face reminded me of you.”

  Reminded him of her? She looked at the little tag on the long white satin wedding gown. It was a Remee, a designer original, and the face resembled her because it was her face. She had long admired the maker’s porcelain dolls but had never been able to justify the outrageous price to own one.

  Long red-gold curls fell down the doll’s shoulders and back beneath a lace and gauze veil. Tiny seed pearls, satin and lace, graced the stunningly white wedding gown, and precious satin slippers covered the porcelain feet.

  “Why?” She ran her finger gently over a row of tiny pearls on the long train of the gown that had been folded carefully to the side.

  She looked up at him then, seeing someone she didn’t know. This wasn’t the father she had fought for so many years. The self-righteous bastard who had, on more than one occasion, all but called her a whore.

  He lowered his head slowly, shaking it helplessly as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

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  “I’ve not been
a father to you since you were five,” he said, almost too low for her to hear. “I won’t excuse myself. There is no excuse, Kimberly. I won’t make one. But I wanted you to know…” he swallowed tightly, “I always loved you. Even when I didn’t want to. When I tried not to. I loved you.”

  He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably as she lifted a slender envelope she glimpsed tucked beside the doll. Curious, she opened it, pulling the papers free. She scanned the legal documents in disbelief before looking at him again.

  What the hell was going on here?

  “It was always meant to be yours,” he snapped then. “If you had married a derelict from the streets, I would not have taken it from you. I married your mother for the money, I admit that. But by God, I didn’t get her pregnant for the money, nor was it an accident.”

  He appeared angry, as he always did. His voice was rough, a little too loud, but this time she saw something she realized had always been there in the past. His pain.

  “I can hear you,” she said softly. “Don’t yell at me, Father.” He grimaced tightly, glancing away again. “I don’t mean to yell.” He attempted to throttle the sound. “My fellow cabinet members are forever chastising me for it.

  Sometimes, I don’t realize…” He broke off again.

  “Why now?” She couldn’t figure that part out. “Why come to me now when I needed you years before?” Her voice was roughening with tears, and she hated that.

  She shouldn’t hurt; she shouldn’t care.

  He cleared his throat again, shifting uncomfortably. “I read her diary. You left it out at Briar Cliff. When you renounced the estate, I was given a letter she wrote me before her death. I went to Briar Cliff to try to make sense of it, and I found the diary.” He blinked jerkily.

  “When you were five, the evening of your birthday, she led me to believe you may not be mine. It’s no excuse,” he snapped furiously. “No excuse for what I did. But while I was reading her words, I realized we hurt you. In our selfish attempts to hurt each 130