Bound to Submit

by Laura Kaye

  A warm pressure expanded within her chest. What was he doing to her? Because right now, his words were wrapping around her as tight as his ropes ever did.

  He guided her to the futon, and they sat down. Close. Facing each other. Her knees drawn up against his thighs.

  “Can we talk? Please? Can I explain?” He stroked the hair back off her face.

  When he asked like that, his voice so full of yearning, she couldn’t resist. “Yes, Sir.”

  He shook his head. “Tonight we’re just Griffin and Kenna. I don’t want you to feel like there are rules here. It’s just you and me talking and trying to figure things out, okay?”

  God, that was what she needed to hear, too. “Okay.”

  He released a troubled sigh. “I messed up, Kenna. Five years ago.” He shook his head, and his hand dropped down to lightly massage her shoulder. “I know that. Hell, I knew it then within a few weeks. I know that my messing up cost you in so many ways. When I think of all the pain you might’ve been spared if I’d just fucking grown up and manned up when you needed me to—” He chuffed out a humorless breath. “I honestly don’t know how you could ever forgive me for that.”

  She frowned, unease stirring in her belly, but he plowed on before she could put her finger on the source of it.

  “Obviously, I can’t take back what my actions caused,” he said, looking at her ruined arm. “So maybe I shouldn’t even be hoping...or asking...but I’m here. And I am.” His dark eyes blazed at her.

  “Wait, Griffin, why does it sound like you’re apologizing for my amputation?”

  “Because I am, Kenna. I’m apologizing for pushing you away and into harm’s way, getting you hurt. God, that’s why I lost control in the lounge tonight. I was just shell-shocked by the realization that I’d failed you so much worse than I already knew I had.” His shoulders fell, and Kenna hated the defeated air rolling off of him.

  “Griffin, my amputation is not your fault. I won’t let you take that on, and I don’t want you to. I don’t regret becoming a Marine. For a few years, I’d finally found myself. I loved being a Marine. I loved my work. I’d never had that before, not once. And I was good at it. Don’t make my service something negative for you, because I feel like that takes something away from what it meant to me. I hated losing you so much, but I don’t regret serving my country. Even after everything.”

  As the words spilled from her mouth, she realized how true they were. Why had she never thought of it this way before? Because she truly didn’t regret her service. And she’d never once wished she hadn’t joined the Marines. She shook her head.

  “Honestly, my only regret is that George had to die so I could live. That’s the only part I would do over if I could.”

  He laced his fingers with hers, and his thumb stroked her skin. “Okay,” he said. “I hear you. It’s just hard to see the chain of events and not read cause and effect into them.”

  “I get it. Trust me,” she said.

  “If you get it,” he said, his voice going so, so soft. “Then why do you blame yourself for Georgia’s death?” He squeezed her hand.

  The question made her breath catch. “I...because...” She ducked her chin, her mind reeling.

  “Talk to me, baby. You told me you wanted to feel good again, and I thought that was because of the pain of your arm. But now, I’m wondering if what you really meant was the pain of losing your best friend and teammates.” His hand petted her hair, and the feeling would’ve been comforting if his questions weren’t making her examine all kinds of things she really didn’t want to explore that deeply.

  “It’s...it’s all of it, Griffin. The physical pain, the grief, the guilt.” Her throat got thick, but of course her fucking eyes remained dry. “One of the doctors specifically told me that I’d survived because Georgia blocked the brunt of the impact, though, so I’m not taking on any guilt I don’t deserve.”

  His expression went fierce. “Christ, that’s bullshit. I’d like to show that sonofabitch the brunt of some impact, that’s for damn sure.” Kenna’s eyes went wide as Griffin shook his head. “That was a horrible thing for anyone to say to you, let alone a doctor, and especially to someone who was probably already in a vulnerable state. I’m sorry he planted that in your head, because even if the physics of it are true, that still doesn’t make you responsible for her death.”

  Kenna’s chest squeezed around a strange, intense, uncomfortable sensation. “But—”

  “No, Kenna. Come on. Did you plant that IED?” His dark brow arched over flashing brown eyes.

  She knew what he was doing, and she just looked at him.

  “Did you tell your teammates to trip it? Did you push them into it? Would your death have prevented theirs?” he fired out.

  “No, no, I don’t know,” she said, hugging her knees tighter to her stomach.

  “If Georgia had been the one to live, and you...you had died,” he said, his voice suddenly strained. “Would you have expected her to feel guilty? To feel like it was her fault? To feel like she could never truly live because you hadn’t?”

  The stinging sensation behind Kenna’s eyes was suddenly so intense that she pressed her thumb and forefinger against them, because he was pegging her all over the place. “No,” she managed. “I would never have wanted that for her.”

  Griffin pulled her hand away from her face. “Right, baby. So no way would she want that for you. You two were Marines. You both were both kick-ass women who knew the risks. And you were best friends, so you clearly cared about each other. I don’t have to know anything else about Georgia to know she’d want more for you. She’d want everything for you.”

  “Griffin,” Kenna said. She leaned forward and buried her face against his neck.

  His arms wrapped her up tight. “I want everything for you, too. At least, I’d like the shot at the right to give it to you. If you’ll let me.”

  She lifted her gaze to his, the conversation making her head spin and her heart hammer and her stomach flip. “What are you saying?” she asked, dangerous, dangerous hope snaking through her veins.

  “I want us to start over. To try again. To see if we can get back what we had, what I screwed up five years ago,” he said with a fierce conviction.

  “Part of me wants that, too. Part of me thinks that sounds so amazing.”

  “But...?” he asked.

  “But I’m a mess, Griffin. Obviously. That’s why I ran. You make me feel so much, maybe too much. I’ve been running from my feelings for the past two years, and now feeling all this, it hurts. Even the good feelings,” she said, stunned at her own admission. “That’s not fair to you—”

  “Hey,” he said, cupping her cheek with his hand. “Let me decide what’s fair to me. I can handle whatever you throw at me, Kenna. I’m not going anywhere. I’m a different man than I was five years ago. I know what we had and I know what it could’ve meant. And I’m mature enough to know what I want—and that it’s you. However you are. Right now.”

  “Oh, Griffin,” she said, so badly wanting to take a leap of faith with him, and so scared that it would leave them both broken again.

  “Say yes,” he said. He brought their faces close, and his was filled with an intensity that reached right into her chest. “Let me help you feel good again. Say yes, baby.”

  God help her. What was she going to do?

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Yes,” Kenna said, the room threatening to spin around her. Of all the things she thought might’ve happened after returning to Blasphemy, this hadn’t even been on the list.

  “Aw, Christ. Thank you,” Griffin said just before his mouth came down on hers. The kiss was tenderness and passion, forgiveness and desire. It was everything.

  Slowly, they pulled apart, their foreheads resting together. “I’m kinda scared shitless,” she whispered. “But I’d like to try again. With you.”

  They both chuckled, and it was a sound filled with humor and relief and a little euphoria. At least for her.


  “That makes me so damn happy, Kenna. You don’t have anything to be scared of. I won’t let you down this time, I promise,” he said.

  She could see in his face that he meant it, too. But she didn’t want them to get ahead of themselves. Because though she was in this now, she still had doubts—about herself. “Let’s not make promises. Not yet. Let’s just get to know each other again. Spend time. Have fun. See what feels right.”

  He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “You feel right to me. But, okay. As long as it involves you and me together, I can do that. Whatever you want.”

  Kenna smiled and a shiver raced over her skin. “Okay.” She sagged back against the couch, suddenly tired but feeling so much better than before. “I didn’t expect this when I went back to Blasphemy. I was just happy you didn’t turn me away.”

  Griffin relaxed next to her, his fingers lacing with hers. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Aw, Kenna. Never. I didn’t expect to see you again at all. So this is so much more than I ever hoped for.”

  They sat quietly for a moment, and Kenna yawned. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  He quirked a little smile. “Don’t be. I should let you get some sleep,” he said. “When can I see you again?”

  “Um, I do some public speaking, and I think I have talks to give on Wednesday afternoon and Friday evening, but otherwise my schedule is pretty open right now,” she said. But what she really wanted to say was, “Don’t go.”

  “Good,” he winked. “Then pencil me in for Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday night, all day Thursday, Friday afternoon, and Saturday and Sunday.”

  She laughed, basking in his eagerness and his good humor. Glancing at the clock on the cable box, she saw that it was 12:03 a.m. “It’s Monday now, you know.”

  Griffin’s eyes followed her gaze. The smile that followed was so damn sexy. “Looky there. So it is.”

  “You could...you could stay. The night. Here.” Just suggesting it whipped nervous energy through her, but now that they’d found each other again, she didn’t want him to leave. At least for tonight.

  “Yeah?” he asked. “I’d fucking love that.”

  They got ready for bed, which mostly involved Kenna brushing her teeth, since she was already in the tank top and boxers that served as her pajamas, and Griffin stripping down to his boxers and gargling some of her mouthwash.

  And then it was just them and her small double bed, which suddenly looked a whole lot smaller with the prospect of his big body filling it. Not that she minded.

  “Let me get the blinds,” she said, crawling to the headboard and then reaching up from a position on her knees to grasp the wall-mounted chain.

  The bed moved as Griffin’s weight sank onto the mattress and then his arms wrapped around her stomach from behind. “Hi,” he said with his mouth against her ear and his hardening cock pushing into the crease of her ass.

  “Hi,” she smiled, brushing her cheek against his.

  “I didn’t plan to attack you, but then you went and knelt on the bed like that and I just had to feel you.” His voice was deep with amusement and need.

  “What, do you like a woman on her knees or something?” she asked with a smirk. She just barely bit back a moan when he thrust against her.

  “Not any woman, Kenna. You. I love you submitting to me. It fucking slays me every time,” Griffin said, his tone full of a grit that shot need through her veins—despite the multiple orgasms he’d already given her today.

  I love you submitting...

  That’s what he’d said. But what her brain couldn’t stop replaying was those first three words in that raw, desperate voice. Imagining that was what he’d meant made her instantly wet. Even though she knew that was just her own fantasy.

  Be careful, Kenna.

  “Well, I guess that’s good, because I love submitting to you, too.” She kept the words lighthearted, not wanting him to know that she might feel them more deeply, more meaningfully. Not really ready to admit that to herself, either.

  “Do you, now?” he said in a low rumble, his cock deliciously hard against her ass.

  “Mmhmm.” She grinded back against him, getting hotter by the second.

  “Fuck, baby. What do you want?” His hands roamed over the front of her. Grasping her breasts, squeezing her hips, sliding down her thighs. “Because right now I might sell my soul for the privilege of getting inside you again.”

  “Yes, Griffin. God, yes.” Her hand dropped to her waist band, pushing it down on one side. Griffin tugged at the other, and together, they worked her boxers and panties off. And then he bared himself.

  “Let me get a condom, Kenna.”

  “No,” she said, grabbing his wrist. “Like this. Just like this.” She knew him well enough to know how careful he was, and she was still on birth control despite not having been with anyone in years. And all the Masters at Blasphemy regularly got tested and, outside of committed relationships, only had intercourse with protection.

  “Jesus, are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I want you in me. Only you.”

  He boxed her in against the headboard and slipped his hand between her legs. “Are you ready for me then?” His fingers found and spread her wetness, dipping inside her pussy and drawing it out. “Aw, fuck, yes you are.”

  “Griffin,” she moaned.

  “Yeah, Kenna. You want it, don’t you?”

  “God, yes.”

  “And you need me to give it to you, right? Tell me I’m right,” he growled against her ear.

  “Oh, yes. I need you in me,” she moaned.

  “Then spread those knees and let me in,” he said, bumping against her ass with his fist as he grabbed his cock. And then his head was right there, lining up with her pussy and sinking deep and slow inch by inch. “Aw, fucking hell, Kenna. How did I ever live without this?”

  She shook her head, speechless for a moment at the fullness of the invasion. His cock was thick, long, intense, and overwhelming—and so good that Kenna could barely breathe. She grabbed onto the headboard with her only hand, needing support, needing an anchor.

  His big hand came down on top of hers. “That’s right. Hold on,” he said, bottoming out inside her. He held himself there. “Christ, you’re tight, and it’s so damn good.”

  “Oh, God, Griffin. Fuck me, please,” she rasped.

  He withdrew on a long, slow stroke that made her absolutely crazy, and then he smacked her ass. “Don’t rush me, baby. I’ve waited so long for this. We both have.” He penetrated again just as slow. “Damn,” he gritted out.

  Trapped as she was against the headboard, her breasts against the wooden slats, and him all around her, all Kenna could do was accept what he’d give her. But that still didn’t keep her from pushing back and trying to use her thighs to lift and lower herself.

  “Be still,” he said, his tone dropping into the stern gruffness of his Dom voice. “Be still and take my fucking cock.”

  Oh, damn. Him commanding her made her need it even more. “Griffin,” she whined.

  His hips continued to move at that torturous pace, and his free hand started moving again, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, sliding up to surround her throat. She let out a moan as he applied pressure that bent her back against his chest, her head reclining on his shoulder. “You want it faster, Kenna?”

  “Yes,” she rasped.

  “You want it harder?”

  Oh, God. “Please.”

  “Then I want your hand between your legs. Now. Make yourself come, baby,” he said.

  She released the headboard and dropped her left hand between her legs. Before, she hadn’t been a lefty, but she was way too aroused for that to matter. And with the way his cock was rubbing her G-spot, it wasn’t going to take her long to get there.

  The minute she touched herself, Griffin gave her exactly what she wanted.

  Hard. Fast. Everything.

  Still holding her arched against his chest
and shoulder with one hand on her throat and the other on her hip, his hips flew against her, his cock sinking deep over and over and over again. The pitched angle from behind meant that his cock stroked her G-spot on every thrust—hard, making her wetter and wetter and creating an urgent pressure inside her. Her fingers circled her clit firm and fast, and she held her breath as the orgasm closed in on her.

  “Gonna...come,” she managed.

  “I want it, Kenna. Come on my cock.”

  She hung on the precipice for a long moment, and Griffin’s grip on her throat tightened, a silent command.

  It was enough. Breath burst out of her as the orgasm detonated deep in her cunt, her muscles contracting so hard that she pushed Griffin out of her. Her juices ran down the insides of her thighs as she shook and moaned.

  “More,” he demanded as he pushed into her again. “Feel how wet that pussy is. So damn good.”

  “Oh, Griffin.” She circled her clit again, shuddering and moaning at the friction.

  “Yeah,” he said in a hushed tone. “I’m here and I’ve got you, Kenna.” His arms banded around her whole upper body, like bondage of flesh and bone, and then he sank back onto his haunches, holding her on top of his lap. Between the strength of his arms and the leverage of her thighs, they fucked each other in a sweaty, frenzied, grinding rhythm that had her heart pounding and her pulse racing and her fingers moving faster.

  Their movements became more desperate, more raw. The sounds of sex filled the room. Wet, smacking skin on skin. Harsh breaths. The bed creaking against the wall and floor.

  And it was all too much to bear. The orgasm caught her by surprise so that she screamed and grunted as it crashed over her. Her whole body shook from the force of it.

  “Jesus Christ,” Griffin rasped. In a quick series of movements, he took them down to the bed, rolled her on her back, and pinned her down flat with his greater body weight. “Remember this?” he asked with an evil smile on his face.