Dangerously Bound

by Eden Bradley

  “I was nothing but a walking—barely—black mood for a good year after. Jamie helped me with that. I think he was just glad not to have lost another friend. He was still pretty fucked up about Brandon when I went and wrapped my fucking motorcycle around that tree. It was a shitty thing to do to him. To my mother . . . Christ.” He shook his head, his gray eyes going dark. “I remember thinking I was glad you weren’t around to see it. By the time I saw you again, I’d convinced myself I was over it. Which really means I’d stuffed it way down deep. But it was always lurking under the surface, waiting to come out in some ugly way.”

  She knew she should say something, murmur some words of encouragement, but all she could do was nod for him to continue. It hurt like hell to hear it all. To hear in detail what he’d gone through. Hadn’t she been asking him to tell her this? But it was almost too hard now, when it felt as if an ocean lay between them—a distance she felt she had to maintain. Her fingers flexed in her lap.

  He ran a hand over his hair. “That’s when the fighting started. Just the sparring at the gym at first, but it wasn’t long before I found the underground fight circuit. Easy enough to find if you’re really looking for it, especially in a city like New Orleans. You came back to town after I’d had my first few fights, which is the only reason I even dared to be with you—because the fighting was there to help me burn off some of the anger and the guilt. The only reason I had to believe I could keep my shit together around you. But I couldn’t. Not with you. And I’ve always regretted it.”

  “Mick, I wanted you so badly that night. I thought we might . . . I thought it could be a new start for us.”

  “So did I.”

  “But . . .” She was flabbergasted.

  “I couldn’t control myself, Allie. I thought you were crying because I’d fucking hurt you. Because you thought I was some kind of monster. I couldn’t face you. I was a Goddamn coward. It’s taken me all these years to forgive myself for that. And the only way I could even begin to was the first time I had you under my hands when you came back to New Orleans. When you forced me to begin to see you as you were—the kink and the purity all wrapped up together. It’s slowly been forcing me to see these things we do as they should be seen. As I should have seen it all along—as something beautiful in itself. As something that’s only warped by our own motivation. Mine hasn’t been clean because I’ve been bringing in all this wreckage from my past. I haven’t come to it from the right place—from a clean place—until I came from a place of love. Don’t you see? You’re my redemption.”

  “God, Mick, please don’t say that.” The tears welled again. One slipped down her cheek.

  “Why not? It’s the truth.”

  “It’s not. I manipulated you. I had no right—”

  “You did. But you did it because you loved me.”

  “Is love supposed to excuse anything?”

  “Not anything, maybe. But sometimes. It was sure as hell the right reason to bulldog me into being with you.”

  She had to smile a little through the tears then. “I did bulldog you, didn’t I?”

  “You are not a woman to be messed with,” he told her, moving closer, one corner of his mouth quirking for a moment before sobering once more. “I’m sorry I ever did, Allie. I’m sorry I couldn’t just love you. But I do now. I love you so damn much I don’t know how to exist without you. These last few days have been hell.”

  “For me, too, Mick. I was arguing with myself the whole time. Trying to stay away because I felt I had to. But knowing you were hurt . . .” She had to stop, a sob catching in her throat.

  “Baby, don’t cry.”

  His arms went around her, and he lifted her to her feet so he could hold her close. Nothing had ever felt better to her in her life. But she couldn’t stop the tears.

  “Hey,” he said again, his voice gentle. “I’m right here, baby girl. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Is that why you’re crying? Because you want this over?”

  Her heart was going to break. “Stop it, Mick. Don’t say that to me. I can’t take it.”

  “Then tell me what this means,” he said quietly. “Tell me.”

  She slipped her arms around his neck and looked up into his beautiful gray eyes—the eyes of the man she’d loved her whole life.

  “It means I want to be with you. It means I love you so damn much I don’t even know where to begin. It means you can be an idiot sometimes, and I’m damn glad you see it, but if you ever end up in the hospital again I’m going to kill you, Mick Reid!”

  He laughed as his arms tightened around her until she could barely breathe. “Remind me never to fuck with you.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  His face went still as he looked at her, as they both let love tremble through them, between them. He inched closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. She tilted her chin.

  “I’m gonna kiss you, Allie,” he whispered against her mouth.

  She nodded. “Yes you are.”

  He pulled her up on her toes as he lowered his mouth to hers. Just a sweet press of his lush lips, then harder until she felt that familiar sense of command that was the Dom in him. She gave herself over to it, to him. She couldn’t help herself. Any remaining argument she might have had emptied from her mind. All that was left was what was in her heart, and the heat blazing between them.

  Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, and she loved the hard muscle there. Then down his strong arms to where they were clasped behind her back.

  He kept kissing her as their bodies went hot, then hotter, desire and emotion blending together. It was all one thing—it was all just need for him.

  He pulled free and kissed her neck, working his way up until he kissed that tender spot just below her ear.

  “I need you, baby,” he murmured. “I need to feel you. To taste you. To own you.”

  “Yes, Mick. Please.”

  He stroked her hair, kissed her cheek, her jaw, before pulling her nightgown over her head, leaving her naked before him.

  “So beautiful,” he said, awe in his voice as his hands swept over her breasts. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She moaned when he bent to kiss her breasts, his lips brushing across her nipples. Desire heated her blood, her nipples going hard beneath his touch, her sex going wet. He filled his big hands with her breasts, kneading them, then slipping down over her ribs, her stomach.

  “Mick . . . God, I need you.”

  “You have me, my baby,” he told her softly. “You have me.”

  He went down on his knees and her hands went into his hair. His breath was hot against her belly, then lower.

  “Oh . . .”

  He kissed her over and over at that sweet juncture of hip and thigh, then moved in until his mouth feathered over the tip of her clitoris. Using his fingers, he parted the swollen folds and kissed her there, quick, tender kisses. Slowly they became more lingering—just his soft mouth until she thought she’d go mad as need built inside her.

  “Mick.”

  “Shh.”

  He bent once more and used his hot, wet tongue on her, licking at the lips of her sex, still holding her open with his fingers. Her fingers dug into his scalp as her legs went weak.

  Oh, his mouth was good. He licked her, finally, and she arched her hips. He licked her again, one long, slow stroke from the top of her hood and all the way down. She parted her thighs and he slipped his thumbs inside her.

  “Ah . . .”

  He began a slow stroking cadence, his thumbs pushing in, sliding out, his tongue gliding over her flesh, making her crazy with the need to come. She bit her lip, held it back, knowing it would be all the better if she did.

  Then suddenly he shifted, three fingers plunging into her soaking-wet sex as he sucked her hard clit into h
is mouth.

  “Oh!”

  She came all at once, pleasure surging into her. Lips and teeth and tongue and plunging fingers filling her, and God, she’d never come so hard in her life. Stars flashed behind her closed eyes, bursting into flame, dazzling her with their brilliance—with the brilliance of the sensation pouring into her body like white lightning.

  Before she was done he was on his feet, kissing her again, pulling her into his arms, then lifting her and carrying her into her bedroom.

  He set her on the bed and was on top of her in an instant, his big body pressing her into the mattress. She could feel his hard cock through his damp clothes. She scrabbled at the hem of his shirt with blind fingers until he pushed off her long enough to pull it over his head.

  Her hands went to his tight abs, smoothed up to his chest—she had to touch him, to know he was real.

  Her heart surged when she looked up to find him watching her, his eyes filled with love and desire so intense it made her squirm.

  “So damn beautiful,” he told her.

  “Mick, I need you. Now. Please.”

  He slipped out of his sweats and laid his body over hers once more. He slid a hand down her thigh, paused to tickle at the back of her knee before moving down her calf.

  “I love this body,” he said. “I’ve loved it all my life. I’ve loved you all my life. I’ll love you for the rest of it, Allie girl.”

  “I love you, Mick. So much.”

  His hands went to her hips and he lifted them. She spread her thighs wider and wrapped her legs around his back, needing him.

  He paused at the entrance to her body, his gaze locking with hers, and she felt his love in that steady gaze. Felt it course through her, making her shiver. With love. With need. She reached for his hands and his fingers clasped hers, holding on tight, lifting her arms over her head as he slid into her.

  “Ah, Allie . . . baby . . .”

  She watched as his face went loose with pleasure, as the same pleasure coursed through her. He began to move and she moved with him, every lovely motion liquid, sinuous, as though they moved with one body. One desire.

  He turned them both until she lay on top of him, their hands still clasped above their heads. He surged up into her, his cock instantly hitting her G-spot. Pleasure blazed, searing her as the need to come took her over once more. She paused at that keen, lovely edge.

  “I can feel you, baby girl. So hot inside. I can feel you . . . clench around me. Come for me, baby. Come with me.”

  “Yes . . .”

  She let it happen as he bucked into her over and over, her climax flooding her until she was drunk with pleasure, drunk with him. And she felt the stinging current of his own climax inside her as he called her name.

  “Allie . . . my baby . . . my girl.”

  He let her hands free and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight. He kissed her hair, his breath rough against her cheek, then he took her face in his palms and kissed her hard. His sweet tongue slid into her mouth, and they were making out as they’d done in high school—everything that hot, that desperate even now, after they’d both come. But the need was more about the pure need to be together. To love each other.

  Finally they slowed down, until it was simply one soft kiss after another. A press of lips, a slow delicious glide of tongues. Finally he held her head to his chest. His heart was a hammering beat against her cheek. Everything about the moment was exactly what she needed.

  They lay together while the rain fell outside—she could hear the soft patter against the leaves in her garden. Could almost feel the rain and the clouds like a soft blanket holding them in the city’s arms. And knew, finally, she was home.

  * * *

  THEY’D HAD A glorious week together—or almost. Mick had been called away for work on Thursday night. It was Saturday night and Allie couldn’t wait to see him. But the anticipation of seeing him again wasn’t the only cause of the butterflies in her stomach, the breathlessness that was making her dizzy as she knelt on the floor at the foot of the big four-poster bed behind her.

  He had told her he’d arrive at The Bastille at nine o’clock, and she knew it must be nearly nine. She glanced around the Victorian-themed room, where he’d instructed her to wait for him—the damask wallpaper, the carved furnishings, then down at the ornate red-and-gold Persian rug. She knew she’d done exactly as he’d asked—dressed in the ivory silk waist-cincher corset that had arrived at her house that morning, and nothing else. But in her hand she held the one surprise she had for him.

  Her fingers stroked over the leather, and she inhaled, taking in the earthy scent.

  If only he would hurry. But it was Mick, and she knew he wouldn’t.

  She closed her eyes and took in a slow breath, exhaled the way she’d been taught, trying to center herself. And had barely managed to get her pounding heart to calm when she heard the door open.

  Mick.

  “Good girl.”

  Ah, the words that always made her melt, and he knew it. She felt her body yielding, her mind following. Her heart was already there.

  She looked up and smiled at him as he drew her to her feet. He was so handsome in his dark jeans, his black shirt rolled up at the cuffs, revealing the strong muscles of his forearms. Then those arms were around her, and she was being crushed against the hard planes of his chest as his mouth came down on hers. He kissed her hard, bit her lip, drew it out between his teeth before letting it go to bury his head in her neck. He kissed the tender skin, bit her there, letting his teeth sink in just until she gasped.

  He pulled back, smiling at her. “I missed you, baby girl.”

  “I missed you.”

  He stroked her hair. “Are you ready for tonight?”

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  “I can tell you’re sinking down already, Allie. I hear it in your voice. I see it in your eyes. In the flush of your pretty skin.”

  “Yes, Mick.”

  He ran his hands over her arms. “Hey. What have we here?” he asked as he found the leather blindfold.

  “It’s my gift to you.”

  His brows drew together, emotion in his intense gray gaze. “Allie, are you certain you want this?”

  “I trust you, Mick. I needed to show you. This was the only way I could think of.”

  “Baby, you know we don’t renegotiate once we’re in scene, once you’re subspaced.”

  “I bought this the other day, a few hours after you left. I made the decision then. I love you so much. And I can’t really love you without the trust, can I? I have to believe we’re working together on whatever our future will become. I have to believe in you. And because I do, I don’t have anything to be afraid of, do I?”

  “Not from me. I promise you that. Never again.”

  “I know it. So please, Mick. Cover my eyes and let tonight be a mystery of sensation for me. I want to let go of this last boundary. With you. Only with you.”

  He stroked a hand along her jaw, his gaze holding hers. “My baby.”

  “Yes,” she said softly, her heart filled with love.

  He led her to the high bed and sat her on the edge of it while he went to get his rope bag that she’d brought with her. Her body was softening all over, waiting for the night to begin. To feel the embrace of the ropes. His ropes.

  Mick.

  He laid the different lengths of well-washed jute on the bed in their bundles while she waited, then he turned to her. He leaned in and kissed her eyes closed, then he slipped the leather over them and tied the blindfold at the back of her head. There was no panic for her—only a sensation of lightness, then focus as she became aware of her individual senses. She smelled the citrusy scent of the soap he used, took in the distant beat of the trance music playing in the club somewhere, the quiet cadence of his breat
hing. Felt the soft cotton sheets on the bed beneath her thighs. The corset tight around her waist, forcing her to sit up straighter, to breathe into the upper portion of her lungs. And her body was responding in some unexpected way—her nipples going hard, her sex damp.

  No panic. Only utter trust and exquisite desire.

  She gasped softly as Mick kissed her shoulders, her bare breasts, before she felt the mattress give as he got onto the bed behind her.

  He drew her arms behind her, crossed behind the small of her back, and the first loop of rope slid around her wrists. With her eyes covered she felt the silky slip and pull of the rope even more keenly. Felt Mick’s command more acutely. Knew in a new way that she was his.

  He pulled the rope through her arms, binding them together from wrist to elbow. And with each moment her body let loose a little more, sank into the giving of herself to his command.

  When her arms were secure, he slid more rope beneath her breasts, making a chest harness, binding her breasts, the rope winding over and under and ending in a series of knots between them. She felt the bed shifting as he got off it, then his hand gripping the rope between her breasts. All at once his knuckles dug into her flesh as he pulled her to her feet.

  “Oh!”

  But she was melting, loving being handled this way, his hands rough on her. He yanked her in close to his body, his knuckles biting into her flesh. The pain released a lovely rush of endorphins, and even though she was already in subspace, she was aware of her head growing lighter in a way she never had been before. The blindfold made it all the more intense. Lovely.

  “You good, baby girl? Tell me,” he demanded.

  “Yes. So good, Mick.”

  “Excellent.”

  He pulled hard on the chest harness again, and she stumbled, but he caught her. He did it again, and again, his knuckles digging in hard as she lost her footing, as he righted her against his solid frame. And she came to realize distantly that it was all working to gain her trust even more—the way he caught her each time. She knew he would never let her fall. She smiled to herself.

  A small chuckle from him. “This making you happy, my girl?”