Rewritten (The Bound Series Book 7)

by Bronwyn Green

  Her lips parted beneath his, and he delved inside, desperate for more of a taste of her than he’d already gotten. Minty toothpaste, and beneath that, a subtle sweetness that he wanted more of. He wanted to taste every inch of her, and somehow, he knew that still wouldn’t be enough.

  Her hands slid to the front of his waistband and deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Before he could stop her, she’d shoved her hand inside and caressed his rapidly hardening cock through his undershorts.

  “There you go, trying to rush me again, lass.”

  She glanced up at him, almost shyly, through her lashes, but her hand never stopped moving over his cock. “Maybe I’m just trying to make sure you don’t change your mind on me again.”

  Catching her wrists, he spun her and pinned her so her back was against the door. He transferred her wrists to one hand and skimmed the other over her arse, cupping her bottom, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. A soft moan escaped her as she stared up at the way he held immobile. Satisfaction spread through him. He hadn’t misread her arousal last night when he’d held her hands behind her back. She took a shuddering breath, and her eyelids fluttered closed as she tried to arch into him. But he held himself away from her, waiting to speak until she opened her eyes.

  “Didn’t change my mind on you last time,” he rasped. “Just wanted to wait to make sure you wanted this as much as you thought you did last night.”

  She nodded. “More. I want you more.”

  His heart stumbled slightly. She’d said you, not it. He knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but he’d be lying if he said that her word choice didn’t affect him.

  “I’ve wanted you for weeks,” she whispered.

  He leaned forward, skimming his lips along her cheekbone to her ear. “You did an exceptional job of hiding it.”

  “I’m a...professional,” she gasped as he traced his fingertip along the cleft of her arse. “Can’t come on to authors.”

  He pressed open-mouthed kisses along her neck, loving the way she trembled at his touch. Using his free hand, he slid it inside her yoga pants and cupped her bottom, lifting her slightly as he ground his now aching cock against her pussy. “Putting your hands in my jeans wasn’t a come on?”

  “I—I’m—I’m on vacation.” Her hips jerked upward, pushing into his. Her need was clear on her face as she opened her eyes. Like last night, there was nothing but a tawny circle of color around her irises.

  Fuck, she was so damn gorgeous. He had to know what she looked like when she came. But first, he needed to fucking focus.

  “Vacation?”

  She nodded drunkenly, still trying to get more friction as she rubbed against his groin. He slid his fingers between her legs, groaning as he encountered the soaked crotch of her underwear.

  “I sent Barbara another email. I told her I needed a break.”

  “Good girl,” he murmured, loving the way she shuddered at the praise. He released her wrists. She seemed confused for a moment, until he said, “Now, strip.”

  Slowly lowering her arms, she toed off her shoes and socks before she pushed her gray pants down to her ankles and stepped out of them. Bending, she picked them up and quickly folded them before setting them on the chair.

  “Are you doing that for my benefit or yours?”

  Her head jerked up, and she met his gaze. “What?”

  “Is folding your clothes something you think I want or something you prefer to do?”

  The fact that she hadn’t answered immediately confirmed that this was something a previous lover had trained her to do. He’d bet it was the bastard who’d hurt her, and the last thing Angus wanted was for that wankstain to have any space in this moment.

  Reaching out, he dragged his fingertip across the exposed flesh between her underwear and the bottom of her shirt.

  Smiling slightly, she caught the hem of her black long-sleeve top and tugged it upward, lifting it over her head before dropping it to land on the floor. A white tank followed the rest, leaving her clad in nothing but a pale blue bra and panties.

  His cock jerked at the sight of her, and he knew without looking that he was leaking pre-come in his underwear. She held his gaze as she hooked her thumbs in the elastic, but he knew her well enough by now to know that she was nervous. It was clear in her too-wide eyes and the way she watched him as if she was searching for something. Or maybe waiting for something.

  As if making up her mind, she pushed down the fabric in a rush, exposing her bare cunt to his hungry gaze. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting her smooth, silky folds.

  She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Shrugging slightly, she let it slide off. She put her arms behind her back and caught one wrist with the opposite hand. Other than her gaze, it was a textbook perfect submissive pose, and he again wondered if the person who’d demanded that of her was in her head right now.

  Her still too-wide eyes clung to him as he prowled closer, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. She was pink and pale and all curves, and he was desperate to taste her. Her sweet mouth, her tight, berry-ripe nipples and her full breasts, the gentle swell of her belly, and her slick cunt. The scent of her arousal drifted to him, and his mouth watered, loosening his tongue.

  “Christ, you’re gorgeous.”

  She closed her eyes at that.

  “Lace your hands together in front of you.”

  She did as she was told. He grabbed her wrists and again held them above her head.

  “Look at me, lass,” he murmured. When she finally did, he leaned closer. “I can’t help but feel that we’re not alone in the room.”

  Panic flashed across her features as her gaze darted around. “What do you mean?”

  He lifted his free hand, and tucked it beneath her chin, bringing her attention back to him. “I mean, I can’t help but feel like you’ve a previous lover’s voice taking up space in your mind.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely audible, but he could read her lips well enough.

  “Nothing to be sorry for, but I want you here with me. Only me.”

  She nodded. “I want that, too.”

  His lips curved upward. “Good. Because I’m about to drive every other thought straight out of your head.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eliza stared into Angus’ nearly black eyes, and it was almost impossible to breathe with the full weight of his attention on her. He brushed the pad of his thumb across her mouth, his slightly rougher skin tugging on her softer flesh. She pursed her lips and pressed a faint kiss to the digit. The smallest of smiles lifted the corners his mouth then he dragged his thumb down, catching the inside of her lip, trailing the dampness over her chin and down her neck. The whole time, his eyes never left hers.

  “I don’t share.”

  She startled at the rough sound of his voice. “What?”

  He had continued his inexorable path downward until she’d spoken. He stopped at the bottom of her breastbone, and his hand splayed across her stomach, while his thumb stroked absently back and forth, leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake.

  He leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. “I said, I don’t share. Not even with the ghosts in your head. I want you fully present. With me.” His hand on her belly slid to the right and then up, until that thumb was brushing, brushing, brushing the underside of her breast, and she was suddenly cognizant of the fact that she was completely naked, and he was almost fully clothed.

  Her nipples tightened at the prospect of being touched. She hadn’t been with anyone since Nigel—hadn’t trusted anyone. And here she was, letting Angus—her author, for fuck’s sake—pin her naked to the door while he told her exactly what he expected of her.

  She was so stupid.

  She was so wet.

  Normally, she went out of her way to avoid feeling vulnerable, but with Angus, she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. Maybe it was how he’d looked after her so sweetly the night before, but there was something about him
that made her feel safe. Safe, but also undeniably reckless all at the same time. She wanted him in whatever way she could have him.

  “Trust me—” She cleared her throat. “The ghosts in my head weren’t invited. Or wanted.”

  He nodded as if he understood, and a shiver stuttered through her at the intensity in his gaze. “Time to chase them away, then.”

  Tilting his head, he kissed her again, his lips roughly taking hers, his morning scruff rasping against her tender skin. He tasted like black coffee and longing. His mouth, hot and hard against hers, coaxed away every other thought.

  His hand tightened deliciously around her wrists, and she squirmed in response. She’d missed the feeling of being restrained, the feeling of putting herself entirely into someone else’s hands and trusting that they’d give her what she needed. For the briefest of moments, the cold slide of fear inched along her spine, but she pushed it away. She knew Angus wouldn’t hurt her. Not in any way that she wouldn’t like.

  His big warm hand slid upward and cupped her breast. Her nipple hardened insistently against his palm, and she arched into his touch. Well, she tried, anyway. He stepped closer and nudged her feet apart, keeping her from moving much at all.

  Panting, he tore himself away from her lips and lowered his head until his lips hovered above her aching nipple, his hot breath bathing her tightening flesh. He stayed poised like that forever, drawing out her anticipation to unbearable levels.

  “Please-please-please-please,” she whispered.

  “Please what?” His lips skimmed across her nipple with the lightest of touches. Her entire body jerked in response, and she had to bite back a groan. Chuckling, he repeated himself, eliciting the same reaction.

  “Please just fucking touch me already. Suck my nipples. Bite them. Pinch them. Slap them. I don’t care—something.”

  Before she had time to fully perceive his motion, he drew her aching flesh into his mouth, sucking hard and pulling a ragged groan from her as she trembled beneath him. He was relentless, using tongue and teeth on the distended nub while she writhed, begging for more. He switched sides, sucking and scraping her other nipple while he tugged at the first, replacing mouth with fingers. The onslaught of pinching and twisting and biting was overwhelming, and her pussy flooded with arousal, greedy for his touch.

  She pushed her hips forward, trying to get some kind of friction. But there was nothing. She was empty and aching with a need that bordered on pain. The combination of years of denial and the headiness of Angus stroking her amped her desperation beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. She registered the concern on his face before she realized why it was there. He reached out and wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks. The hot swell of shame burned in her chest. Of course, she was fucking crying again. She couldn’t even enjoy sex like a normal person.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m just...” She shook her head—this time in frustration.

  “You’re just what?”

  “I’m just...just... It’s been a long time, okay? I’m—”

  “How long?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Your answer will help me decide how long I’m going to torture you.”

  Something akin to panic flared to life and clogged her throat. She’d fucking die if he made her wait much longer. “Almost five years.”

  His mouth dropped open, and he didn’t even try to hide his surprise. “Almost five years?” He slowly shook his head. “Christ, you’re just fucking needy is what you are.”

  He cupped her pussy, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment as his fingers slid through the slick evidence of her nearly agonizing arousal.

  “Open your eyes, lass. Be here with me.”

  She couldn’t have kept her eyes closed if she wanted to. The gentle command in his voice compelled her to obey. As she stared into his bright, dark eyes, she realized that she’d probably do any damn thing he told her to if it meant having him look at her like that. Like she was something precious. Like she was exactly who he wanted.

  She wanted to rock against his hand. She wanted to get herself off on his fingers, but she held still and waited. She’d put herself in his hands—literally—and she’d wait for him to decide how long it would be until he’d let her come.

  He flexed his fingers, and she shuddered, but she forced herself to stay still. “Good girl,” he breathed.

  Her eyes drooped closed as she felt herself drift into that place of trust and acceptance.

  “Eyes on mine, lass.”

  She forced open her heavy lids and lost herself in the liquid warmth of his gaze.

  “That’s my girl.” He slid two fingers between her lips, tracing from her opening to her clit, careful not to touch the throbbing flesh.

  She drew a heavy slow breath through her nose, refusing to close her eyes, even though she wanted to.

  “You’re going to go right off, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, unable to form words.

  Sliding forward, he grazed her opening with his fingertips and ground the heel of his hand against her clit, and she broke instantly, crying out. Stiffening then lurching forward with shallow jerky thrusts, she flooded his hand as her release washed over her in waves. And the whole time, she kept her eyes locked on his.

  He didn’t look away, and she couldn’t. It was physically impossible. She knew the exact moment he decided to make her come again, before his hand ever moved. There was no outward indication. Nothing. But she knew.

  She moistened her suddenly dry lips, and he watched the motion of her tongue as if he’d never seen anything so fascinating.

  “Once wasn’t nearly enough, was it?”

  She’d barely finished shaking her head when he began tracing her opening in slow easy circles. Her breath caught, and she bit her lip, trying not to whimper.

  He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck. “Christ,” he muttered, as he slid a finger inside her. “You’re so wet.”

  “That’s all you,” she choked out, clamping down around him.

  Groaning, he pulled free from her body and grabbed hold of her hair with his damp hand. He yanked, tilting back her head and taking her mouth with a harsh kiss.

  “I thought I could wait...make you come a few more times before I tasted you, but I can’t do it.” He kissed her again. “I can’t wait.”

  He released her wrists, but before she’d fully lowered her arms, he was already picking her up and setting her on the dresser.

  “Lean back against the mirror,” he ordered as he moved the tray of coffee to the nightstand. “Then spread your legs and hold your thighs apart for me.”

  She sank back against the mirror. It was cold against her back, and she shivered. Catching the undersides of her thighs, she pulled them up and held them apart, baring herself to him.

  “That’s it,” he murmured, stroking his cock through his underwear. “Show me that pretty cunt.”

  He stepped forward and extended the hand that wasn’t already occupied and trailed his fingers through her wetness. She shifted, spreading her legs a little farther. “There’s a good lass.”

  She groaned at the rough sound of his voice, and his head snapped up, pinning her with his gaze.

  “Which is it you like?”

  She tried to blink away the arousal-induced brain fog. “What?”

  “Obeying or the praise?”

  Staring at him, she sucked in a harsh breath as she decided to answer honestly. “Both. But I also like knowing I please you.”

  His lips twitched, and he looked as if he fought a smile. “And how can you tell that?”

  She let her gaze drift down his body to hover at his groin before slowly climbing to meet his eyes, again. “Your cock is out, and you can’t seem to stop stroking it.”

  He glanced down as if seeing his hand for the first time.

  “Besides,” she continued, “you look like y
ou’re about to either fuck me or come all over me.”

  His hand stilled, and his eyes widened slightly. “I’m about to do something with you. Several somethings.”

  He yanked his t-shirt over his head then dropped to his knees in front of the dresser. Between her spread legs.

  “Oh?” Anticipation shot through her, and her stomach fluttered wildly.

  He nodded. “The first thing I’m going to do is eat you ‘til you scream.”

  Her head thunked back against the mirror as he dragged his fingertips along her inner thighs. “Oh, my god,” she groaned.

  He traced the length of her slit, then spread her lips even wider with his thumbs, completely exposing her.

  “So pink and pretty,” he murmured, more to himself than anything else, it seemed. Then he lowered his head and licked up and down the length of her before tonguing her opening, fucking her as deeply as he could.

  Her fingers dug into her thighs as she fought to keep from grabbing his face and shoving his mouth exactly where she wanted it. He peered up at her through his lashes. She couldn’t look away. It was becoming a thing—his ability to hold her captive with nothing more than his eyes.

  Still watching her, he licked a path to her clit, circling it once before flicking his tongue back and forth across her straining flesh in a steady unrelenting rhythm. The only sounds in the room were her whimpering breaths and the wetness of his mouth mixing with her juices.

  She jerked upward into his face, and he mumbled something unintelligible against her pussy. When she moved again, his hands slid to her hips and he held her motionless. Her whimpers turned to moans as she struggled against his grip, a fresh rush of arousal slicking her cunt.

  Angus lifted his head, his mouth and chin shiny with her cream, and he raised a dark brow at her, pleased smile tilting his lips. He knew. He could tell just how much she liked being controlled. He could tell, and he enjoyed it. His smile grew as he stared at her, then he dropped his head to renew his assault on her senses.