BOUND: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Leah Wilde

  He spun back around and dropped onto the bed. I landed on my back with a soft “Oh!” He didn’t hesitate to break my kiss and slither down my body, biting and sucking as he moved across my jaw and down the curve of my neck, to take the tip of one breast in his mouth. He suckled gently on my nipple while his left hand kneaded the other. His free hand slipped between my legs, parted my lips, and begin to probe timidly at my opening.

  He switched breasts, putting the other nipple in his mouth. The feeling of his lips on my skin was amazing. I wanted more, everywhere. As if he heard my thoughts, he moved his mouth down. His beard was rough on my stomach, but when he put his tongue along my slit, I forgot everything except for that.

  The hot, wet feeling of his lips brushing against my pussy wiped away the soreness like a sponge. In its place was a liquid warmth that radiated through me, teasing me from the inside. He lowered his tongue to the bottom of my slit and licked all the way up, taking his time and touching every sensitive stretch of skin, not missing a single bit.

  At the top, he wound the tip of his tongue in slow circles around my clit, then put his fingers back inside me. This time, he curled them around and stroked the upper wall of my tunnel. A whole new throb stole across me, unlike anything else I’d ever felt. I moaned loudly.

  He kept at it for several long minutes, licking faster and pushing his fingers deep into my core. A bizarre gravity intensified beneath Dominic’s mouth, like a pressure that spun on a tight orbit that grew smaller and smaller but heavier at the same time. When he retreated and let loose a hot breath directly on my mound, the pressure exploded outwards.

  I started to buck and writhe as rainbows of an unbelievable feeling rocketed from the top of my head to the bottom of my curling toes. The second he felt me coming beneath him, Dom pulled out his fingers and pressed the heel of his hand hard against my mound, giving me a solid point of contact to hold onto while I thrashed around the bed. My fingers grappled for purchase and found Dom’s shaved head. I clung tight to him with my locked thighs and tight hands, eyes wrenched shut, while the sensations flowed through me in shockwaves.

  After they finally subsided, I opened my eyes. The orgasm had left me hungrier than ever for him. Coming wasn’t enough; now I needed to be filled. I pulled Dominic toward me and fastened my mouth against his. I wanted to taste my juices on his tongue. I opened my lips wide to take all of the flavors into me. His body was hard and heavy on top of me. I felt the insistent bulge of his yearning cock, pressing against the inside of his jeans. I wanted that, too.

  Dominic shoved me back onto the bed and whipped off his jeans in one quick motion. I admired his bulk even more in the bright light of the room than I had in the dim dungeon last night. Every muscle was perfectly etched. Each of his abs cast a little shadow in the valleys surrounding it. I ran my fingertips between them, savoring the solidity.

  He took his cock in one hand and stroked it to full hardness. I watched, fascinated, as it grew back to its monstrous length. I wanted him inside me, but I was scared again. He pulled my legs over his shoulders and pressed the head of his cock against my dripping wet pussy. Just as he started to shove himself forward, I reached out to put a hand on his chest.

  “Dominic,” I said with fear in my voice and painted across my face. He looked at me. “Please go slow.”

  In reply, he leaned forward to kiss me deeply at the same time that he slid within. My knees were pressed close to my ears, stretching me to my widest. I whimpered, but the pain was quick to evaporate this time. My body wanted this much man in me. Despite the pain I’d felt before, it wouldn’t have it any other way.

  His first few dozen strokes were slow and shallow, giving me time to settle into the rhythm. I started to rock with him. Our kiss met and broke apart over and over again. When my lips were not pressed against his, I gazed into his eyes. Their blueness was startling. It didn’t seem real.

  Dominic slid a hand down my body and tapped carefully at my clit in time with his strokes. As he did, I felt the gravity circling within me again, beginning the arduous climb back to another climax. His thrusting started to go deeper and deeper, until he was almost all the way inside me, our hips merely inches away from meeting.

  I wasn’t ready yet for his whole cock. I couldn’t imagine what that would feel like. This was so much already.

  He paused for a moment, then withdrew himself from me and rolled onto his back. He pulled my legs across so that I sat straddling him, my knees on the bed. His manhood stood pointing towards the ceiling. I lined it up against my abdomen. It stretched past my belly button. I marveled at the thing, wondering how I could ever manage to take it all. I wanted to, so badly, as if it would prove something to him. Like doing so would make me worthy of him.

  Rising forward onto my knees, I aimed his tip towards my entrance and started to settle down. Inch by slow inch, I took him inside. My body hugged tight around his girth as my hips descended. I closed my eyes and bit my lip. Just like before, there was a brief flash of pain followed by a resounding satisfaction.

  I started to rock my hips back and forth. My hands were planted on his chest for balance, while his rested on the upper curve of my ass. I could feel my breasts swaying with the motion, but I kept my eyes riveted on Dominic’s as I bounced. He groaned, a low, grating noise that sounded like a lion purring or some powerful engine revving up for a race.

  I bounced faster. He helped me up and down with his hands, raising me up to the point that he almost fell from me, then bringing me back down as far as I could handle. When he lifted one hand and slapped hard across my ass, I yelped and stopped for a moment.

  “What was that?” I demanded.

  He looked at me fiercely. “You’re mine.” Then he jerked his hips upwards, driving into me hard, just a tiny bit deeper than he’d ever gone before. I moaned in agonized surprise.

  He wasn’t done yet, though. He sat up on one elbow, wrapped an arm around my waist, and pulled me off of him. I fell with a thump on my side, facing away. I started to scramble around to look at him again, but before I could get my bearings, he had wrapped one leg over and through mine and hooked his arm around my throat. I lay on my right side facing the wall with him behind me, pinning me to the mattress and putting soft pressure on my airway.

  “Dom…” I protested weakly, but we both knew it was futile.

  He used his left hand to push himself back into my cunt and started thrusting again. As he did, he put his mouth against my ear and whispered. His tone was gritty and low. “Don’t ever ask me a question like that again,” he ordered.

  Thump. Thump. The thrusting was hard, fast, furious. His left hand moved down to start stroking my clit at a high tempo.

  “You’re mine and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Do you understand that?”

  Thump. I groaned. His cock was a blur, slamming into me, increasing the pressure of my budding orgasm with every plunge deeper. I felt the last of my resistance slipping away. I couldn’t turn him aside. When I knew he could do this to me, I was utterly his.

  “You’re mine, Isabel, can’t you see that? Swear to me that you’ll obey my every word. Swear it to me now.”

  “Dom…” I moaned again. This time, it was an act of submission.

  He pushed his hips as hard as he could. I couldn’t move; he had me locked up. But I didn’t want to go anywhere. The colors in the room had started to run as my eyes fluttered open and shut. I was choking but it was beautiful and I wanted it. I wanted to be trapped beneath this man while he fucked me and made this pressure mount so much higher than I thought I could take. Words were impossible, or so I thought.

  “Swear it, Isabel! Now!”

  “I swear, I swear,” I mumbled. The bubble broke. I came; he came; hot cum filled me as I tumbled in the throes of an orgasm stronger than any tide in this world or the next. I felt myself falling for him already, despite all the voices in my head crying for me to run for the door as fast as I could.

  But I wasn’t going anywhere. I
couldn’t. I was his.

  # # #

  “So where are you from?” I asked as we laid on our backs, facing the ceiling, our chests rising and falling slowly as the breath gradually came back to us.

  “Here. Everywhere. Nowhere. I don’t know. It’s hard for me to answer that question.”

  “Hmm.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I grew up by myself. My parents died when I was young. There was just me.”

  “That’s awful.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is. I got past it.”

  “Maybe you were lucky, though. Sometimes I wish I’d grown up without parents.”

  “Hated your folks?”

  “I only had one. Just Daddy. But yes, I hated him. Or, at least, I think I did. It’s hard to tell. My life’s been so jumbled up from the start that I don’t really know how I feel about things a lot of the time.”

  It was his turn to make a wordless murmur. “Ah.”

  “Sorry. I know you don’t care about that.”

  Suddenly, he sat up and turned to me. His expression was fierce and focused. “Of course I do. When I said you were mine, I meant all of you. That means your past, your old man. It means I want all your scars and your nightmares. All of you, Isabel. There’s nothing about you I don’t want.”

  I shivered, startled by the abrupt intensity. It was as if all the sound had been sucked out of the room and all I could hear was his steady breathing, the air whistling through his nostrils. The brightest color was his eyes, bluer than anything else I’d ever seen, staring at me and repeating silently all the words he had just said.

  I’d never heard anyone talk like him before. No one talked like that, as a matter of fact. It was ridiculous, downright insane…and yet, it struck a nerve somewhere deep in me. A part of me heard what he said and held it tight. I didn’t want to let it go.

  But what did it mean to give everything to this man? I hardly knew him. He was brutal and savage. Dark. Cold. He might be a monster, interspersing his aggression with little acts of kindness to keep me off balance. Maybe I should run, before I found out how deep this rabbit hole really went.

  After all, I’d tried so hard to stand up for myself before. With Daddy, with Angela, I’d told myself a thousand times that this, this next thing—the next insult or command, the next degrading slap—would be the one that pushed me over the edge, the one that would spur me to lash back. Frank had told me to stand up for myself. A little boy had, too, a long time ago. I was on the verge of finally understanding what that meant, right on the cusp of actually doing it.

  And then Dominic entered the picture. I knew there would be no standing up against him. He was iron through and through, and he would break me if I even dared to try. What did it mean that I felt a deep longing towards him? How should I interpret this desire? I didn’t even want to stand up to him. I wanted to fall on my back and let him take me. Again and again and again.

  I heard an electronic beeping as the floorboards on Dominic’s side of the bed vibrated. He reached over and picked up a cell phone. It was the one Emilio had given him. He flipped it open, thumbed through the menus, and selected the text message that had just come in. I could see the first few words from where I sat.

 

  Dominic stood up instantly. “I have to go,” he muttered. He picked up his clothes from the floor and started to dress himself again. I felt a pang of regret as his body disappeared behind the layers of fabric. It was such a beautiful thing; it deserved to be exposed at all times.

  “When will you be back?” I asked. I had nothing to do and nowhere to go.

  “I don’t know. But, Isabel,” he said, turning to me and turning the wattage in his eyes on full blast, “stay put. Don’t even think about going anywhere. Do you understand?”

  I swallowed and hesitated before giving him the tiniest of nods. “I understand,” I said quietly.

  “Good.” Satisfied, he turned back to tugging on his boots. When he had dressed, he walked over to the closet. There was a small chest of drawers on the floor in there. He opened one and took something out of it, then strode back to me.

  “Here,” he said, handing me a small cell phone. “There’s only one number in here—mine. You answer only if my name shows up on there. Otherwise, don’t touch the thing. Got it?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he treaded out of the room. I heard the door creak, then slam shut.

  And then I was alone.

  Chapter 23

  Dominic

  I hustled down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, and burst out the front door. There was a luxury sedan, freshly waxed, parked on the curb in front of the apartment complex. I fished the keys Emilio had given me out of my back pocket and unlocked it as I stepped to the driver’s door. I slipped in the front seat.

  In the quiet interior, I couldn’t help but take a moment to pause. I remembered the first time I’d ever broken into a car with Slim. The silence, the calm before the storm, was bliss incarnate. I breathed in the clean scent of the leather upholstery, the faint oily tinge of the car’s inner workings that I could only notice if I held my breath and focused in hard. It was like an elixir. I felt a calm strength rush through my veins.

  Inserting the keys into the ignition, I cranked the engine to life. It purred smoothly into a guttural growl. The pitch rose as I popped the emergency brake and steered the car down the street.

  I passed pedestrians, dog walkers, and the jumpsuit-wearing foot soldiers of the Capparelli family. It was easy to tell who worked for Antonio. They all had the same expression, dull-eyed but twitchy, always on the alert, even as they smoked or gambled or waited around for customers to come up in search of drugs.

  I coasted to a stop outside of the address that Antonio had given me. It was a small café, still quiet despite the early afternoon hour, with a simple façade and a few tables littered out front.

  I waited for a moment, unsure whether I should go in or sit in the car. The decision was made for me when Antonio strolled out. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper tucked under his arm, every bit the picture of a normal neighborhood man. But I couldn’t avoid noticing the faint hint of white powder crusted at the edge of his nostrils. I figured it was best not to mention it. The kind of man who does lines of coke to start his day probably doesn’t like to be told that it’s showing. More likely, he probably doesn’t give a damn.

  He opened the rear door and slid into the back. “Dominic, my friend, how are you?” he asked in a cheerful voice.

  I looked at him in the rearview mirror. He was beaming. “Good, thanks,” I mumbled.

  “Excellent. Start driving, please.”

  “Where to?”

  “I’ll direct you. Just go.”

  I pushed the gas pedal down and we moved off, away from the café.

  “So tell me, Dominic, how was your first night as a proud new owner?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  He clucked. “Come on, don’t hold out on me!” I felt him lean forward in his seat towards me. “Tell me all the details! I want to know, did she scream? Did you fuck her in the ass?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t like to talk about things like that, especially not with a psychotic bastard like Antonio. I was still on edge as I tried to figure him out. I needed to know what made him tick. That way, I could start to anticipate what his next move might be. But I didn’t understand why he seemed so interested in Isabel. Both last night and tonight, he’d been eager to hear that I’d hurt her or degraded her.

  I wondered if I had. I’d let the caveman rage take over down in the sex cell, to be sure. I’d gone full rogue from my senses. The things that had happened were purely physical. It didn’t even feel like aggression. It felt simpler, a straight line from A to B. I saw what I wanted and took it. Exactly what I’d told Antonio when he first asked.

  I might have felt badly about how rough I’d been, but I knew without having to put words to it
that Isabel had wanted it that way. Perhaps she never would have said it out loud, or even known how to, but her body responded to mine in a way that screamed yes. “You’ll never have my consent,” she’d told me. But she’d never told me no. She became a living yes. She’d asked for it.

  “Nothing happened in particular,” I demurred. Isabel shouldn’t mean anything to me, but, for some reason, I felt the urge to protect her. Her dignity, her honor, whatever it should be called, I felt responsible for keeping it above the nasty level that Antonio seemed determined to explore. That could be stupid. I should probably have just told him what he wanted to hear. But my mouth wouldn’t let me.