Bound to You Page 4

  He closed his hands on her ass cheeks and lifted, desperate for the sensation of her pussy against his cock. Her feet left the ground and she wrapped her legs around him. Pleasure socked him from groin to gut when he sensed her heat penetrate his jeans. Maybe she had a similar reaction, because she started tearing at his shirt buttons.

  After a few buttons, however, she gave up and reached for his waistband. He put her feet back on the ground to give her better room to maneuver. He usually liked to be the one to control the pace of lovemaking, but his cock didn’t seem to care in what manner it got to Jennifer, as long as it made contact somehow. She made fast work of his button fly. He was a little stunned by her enthusiasm but far too horny to complain. He helped her get his jeans down to his thighs, but froze when she dropped to her knees.

  “No. Let me be the one to make you forget,” he rasped.

  “This will make me forget everything.” He straightened slowly as she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. He was so hard she had to stretch the band to get it over his balls and the root of his cock. He was riding down his right thigh, but his cock sprung up at an angle when she finally freed him of his briefs. Even the air seemed to have weight on the sensitive skin.

  He bit off a hiss when he felt five cool, skimming, teasing fingertips along the surface of his steaming cock. A shiver went through him when she tested the weight of his balls. The tiny moan in her throat told him she was pleased by what she felt. She fisted him at the base of his cock. His buttocks squeezed tight in anticipation.

  A shudder went through him when she sucked the head into her slippery, warm mouth. She moved her fist, jacking him from root to her lips while she took a moment to lick the crown.

  “That’s right. Learn my shape. Learn it good,” he muttered. She pressed harder with her tongue, following his instruction, detailing the ridge just beneath the head, prodding firmly against the fleshy cap and running the tip along the sensitive slit. He made a strangled sound and cradled her head in his hands. Her hair felt smooth and light against his furrowing fingers. He gave just the slightest nudge and she sucked him farther into her mouth.

  He pulsed his hips gently, getting a nice friction along the shaft while she accustomed herself to his girth. His entire awareness narrowed down to the feeling of his cock surrounded by her warm, wet, sucking mouth. Part of him couldn’t believe it was happening—Jennifer Turner was giving him head. Another part—a much larger part—was too submerged in sensation to care if the experience was real or fantasy.

  She ducked her head and consumed several more inches, gave him a hot caress with her squeezing lips to the crown, and sunk down the shaft again, this time taking even more of his cock into her mouth.

  Aw, Jesus. She really knew how to suck cock.

  Because she was so adept, he gave her control for a while and relished a sweet, raunchy ride. She sucked with precision and force, using her hand and mouth to ideal effect, but there was nothing mechanical about her movements. He’d never experienced a woman’s hunger so acutely—felt it along the pulsing shaft of his cock, aching in his balls, tightening his ass and swelling like a sexual hunger in his belly. With every pass, down and up, down and up, she took him deeper, her lips clamping him like a firm vise, the steady suction she applied making him grit his teeth to keep control. A thrill of anticipation went through him each time her lips caressed the sweet spot on the underside of his cock and pleasure prickled up his spine.

  “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you’d better stop now,” he mumbled after a while.

  Her reply to him was resoundingly clear. She bobbed her head up and down the length of his cock more energetically. He muttered a curse and withdrew one of his hands from her head. He fisted the base of his cock and withdrew it from her mouth as she slid down the length. Her suction was so taut, it made a wet popping sound when it cleared her lips.

  He grimaced, the deprivation of her warm mouth striking him like a physical blow.

  “If you want it so much, grant me the pleasure of giving it to you,” he said gruffly.

  He heard her soft panting, felt her warm breath on overly sensitive, moist skin. His cock lurched in his hand at the knowledge of her arousal. She wasn’t scared or panicking now.

  He released her head and found her mouth, using his fingertips to trace her damp, plump lips. “You’re very lovely,” he said.

  “Thank you,” he read beneath his fingertips, but no sound came from her throat.

  “Does it give you pleasure to make me feel good?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she mouthed beneath his caressing fingers.

  “Good.” He grouped his first three fingers together and penetrated her mouth. She was slippery and delicious. He didn’t give her time to fasten around him before he withdrew and guided his cock between her lips. He held her head again firmly. “Have you ever been face-fucked?”

  She mumbled something incoherent against his flesh, which he interpreted to be a doubtful negative.

  “I won’t, if you don’t want it.”

  She made a desperate little sound and nodded her head, making his cock waggle up and down.

  “Then you have to give me control. I won’t hurt you, don’t worry. I’ll only give you what you can take. Okay?”

  Again, she nodded. He put his hands on her head and slowly penetrated her, the underside of his cock sliding along her tongue. She resumed her steady suction. He began to pulse his hips several inches forward, several inches back, keeping her head steady at the base of her skull, his fingers caressing the back of her neck. He felt a shudder go through her and he paused.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

  A concise shake of her head was his answer.

  He smiled, knowing it was arousal he’d felt coursing through her. He resumed his fucking motions, enjoying the pressure and friction immensely, building up to a volcanic climax. Through a haze of pleasure, he realized she was straining against his hands, trying to take him deeper.

  “Do you want more?” he asked quietly as he tightened his hold on her, making it clear he would be the one to control her motions.

  She nodded.

  He flexed with his hips, grunting in pleasure when the tip of his cock penetrated the tight ring of her throat. She recoiled, and he immediately withdrew, stroking her shallowly. She twisted her head as if to free herself and sucked so hard, she almost pulled his trigger then and there.

  Christ Almighty, this woman knows how to torture a man.

  He was too far gone to stop himself. He released his gentle but firm hold on her hair and let her have free rein. She went down on him so forcefully, he made a mingled sound of bliss and concern. Every muscle in his body clenched tight when she held him in her throat, stilling her body’s natural reflex to expel him. Her hot, hard upward stroke caused the familiar warning tingle in his balls.

  He growled through his clenched teeth as he erupted on her tongue, the sensation akin to an electrical jolt of pure ecstasy. She sucked and sucked, and he succumbed to her hunger, giving her more and more, until he wondered if his orgasm would ever end.

  He thought that the intense pleasure had finally faded a moment later when she slid his satiated cock from her mouth. Then she pressed a chaste kiss to the crown, and he felt the pulse of desire throb to life again in his veins.

  Chapter Three

  The head of his cock felt moist and firm beneath her lips. He had a beautiful penis—not just large, but handsomely shaped—with a straight, thick shaft, firm testicles and a crown that made her mouth water. He was truly something to behold.

  Jennifer blinked open her eyes and realized with a jolt of surprise it was pitch-black in the chamber. The sun had fully set. She’d only known that John Corcoran possessed a beautiful cock from her avid worship of it by her mouth. Her nose had learned his scent and her tongue his flavor, and she’d found all of the knowledge sweet.

  But she was blind now, and the darkness was absolute.
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  She heard a snuffling sound from above and whimpered. She used John’s hips for balance and scrambled up from the ground.

  “It’s just Enzo,” he reassured gruffly.

  “Your dog? He’s still up there?” she asked, her voice hoarse from taking his cock so deep.

  She went still when he placed his hand along the side of her throat and stroked her gently, as if he knew her throat was raw and was offering her comfort. “Yes.”

  “How . . . how do you know it’s Enzo, and not some other animal?”

  “Because he’s my dog,” he murmured, and she could hear the trace of amusement in his deep voice. “Do you think I don’t recognize my own dog?”

  She strained to see him in the darkness, but it was as if a heavy, opaque fabric had been draped over her eyes. Nausea swelled in her belly.

  “I don’t know if you’d recognize your own dog or not. I can’t recognize anything. It’s so dark,” she muttered. The misery and fear rising in her seemed to pause and recoil when John palmed the side of her head and rubbed the back of her skull soothingly.

  “Just close your eyes, then,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing across her left temple. “There’s a whole world in the darkness, and it can be a wonderful place. Do you want me to show you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, the kisses he rained on her temple and along her hairline capturing her entire attention. He placed his warm mouth over the opening of her ear, the resulting suction from his kiss causing a shudder of pleasure to go through her. She touched his waist and looped her arms around him. “Show me, John. Please.”

  She felt him move and heard the sound of him jerking up his jeans and underwear in a hurried, cursory fashion. He opened his hand at her lower back and brought her flush against him. With his other hand, he cradled her jaw and lifted it.

  His mouth covering her own made the fearful shadows lurking in her awareness scatter like a horde of shooed flies.

  She moaned into his mouth. Something inside her recognized the taste of sex and power and virility. She kissed him back without thought, abandoning herself to instinct and lust, for there was forgetfulness there . . .

  And safety.

  He didn’t only kiss her forcefully, but also with finesse and subtlety, shaping her mouth to his, using some of the most sensitive, erogenous zones in the human body to caress and coax and fuse. Her clit pinched in arousal. This wasn’t just as kiss; it was sex, pure and simple. Bodies pressing, rubbing, yearning; tastes mingling, lips molding, tongues dueling; Jennifer losing the battle for control . . . and winning gloriously. She would have ravished him herself if he wasn’t so clearly the ravisher. As it was, she became dizzy beneath his dominance of her senses.

  He broke their kiss and leaned down over her, pressing the side of his face next to her head so that she heard his slightly escalated breath in her ear.

  “Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?” he rasped.

  “Where’d you?” she whispered as her hands moved over his chest, undoing buttons, seeking out skin.

  His ragged laugh was cut off short when she pressed her face into the opening of his shirt. She moaned at the sensation of warm skin and springy hair against her lips and nose. She’d grown to despise a Hollywood-style shaved chest. Jennifer wanted a man who passed a mirror like he would a stretch of blank wall, not one who took more time getting ready to go out on a date than she did.

  John palmed her buttocks, molding her flesh to hands, his stance striking her, not as content necessarily, as she explored his chest with her mouth, but rather alert. Interested.

  She found a nipple and licked at it delicately, enjoying the way it stiffened beneath the tip of her tongue. She paused, detailing the tiny bumps. He grunted softly and used his hold on her ass to draw her closer. She shifted her face against hard muscle. Liking the feel of the crisp hair on his chest so much, she bit a few strands beneath her teeth and pulled. She jumped when he gave her a taut, firm swat on her bottom.

  Arousal spiked through her. Jennifer just stood there, suddenly feeling like a chastised schoolgirl instead of a successful, experienced woman. His low chuckle in the darkness struck her as delicious . . . and slightly dangerous.

  He backed out of their embrace.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured quietly when she gave a small cry of protest. He kept her hand in his, the contact reassuring her in the darkness. She felt the vibrations of him moving through his hold.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Spreading my coat on the softer ground under the sink hole. Come here.”

  He guided her down to the ground. She heard the sound of his boots crunching in the loose soil. She reached out her hands to find him and realized he’d knelt on his knees next to her.

  “Lie back.”

  Jennifer did as he instructed, realizing he’d spread his coat lengthwise. Big man, big coat. When she lay down, she was cushioned from head to thigh. He began to untie her boots. She sat up and tried to help him, but he grabbed her wrist, halting her.

  “Lie back,” he repeated. “I’m looking forward to undressing you.”

  She reclined slowly. She didn’t like his distance from her. She didn’t like staring into the black void. Anxiety began to grip at her throat again.

  “Close your eyes,” he said as he removed a boot.

  Jennifer clamped her eyes shut. How had he known panic was rising in her again? Did he hear an alteration in her breath? Feel it in her muscles? She studied the bursts of light behind her eyelids and listened to the unpleasant sound of her thumping heart in her ears.

  She felt a give in the coat beneath her and realized John had braced himself over her, one hand near her right cheek.

  “Ohhh,” she mumbled shakily when he spread a hand at the juncture of her thighs and began to rub her pussy straight through her jeans. At first, it seemed like a ridiculous thing to do—why didn’t he at least unbutton her fly and stimulate her skin to skin?—but it didn’t take her long to realize he knew exactly what he was doing. It felt good. She moaned and ground her pussy against his hand.

  “When I was sixteen I had a girlfriend who wouldn’t let me unfasten one button on her blouse, let alone get her naked,” she heard him say, his voice about a foot above her face. “She told me she was saving herself for marriage, and that we could make out, but that would be the extent of things. Her definition of ‘making out’ was pretty interesting. She had no problem with letting me make her come as long as she was fully clothed, though, and was kind enough to return the favor. My father thought I’d turned over a new leaf of independence my sixteenth summer because I took to doing all my wash. In reality, I was just trying to clean the gallons of come out of my jeans.”

  Jennifer gave a mixed moan of arousal and hoot of laughter.

  “You’ve really mastered the art of clothed stimulation,” she said, pressing her hips against the delicious stroking of his hand. “But I’m not quite so fastidious as your old girlfriend. Let me take off my jeans.”

  “There’s time for that,” he murmured. “I want to get you nice and warm before I take off your clothes. Besides . . . I’m looking forward to experiencing you in a lot of different ways. Feeling you through your jeans will just make me anticipate touching and licking you that much more.”

  She groaned.

  “God, that feels good,” she grated out between clenched teeth, her head coming off the ground. He’d pressed down on the bottom of her fly with his long, strong forefinger while he’d muttered those exciting words. He maneuvered the hard ridge briskly up and down along her clit, the movement subtle but incendiary. She tightened her ass muscles and bobbed her hips up against him, heightening the stimulation.

  “I can feel the shape of your pussy lips.” His voice resounded from above her a moment later, sounding rough and sexy. “I can feel your heat . . . and moisture through the fabric. You’re getting your jeans wet, honey.”

  “John,” she mumbled desperately. She reached for him,
knowing his body was just above her. She closed her hands on his shoulders and tried to pull him down to her. He lifted his hand from the juncture of her thighs.

  “Keep your arms down. I’m busy. I don’t want to be distracted.”

  She held her arms tensely at her side.

  “That’s right,” he muttered as he continued his wicked stimulation of her pussy. This time, he pushed down on the ridge of her lower fly rapidly, pressing her clit like a button of pleasure.

  “Oh . . . that’s going to make me come,” she said in a strangled voice.

  He started to rub her again, this time more briskly.

  “Good. Come in your jeans,” he muttered hotly from above her, a smile in his voice.

  She broke in climax. He continued to stroke her, forcing every last shudder and tremor of orgasm out of her straining flesh.

  She sighed and sagged onto John’s coat.

  “That felt so good,” Jennifer said, half stunned that she could come so explosively by having a man rub her through her jeans.

  “It’s going to feel better.”

  Her eyes opened, but she didn’t notice the blackness blinding her vision. She was too focused on the feeling of John’s hands as he began to undress her.

  * * *

  He’d caught her scent as he’d stimulated her. His cock had grown stiff again as he’d detailed the shape of her outer sex and the fragrance of her pussy entered his nose. When he’d heedlessly jerked up his pants earlier, his cock had gotten caught beneath his boxer briefs. It grew hard next to his belly, poking out of the waistband. He’d stroked it with his free hand while he’d listened to Jennifer’s sexy, catchy sighs and low moans of arousal.

  When she’d ground against him as she came and her distilled scent had perfumed the air, he’d become single-minded in his need to taste her.

  She rose slightly off the ground, helping him to remove her shirt. He touched the skin of her bare shoulders and chest and grunted in satisfaction.