Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(109)

Stephan looped the pearls about her wrist. “Then you admit that she is there?”

“Yes.” Again the word was almost soundless.

“And do you admit that she is mine, that you are mine?”

Her whole body began to tremble. “I cannot deny it.”

“And do you admit that you dared me to hold you, to bind you to me—that you dared me to hold you however I chose?” He pulled her arm back with the pearls until it hung behind her, resting against the upper curves of her buttocks.

“I did say the words,” she answered quietly, trying to understand his actions.

Stephan’s other hand caught her other wrist, bringing it back to rest against the first. The pearls loosened and then looped about them both, drawing tight. Another loop. And then another.



A part of her wished to pull free of the pearls. He would let her free, she knew he would. Instead she bowed her head and waited, tension growing within her.

He bound her wrists together almost to the elbows. There was strain in her shoulders, but little pain. He seemed to sense that instant before true discomfort began. “I think perhaps we should create some new memories for your pearls, some that will help you focus on the good. They are too beautiful to sit in a drawer for years when they long to be caressing your skin, but I do not wish you to look at them and see sadness and anger.”

What he asked was nigh impossible, but she would grant him the chance. She nodded, a brief jerk of the chin.

He swung the long remainder of the strand up over her shoulders and then let it slip down so that it lay about her waist; with a slight twist he bound it together, pulling her hands tight into the small of her back, causing it to arch.

It felt delicious. His control left her free, no decisions to be made. She chewed down on her lip, letting the small bite of pain in her shoulders focus her bouncing emotions. There was security in his binding. She should have felt more vulnerability, but with each twist and tie she felt safer, more secure. It was contradictory to everything she would have believed, but there was no denying the truth.

For the briefest of seconds her mind flashed back to Temple, to how she had felt when he’d secured her hands over her head. There had been no safety there, no security. There had been only terror and fear—the need to escape. So why was this so different?



There was only one answer.

Because it was Stephan.

Stephan, who would never hurt her. Stephan, who would let her go in an instant if she gave the word. Stephan, who knew her body—and her emotions—better than she did herself.

Stephan.

She let her eyes trail up his body one more time, those long muscled legs, shadowed in golden hair, the narrow hips mostly hidden beneath the green brocade, the unmistakable bulge at the apex of his thighs that not even the loose fabric could disguise, the broad shoulders, that hint of hard chest peeking out, the strong lines of his neck—and his face. She always came back to his face. She was reminded of her game of moving over his body, saving the best for last. It was like that with his face, his face was the best of all, those lips, that jaw, the sun-darkened skin—and those eyes.

If his face was the best, his eyes were the best of the best. Her gaze finally settled upon them and she saw the heat, but also the care and the concern.

“You are letting your mind wander again. I have the feeling I would not mind the track that it follows, but for these moments I want you focused where I wish, to focus on nothing but the sensations that you feel.” He lifted the remainder of the pearls and held them before her.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry—and not with old memories.

He looped them about her shoulders again and pulled them tight, looping them about her again and again. As each row pulled tight, hugged against her, she felt herself caught more and more in his web, bound tighter and tighter to him, and not merely in the physical sense. With each twist she felt her soul, her entire being, become more bound to him.



After the third or fourth loop he stopped, holding up the remainder of the strand. “Now, what should I do with this?”

Her gaze dropped to her body, to the rows of pearls crisscrossing it, holding her secure. The imprisoning bonds ending just before her breasts, the darker skin of his hands stark against her pale curves. Her eyes fastened on the glistening pearls as they pulled tight against her flesh, the bonds no longer of memory but of this moment. She watched as he twisted the pearls once more and then brought them up further, tightening them about her breasts, circling up and over and then again. The pearls should have slipped free, should not have stayed caught, binding her breasts in tight circles, but they did. Something in Stephan’s magic fingers caused them to stay, to press her breasts up and forward, straining to be free.

The bite of the tight pearls constrained her with each intake of breath, forcing her to stay locked in the moment, in the feel of Stephan’s touch.

He gave one final twist and then with a few quick movements of his fingers fastened the diamond clasp in such a way that it held the whole thing tight. She hadn’t paid attention to the clasp in years; the strand was so long that her maid always draped it over her head, again and again and again in long loops. Now she focused on the diamond star fastened in the center, right between her breasts.



“You do look the picture. Should I move you so you can see yourself in the mirror? I am afraid there’s not one above the bed here, but I am sure I can position the standing one. Or should I leave you wondering at your beauty? Wondering at how the pearls glow against your skin and how your skin glows in return, wondering at those small helpless hands clasped behind you and the soft indent of your belly surrounded in precious gems? And your breasts, do you see how they swell, how they react to the binding?”