Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(112)

She felt faint and breathless, rising up on her toes, trying to press herself farther into him, needing, wanting.

For a moment all was heaven, and then he pushed her away, holding her from him. Her one conciliation was the glazed look in his eyes and the deep panting of his breath. He might have had an orgasm only moments before, but he wanted her again. She could see it. She could feel it.

“Up on the bed. Now,” Stephan barked the order, and she scurried to obey, climbing up on the high bed.

He bent and picked up the strand of pearls as he came toward her. He lifted them high, letting the pearls play through his fingers as he walked toward her. “And what do you see when you look at them now?” he asked.



Her breasts. She saw her breasts bound and swollen with need. She felt his hands upon her. “I see us,” she answered. “I see what happens between us.”

“Then lie down in the bed, flat on your back. Raise your hands high over your head. Offer yourself to me.”

Without a thought she did as he ordered, feeling her breasts rise high as her arms lifted to touch the headboard.

“Spread.” There was no doubt of his meaning.

She complied, her nerves fluttering with delicious anxiety.

She was not surprised when he wrapped the pearls twice about her wrists, securing them. What did surprise her was that rather than securing them to the headboard he brought the strand back down, laying it between her breasts and then moving the long, doubled end so that it ran down between her legs, the creamy pearls lying against the nest of her lower curls before disappearing between her thighs. She was tempted to raise her head high to see what he was doing.

Stephan chuckled deep in his chest. “I do love your curiosity, Bliss. I must confess I don’t think I would ever have found it within myself to try half of what we’ve done if your eyes hadn’t always been asking for more, wanting to know more. You are my constant delight.”

His words warmed her. Nobody had ever appreciated her desire for knowledge before. Swanston had constantly warned her that she was going to use up her nine lives if she was not careful.

“Do you want to know what happens now? Keep holding your hands up, stretched.” He pulled lightly upon the pearls and then began catching them at her chest, just above the upper curve of her breast. He began to roll them back and forth across her body, each individual pearl leaving a trail of sensation, her body the surface upon which a hundred beads rolled, cool but rapidly warming to skin temperature. It was as subtle a torture as ever she could have imagined. She bit down on her lips as the pearls jumped one peaked breast and then the other, the beads catching and flying free, her tender nipples throbbing with the sensation. They were so tender, so swollen from the earlier binding, and she could feel each individual pearl as it tracked its journey across her skin.



And then his hands moved, the upper hand moving to her belly as the lower hand pulled the pearls tight across her, moving lower so that the pearls ran down right at the V of her thighs, right at her…He suddenly slid the strand down and back up in a single motion, the pearls running over her clit one after another. Her back arched and she almost rose from the bed.

He did it again. The third time he pulled them tighter and moved sideways as well. A deep moan left her mouth.

It was torture. She needed less. She needed more.

Her whole body shook with longing and need.

With the smallest of smiles, Stephan placed a finger on each side of her clit, the strand of pearls between, and ran his fingers up and down, pressing tight. Her whole body stretched and clenched. She began to pant and squirm, his every touch bringing her closer and closer to that magic point.



He eased back. “Not so quickly, love. I know how you love anticipation.” He settled back on his heels, between her legs, releasing the pearls.

The lack of contact should have lessened her need, but the movement of his eyes over her stroked her as surely as his fingers. She squirmed, trying to attract him back to her, and to ease the melting ache that grew and grew. “Please,” she murmured.

“Stay still, my love, and just let me look. I am not sure that I will ever get enough of you. I have had far too many years of dreaming of this, longing for it.” His eyes continued to roam over her.

If only he’d take off the robe, then at least she’d have something to look at as well. Not that he didn’t look almost perfect with the dark green highlighting his dark blond hair that glinted like fine strands of gold in the candlelight, and that flash of chest that lay revealed every time he moved. She could stare at that sliver of skin for hours, thinking about tasting it, about rubbing her cheek against it, about pushing the robe farther open, about pressing her lips just there, just above his heart and then slowly moving down, feeling each breath he took, feeling each movement of his body, knowing…

Stephan leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of his hips, and lowered his tongue to her breasts. The tips were still so sensitive that even his soft breath fanning over her skin had her poised on the brink again. His tongue flicked about, tasting here, lingering there. When his lips finally settled about her right nipple, her back arched up.

“Easy, stay still—and keep those hands over your head. Don’t move. Pretend you’re still bound, imagine the pearls holding you to the bed, keeping you captive for my pleasure.”



“And what about my pleasure?” she moaned.