Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(28)

Yes, she would ignore it, pretend it was not there.

She focused on the scene before her again. Mr. Binkshaw was opening his breeches. He was turned away from her, so she couldn’t really see anything except for pale buttocks. They were much more muscular than she had expected. Again, he nudged his wife’s legs apart and then, with a sudden thrust of hip, he was in her.

Bliss swallowed again, watching the steady thrust and withdraw of him. Mrs. Binkshaw moved in tandem with him, straining back and then lunging forward. Her face was turned to the side and Bliss could see the effort and the want reflected in her flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She wanted something, wanted it badly, her whole body spasmed with the need for it. Her mouth opened and Bliss could see that her lips formed words, commands. Bliss might not be able to hear, but she knew that expression of command.

She circled her own hips in imitation of Mrs. Binkshaw and felt Duldon’s fingers tighten. Feeling shot straight from their squeeze to between her legs. He’d asked her earlier if she was wet and she had refrained from truly answering. There was no question now; she could feel dampness slicking her thighs, her tight breeches holding the moisture to her. He squeezed tighter, his fingers moving over fabric, awaking her sensitive skin.

It felt good, far better than it should have.

She leaned into him. She knew she should not, but how could she resist?

Another squeeze, harder, tighter, more lightning bolts connecting his hand and the ever-tightening sensation at the apex of her thighs.



“He’s f*cking her now, isn’t he? And you like it? You like it very much, don’t you? Do you wonder what it feels like? Do you imagine taking a man into your body? Feeling the long, thick length of a cock sliding in and out? Do you want that? Do you want another orgasm like the one you had in the gardens?” Duldon’s other hand slid down to grasp her other buttock, his fingers digging in tight as he began to massage her through her breeches.

She was going to faint. Bliss had never fainted in her life, but it was going to happen here and now. Her body felt as if it could no longer support itself; knees quivered, thighs shook. Her back arched, allowing her to rest her chest against the wall, but it also pressed her more firmly into Duldon’s hand. The excitement of her mind, of all that she watched, combined with the desire of her body, of Duldon’s touches, to leave her vulnerable, open—and needy, so very needy.

She should pull back, she really should, but it felt so good.

God, she could only hope she was not purring.

“What’s happening now?” his voice whispered.

“I—I…” It took effort to focus. “I need to look again. I’ve lost track. Oh, he’s flipped her. She’s on her back now on the bed and he’s still, still moving. How long does this normally take? It was rather quick when I watched Lord Banks.”

“Poor Lord Banks,” Duldon chuckled, but his fingers continued to move. “Never let him hear you say that. Men take a certain pride in being able to last. But it lasts as long as it does, sometimes fast, sometimes almost endless. It depends on many factors.”



“Such as?” she gasped, trying to think of anything instead of betraying the wonder that continued to build between her legs.

“Passion and buildup.” His fingers moved lower on her behind, almost down between her thighs, the thick fabric of her breeches rubbing against her, tantalizing her.

The tension she’d felt when Duldon kissed her in the gardens was surging again, winding her tighter and tighter. No matter how tightly she pressed her legs, it brought no ease. “I don’t understand.”

“When a couple has been wanting for a long time it can be quite quick. Much of the play happens before a single piece of clothing is dropped. At other times it can take longer—if a couple has been together for a while or if it is not the first time of the night. Drink, fatigue, age, these also can make a difference.” His fingers moving over her thighs, a thousand prickles of delight spreading from them.

“That makes sense.” Bliss sighed, her attention caught between his ever more daring fingers and the sight of Mrs. Binkshaw’s face as she approached that magical moment, approached her orgasm. “She’s very flushed now and moaning, or at least I think she is moaning. It is hard to tell when I cannot hear.”

“I imagine you are right. Is anything else happening? Describe to me what you see.”

“No, there’s really nothing else happening. Well, his hips are certainly moving with some vigor. I cannot see his face. Oh, his hands have moved to her breasts. He’s stroking, no—squeezing. She likes it. She likes it a great deal. Her face, oh, I wish you could see her face. I’ve never thought of her as a truly beautiful woman, but now, flushed with joy and with her eyes glowing I am not sure I’ve ever seen lovelier.”



“I know what you mean,” he replied.

“I don’t see how you could. I mean…” Bliss glanced over her shoulder again and lost focus as she felt his gaze upon her, upon her cheeks and the lips, lips grown puffy from her nibbling.

“Don’t doubt yourself, my pet. I have always found you lovely, and yes, your flush only adds to it.”

“Oh,” she murmured, turning to stare further. “She still wants more. You should see her pressing back, pushing against him.”