Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(35)

“God, I wish I could see you, taste you. Are your nipples pink like a cherry blossom or are they deep strawberries made for a man’s mouth? They feel like strawberries just waiting for my lips. Should I turn you around and suckle you? Draw your breasts deep into my mouth, flick them with my tongue, and nip them with my teeth? Should I bite you once, hard, to leave my mark upon you so that tomorrow, when this is all over, you will see it and know that you belong to me?” He pinched her nipple hard and held it, not releasing the pressure as he spoke.

“But I don’t belong to you,” she answered, fighting to keep thought straight in her head.



He pinched harder and with his lower hand began to thrust in and out between her legs, the fabric of her breeches rubbing against her. “You do,” he said.

She wanted to argue, really she did, but…

It was close. It was coming so close. Her whole body centered at that spot between her legs.

Her legs parted, her hips sliding forward as she tried to press against Duldon’s hand, tried to move the pressure right where she needed it. There. Yes, there. Oh, it was so good.

And then he slowed, his movements drawing almost to a stop. “Tell me you are mine.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. “Never.”

“Tell me.” One more long hard stroke, his thumb flicking up to catch her just as she needed it.

“No.” Her voice did not sound as sure as it had.

Another flick. His other hand still held her nipple tight.

“Tell me and I’ll make you come. I can feel how you need it, feel the ache within you. I ache too, my pet. Say the words.”

“I…I can’t.” And it was the truth. Somehow the words that would betray her innermost self could not be spoken. She belonged to herself and only to herself. It had always been that way and it always would be. She would never trust herself to another. Another might betray her, hurt her, or leave her.

“Why not, my pet? You know they are true.”

“Please. Please. I need it. I need you.”

“You need me.” Even in her current state she could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Should that be enough for me?”



“Please. I…Don’t do this to me. Please.”

“I will let it be enough—for now.” He squeezed her nipple even harder and then released it all at once. A sharp bite of pain. The blood rushed back in, filling the delicate flesh to swelling. And then heat. So much heat.

His other hand moved between her legs, hard, fast, grinding the fabric into her.

And she burst.

She broke.

The world filled with color and blackness. There was nothing but sensation.

She flew into a million pieces and was remade.

A great cry left her lips. His name. No. It could not have been his name.

Her body arched back against him, every muscle strained.

And then relaxed.

His arms caught her as she softened, drawing her deep into his embrace.

Her eyes drifted closed and for a moment she wondered if she slept. Everything was safe. Safe and calm, her busy mind still.





Chapter Nine


She slept. Duldon could only stare down at Bliss’s slumbering features and wonder at their perfection, wonder at her perfection. He didn’t know how he knew that she was the only one for him, but he always had.

Bliss.

Bliss Danser.

Lady Bliss Danser.

His wife-to-be.

Bliss Perth.

Lady Duldon.

He smiled as he cradled her in his arms, every protective instinct in him drawn by her delicate form. He would do anything for her, anything. It was probably a good thing she did not know that. He could only imagine the escapades she’d be taking him on if she did know.

He shifted his hips, uncomfortable. Bliss might have found her satisfaction, but he certainly had not.

Not that he had expected to. But then he hadn’t really expected any of this, hadn’t planned to let things go as far as they had. He had never imagined doing these things with his wife, doing these things with Bliss. That was, perhaps, not strictly true, but he’d certainly tried to hold his thoughts in check, to grant her respect.

And now?

Escapades, indeed.

Bliss overwhelmed his every plan, his every intention.



How had he ever agreed to take her here?

He glanced about the room Simms had directed him to. It could have been in any country manor, the fine fabrics of the curtains and bedding. The elegant dark wood of the mantel. Even the cut-crystal oil lamps and multitude of candles were to be seen only in the finest establishments.

It was far different than the usual chamber Ruby supplied him.

No one would ever have taken this room for a brothel, although—he glanced at the bed—the dark wood posts bounded a mattress of epic size, posts that would be perfect for restraints, perhaps someone with a careful eye might guess. It was far more comfortable than any guest chamber he’d ever been given. Was it because he was only an earl? Were the best rooms saved for dukes? And princes? And kings?

He smiled at the thought. Few were the occasions that he was not offered the best there was.

No, the truth was simply that Ruby knew that by providing a level of comfort offered by few other places she attracted a higher quality of guest. He knew that there were a dozen establishments in the city that could have provided for his needs and yet he always returned here. Ruby knew how to treat her patrons.