Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(64)

She thought about it as much as her scattered thoughts would allow. Yes, it made sense—and yes, she did care. She stopped moving. No matter how much she might long for more, long to feel filled, it was not what she wanted. “You are right,” she whispered.

“I know,” an edge of pain sounded in his voice.

Why would he hurt? Before she could think more about the question, his fingers began to move again. It was hard not to press back, but she held herself in control, instead focusing on each tiny sensation, paying attention to the stroke of moist skin against rough hands, feeling the difference between skin and nail. His other hand began to move, the slowest, gentlest circles, easing over her sensitive skin. Even the lightest touch made her skin burn, but with her growing desire the heat only brought further passion, the slight pain adding to the myriad of sensations that raced through her.

His fingers left her opening and moved up to her other cheek. A protest rose to her lips, but instead she sought control. Duldon would take care of her if she trusted him. He squeezed her buttocks tight and she had to bite her lip not to moan at the heady sensation. Pain? Pleasure? It was all one now.

When she felt his fingers spreading her, opening her to his gaze, she did not protest, although her face did turn back into the thick padding of the mattress. Even now, embarrassment swam through her as she felt the weight of his eyes on that most intimate of places. Despite the delicious sensations that still danced through her at every touch she had to fight the desire to close her legs and hide herself from him. Her thighs twitched with the effort not to move.



One of his hands stroked down her leg as if he understood her dilemma. “You are very beautiful, everywhere.” His voice soothed, but still the embarrassment lingered.

A soft kiss landed on her left cheek, his lips soft and warm. Another upon her right. And another and another. She could not be sure, but she fancied he laid a kiss in the exact spot of each stroke of his hand. She swallowed as the kisses moved more central—and lower. When he placed one on the entrance to her core, it was almost too much.

Great embarrassment flared as his tongue crept out and swept along the path his finger had previously blazed. When the tip entered her, playing along the walls, she knew she moaned, quiet and muffled, but still a moan.

His tongue paused, and then delved deeper. Her head turned to the side and she pulled in a great gasp of air.

And then the tip of one finger replaced his tongue and his mouth moved lower, centering over that place that had been longing for his touch since yesterday, if not longer. Some moments she fantasized that her whole life had been spent waiting for him—and only him—to touch that spot.

His mouth moved with surety, sucking, cupping, and pressing. His tongue flicked across her, sending bursts of delight throughout her. Nothing had prepared her for this. Even the orgasms of the other nights had not compared to this…There were no words. Then even thought was gone, as he pulled her deep into his mouth and his tongue moved in a steady, firm pattern against her. It was too much. It was not enough. She would die in this moment. Lights. Colors. And him, Duldon. No, Stephan.



Stephan. Stephan. Stephan.

She didn’t know if she said the name or if it remained locked in her thoughts, playing upon her lips, her soul.

Her whole being was one of sensation, so many feelings, all colliding in one knot of need and desire, coiling ever tighter, needing to explode.

“Please. Stephan. Please.” That time she heard the creak and moan of her voice. “I need you so much. Please.”

For a moment he did nothing but continue, teasing her further and further along the path of need, his tongue moving steady and strong. Then she was moving, up, back, and over, until she lay flat on her back, her legs about his shoulders, his face between her legs. Her head lifted and she stared down at him, taken in by the suddenness of the move and by the increased intimacy of the position, her buttocks burning as they met the mattress, the mixture of sensations only growing. His face tilted and his eyes met hers. If fire burned in her body it burned in his glance also. She would gladly have been incinerated in that fire, danced to her own destruction, but it was destruction and rebirth. She saw his need, his desire for her, for all of her. This was not just about bodies. It was about souls.

And then his tongue flicked again, even as he stared and met her eyes. Her whole body clenched at the intensity of that feeling. And again. And again. She longed to lay back and give in to the sensations, but his eyes held her, the bond between them strong and true. Each movement of his mouth brought her higher, closer, and she could see that he knew that, knew exactly what he did, what he aimed for—knew when he held back, when he gave in to both their desires. His eyes held her and commanded her. When another “please” rose to her lips, those eyes silenced them before it was even voiced.



She was panting now, her muscles straining, longing for release. His eyes suddenly gestured upward in a single small motion. Her gaze followed and stopped. The mirror. How had she forgotten the mirror?

It covered the space above them, covered the world above them. She lay splayed upon the bed, still decently covered from the waist up, although the smudge of his marking was clear upon her breast above the lowered neckline of her dress. But below—below her legs lay splayed, open wide. Her thighs gleamed pale and she could see them glisten with strain and perspiration. Between her legs the dark blond curls of Stephan’s head blocked her view, but it was a view in and of itself, the white of his shirt over wide shoulders, the strength of his fingers as he held her open for his touch and gaze, and the move and sway of his head as he—as he devoured her. The breaking of their gaze had freed something within him and now he fed, his mouth moving over her frantic and forceful. The gentleness of his tongue gave way to steel. His teeth nipped and stroked. His hands held her tight and then one slipped down, gently pressing at her entrance, easing in and out in the most tantalizing of motions.