Bound to Pleasure [Bound To 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Minutes or hours later, time had become irrelevant. Ronan knew he had to take care of the soiled condom. His dick was already starting to harden again. He made himself pull out of her warmth but couldn’t resist a single thrust back in. She whimpered and her muscles tightened around him, trying to keep him close. Chuckling, he pulled out completely and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t move, love.” Walking to the bathroom, he disposed of the condom and took care of his own needs before cleaning himself. Ronan grabbed a new washcloth, wetting it with cool water and wringing out the excess, and turned to go back into the bedroom.

  Standing in the doorway he could see she was fast asleep, body lying just as he’d left her. Walking to the bed, he knelt to press the cool washcloth to her sensitive flesh, quickly cleaning between her thighs. She only moved the slightest bit. Poor little love was done in. Tossing the rag on the floor to worry about later, he climbed onto the bed, pulling her close so that her head rested under his chin. She moved one of her legs to rest over his own, threw an arm over his chest, and snuggled down. Ronan chuckled, pressing her closer. The feel of her supple body had him hard and wanting but his dick was going to have to stand down. She needed to rest. He planned to spend as much time as possible convincing her she was meant to be his One.

  * * * *

  “I’ll do whatever you want, Master. I live only to serve you.”

  Andrew Stone smiled at the woman in front of him. She was a slave, familiar with the lifestyle but bereft of a master. Looking down at her bare arm, it was apparent her last master had been gifted with a blade. She bore the marks of many a bloody session. Beautiful, the only beautiful thing about her, really. She wasn’t very pretty. “Plain” would be the kindest thing anyone could say about her appearance. Away from here, he wouldn’t have given her a second look, hadn’t given her a second look, actually. She had first made contact while he was on trial in the neighboring town of Dunloop. He’d noticed her in the crowd, for some reason. They’d made eye contact and she’d dropped her eyes demurely, deliberately. He’d looked for her the next day. She’d been in the same spot, watching him expectantly. He’d been intrigued and maneuvered and played his attorney until during one recess, the dumb shit had actually left him alone in a room without a guard.

  She’d slipped through the door and immediately dropped into a facedown slave position, arms outstretched. His dick had hardened and he’d called her to him. Knowing he only had moments, he gave her instructions to drape herself on the table and hold her ass cheeks apart. She’d stepped out of her skirt and done so without question. He’d used his cuffed hands to slide his zipper down, palmed his dick, and shoved it into his waiting vessel. It had been so long and she’d been so tight he’d come in minutes.

  She’d been spread across the table, dripping from her just-fucked asshole, when his lawyer had walked back in the room. The dirty old bastard had tried to act horrified, but the erection rising in the front of his pants had told another story. Master Stone had rubbed her ass, scraping his nails into her flesh before instructing her to turn around and present her pussy. It was always good to have a naughty deed to blackmail someone with, so he’d begun to push a finger in and out of her wet opening. She’d moaned so prettily. “Slave, he looks as though he could use some relief. See to him, now.”

  “Yes, Master.” She’d walked over to the gasping old windbag and dropped to her knees.

  “She’ll do whatever you want, Benson. All you have to do is instruct her. Take her pussy, mouth, or her ass. I can tell you her ass was lovely.” He laughed as the lawyer had fallen on her like a starved man, bending her over and fucking her until he’d come in a disgusting, grunting manner. Probably the first piece of tight pussy he’d had in thirty years. When the old bastard had pulled his pencil dick free of her twat, she’d simply risen to walk back to her Master, waiting for his command. It had been a fruitful relationship.

  Benson had taken her on as an “intern” working on the case with him so that they could keep her close. Every recess, they would drag her into whatever room they’d been assigned and fuck her every opening, sometimes taking turns, sometimes together. The old fucker could be enthusiastic when he had to be. Stone had kicked around the idea of using their little orgies in a federal building against Benson. The stupid fucker hadn’t realized his slave had recorded almost every tryst after the first. But he’d looked across the courtroom at those smug and arrogant Kincaids and decided to play a longer hand. He knew a mistrial would only delay the inevitable. The evidence against him was substantial, to say the least. He was going to jail. Instead, he’d strike just when the Kincaids least expected it. When they felt safe in their snug little beds. No, no mistrial for him. He’d decided to use the lawyer and his slave to carry out a very nasty little plot. Cliché he knew but occasionally a cliché had its uses.

  Looking at his plain little pigeon across the table, he smiled benevolently. No, she wasn’t his usual type, but now she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was going to be his revenge. “Of course you do, my heart. We’ll start with the troublesome brother first. Take everything from him before you kill him. If he loves anything—I don’t care if it’s a cat—take it and make sure it dies. He should suffer before his death. I want Jack to know his brother’s life was forfeit because of him and my lovely Kat. I want them all to suffer as we do, my beauty. Never to be together because of their narrow-minded treachery.”

  “Of course, Master.” Bowing her head in deference, she was rewarded when he grasped her hand under the table and laid it over the erection tenting his pants. Oh, how she wished he was not in this place. That he could make use of her to ease himself. He was her one true master. She’d known it the moment she’d read his story. The world didn’t understand people like them. They were persecuted unfairly.

  “If we were alone, I would fill your ass with this. I would fuck you until you were raw and bruised, adding my own marks to those white thighs with my scalpel.” Master Stone smiled when he felt her grip him tighter and watched her eyes glaze. Such a little pain slut. He would have loved breaking her. She had no idea the levels of pain he could introduce her to before ending her life.

  “Visitor! Hands on the table!” a guard yelled across the room.

  His little slave didn’t move until he nodded. So obedient, so eager to please him. If only he’d found her before he’d been put in here. She would have been a lovely distraction from his little kitty Kat. A toy to play with and discard before he’d taken his beautiful Kat. The things he could have done to all that flesh, delicious.

  “Time is up. Visitors, make your way to the exit. Inmates, stay seated until you’re told otherwise.”

  “Do not disappoint your Master, slave. There are consequences for ineptitude,” Stone intoned deeply from his seated position.

  “I won’t, Master. I live only to serve your will.” She bowed her head and moved toward the door.

  Master Stone watched her walk through exit with a satisfied smile. His will would be done, starting with Ronan Kincaid.

  Chapter 3

  Emma lay in the big bed, basking in the sun coming through the large windows. She heard Ronan moving around somewhere in the house. It still all seemed so surreal. The soreness she felt between her legs told her it had indeed been quite real. Ronan Kincaid wanted her. Emma Black, who’d been unwanted and abandoned as a child.

  She’d bounced around the system from family to family. Some had been okay, some had been a nightmare for a young girl alone and afraid. The day she was placed with Ian Black and his two boys had been a turning point in her life. She’d been eight years old, shy and scared. Ian had left the room to talk with her caseworker, leaving her alone with his boys. The taller of the two had approached her with a slight frown on his face.

  “You sure are little. My name is Ethan. This is my brother Stephen. Well, he’s not my real brother but we’ve decided we’re brothers anyway. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Emma.” She’
d remembered looking up at the stranger and praying he wouldn’t hurt her. At her last home, the boys had been mean, and he was a lot bigger than any of those boys.

  “Well, our dad says you are going to be living with us from now on. Says we’re going to be your brothers and we gotta take care of you and stuff like big brothers do.” He’d puffed out his skinny chest as if he’d just laid down the law.

  “He didn’t tell us you were so little,” the one named Stephen said from beside his brother. The brothers shared a worried look. As if her being little was something they could change.

  “I’m not so little. You’re just too big.” Emma crossed her arms and gave them her best dirty look. The one that got her smacked by a few of her foster parents.

  “We’re older than you. We’re supposed to be big. Besides, we need to be big to take care of you. It’s why we’ve been eating all our vegetables. Even the asparagus, yuck.” His face told the tale of what that sort of sacrifice should mean to her. “You’re ours now, and forever. Dad says big brothers look out for their sisters and that’s what we are going to do, right, Stephen?”

  “Yep, you’re ours,” Stephen answered with a nod. They’d been inseparable from that moment forward. Sometimes she wanted to knock their heads together for butting in so much, but she loved them just as they loved her. They’d given her a real home and showed her that she was worth loving.

  Feeling the bed dip brought her back to the present and the delicious sight of the Ronan’s wide, muscled chest. She did have a weakness for a big, brawny man. Ronan was huge everywhere.

  “Hey sleepyhead, let’s get you into the bath.”

  “I didn’t bring any clothes with me.”

  Ronan gave her a hot look. “Little love, there will be few times you are allowed to wear clothes when we are alone. Might as well get used to it now.”

  Before Emma could formulate a reply, he’d scooped her up and was walking into the bathroom. He seemed to like carrying her around. She glanced down at the tub filling with water, steam rising from its surface. It was big enough for her, Ronan, and probably someone else. He let her down in front of the huge tub, then assisted her into the welcoming steamy water. She groaned at the feel of the hot water soothing her tired, achy muscles. A fluffy rolled towel had been placed on the back of the tub for her to rest her head comfortably. She lay back and closed her eyes. This had to be heaven.

  Ronan’s dick twitched in appreciation at the sight laid before him. He’d been rock hard since leaving the bed to make some calls. Hearing those sweet little moans had his cock trying to escape his unzipped jeans. Talk—they had to talk before they fucked again. Positioning himself behind her, he began massaging her scalp, encouraging her to relax and enjoy her bath. “I’m a Dominant, Emma.” Feeling her tense, he continued on. “I know you’ve spoken to Kat about what that means outside of the books you’ve read. She says you are intrigued with BDSM. Are you, love?”

  A part of Emma wanted to lie and say no. Simply because she hated to be different from everyone else. And admitting the idea of being dominated turned her on was definitely different in the eyes of the world. Instead she simply answered, “Yes.” She couldn’t begin to tell him just how intrigued she was with the entire lifestyle. It sounded wonderful and scary.

  “Good. We’ll start very simply. Tell me what you like about the things you read. Tell me what makes your pussy wet. What makes you reach down between those lovely legs and play with that pretty hard clit?”

  She wondered if it would be too forward to say everything you just said. Say more please. “I don’t really know. I read lots of them, and some of them have more of a hardcore feel and some are just couples playing.” Emma almost begged him to keep rubbing when he pulled his hands out of her hair. She heard rustling behind her, then he was stepping into the tub, lifting and impaling her onto his erection, the mutual groan of satisfaction the only sound in the large room.

  Ronan placed his hands on her hips to keep her from moving and encouraged her to lean into his chest, petting her when she whimpered in frustration. Patience was something they would have to work on. “Then let’s go over some things to see how you feel about them.” Reaching a hand up, he circled and worked her nipple, giving it a slight pinch. She clenched around his cock, moaning low. “I think a little bite of pain we can put in your ‘yes’ column.” Bringing her back against his chest, he moved her slowly up and down his length. Enjoying the sight of his dick sliding into her.

  “I need it harder, Ronan.” Emma felt wanton, lying in the tub, riding him.

  “Yes, you do. But we still have to talk, love. What about spanking? You don’t know how much I want to put you over my knee and turn this pale skin pink. To tie you down and lash you with a soft tanned flogger until you’re mindless with pleasure. I’ve spent many nights jacking off to the thought of you bound for me to pleasure. I picture you on your knees presenting this tight pussy for me to use.”

  “Yes, yes, that. Oh God, Ronan, please.” Emma entreated desperately, trying to rock her hips against him. He felt so good.

  He chuckled darkly. “Let me have you, Emma. Submit to me. Give me what we both want.”

  Emma knew what he wanted. She’d talked to Kat. She’d read a million books on BDSM. She wanted to try all those things he mentioned. It was just a bit overwhelming to think about. The thought of him spanking her was a bigger turn-on than anything she’d ever done with a man. Did she trust him not to break her heart? Could she take that leap of faith? Her adopted dad always told her she couldn’t expect different results if she always did the same thing.

  Emma was tired of playing it safe. She was going to take a different path this time. Pulling her arms above her, she wound them around his neck and leaned in close to his ear. “Yes, Sir.”

  She felt him tense beneath her, every muscle locking into place at her whispered words. She waited for the delicious feel of him pounding that hard cock into her over and over until they both came. She was amazed when he didn’t move, but instead spoke in a soft calm voice.

  “Touch your clit.”

  Blinking uncertainly, she unwound her hands slowly from his neck but didn’t do as he instructed.

  “I know you aren’t ignorant of what this lifestyle involves. Your use of ‘Sir’ implies an inkling of what I expect. The importance of listening and following instruction. Because you are new to this, Emma, I’m going to ignore your disobedience this one time. Touch. Your. Clit.” The words came out hard, daring her to disobey this time.

  Emma felt her pussy clench in time with each harsh word. This must be what Kat called “alpha-sphere.” His voice sounded deeper and harder, and if possible, sexier. Finding her courage, one hand descended down into the water to where they were joined together. She touched her clit with two fingers and groaned at how good it felt. She circled her fingers in a rhythm she knew would have her coming in moments.

  Ronan watched his little sub intently. When she’d called him Sir, everything in him had gone into instant upheaval, followed by blessed calm. This was his world. He was in control. Emma had gifted him that control. She was his, finally. He would cherish and give her the world. It was time to stop acting like an untried teenager and give his little love what she desired—a Master. Her breathing had turned ragged as her hand moved faster and faster on the little bundle of nerves. She was seconds away from an orgasm. Now, they’d start working on her patience. Or rather, lack thereof. Smiling wickedly, he spoke. “Give me your fingers, Emma.”

  “What? I’m ... but Ronan … please, I’m so close.” She whimpered in frustration, pressing her fingers onto her clit.

  “You will address me as Sir when we play. What did your books tell you happened to naughty little subs that ignored their Master?”

  Emma remembered in detail some of things that happened to “naughty little subs” in those books. If he did half of those things to her she’d die from embarrassment or pleasure. “There was punishment. Please, Ronan.”

  �
��That’s a count of ten, Emma.” Grasping her hair tightly in one hand he pulled until he heard her hiss in a breath. “How do you address me, sub?”

  “Sir, I’m sorry, Sir.” What was happening to her? The tugging sting at her scalp tightened her nipples and caused her to clench on his erection. She needed more, so much more of that heat. Why wouldn’t he just fuck her?

  “Ten more for not obeying a very simple command, I’m not one of those pussy Doms in your book world, Emma.” Hearing her groan in frustration, Ronan looked up to hide his smile. Poor baby, she was going to spend a lot of time with her ass in the air. “Now, unless you want ten more, give me your fingers.”

  Emma slowly brought her hand out of the shallow water and up to Ronan. He grasped the hand she’d used and sucked each finger into his mouth, never breaking eye contact. It was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen. He licked his lips one last time before placing her hand onto the side of the tub. “You taste good, little sub. Hold onto the sides tightly.”

  She placed her hands on the edges gripping tighter as he began to pound up into her pussy, lifting her body out of the water with each thrust. Oh, yes, this was what she needed. She felt her body splintering apart as an orgasm ripped through her. Several jarring strokes later, she felt him stiffen behind her in his own release. Letting go of the cold ceramic, she let herself sink back onto Ronan’s chest, sighing contentedly. She felt more than heard his chuckle.

  “The water is getting cold, love. Let’s get you out and dried off. We still have to see to your discipline.”

  Emma’s eyes popped open at that reminder. “Well, shit,” she muttered under her breath.

  * * * *

  Ronan watched Emma walk toward the bed, trepidation in each step. She was beautiful, overdressed for the Dom in him, but beautiful. He’d done everything ass backward with her. They hadn’t set limits—hell, there wasn’t even a safe word in place. He just couldn’t think straight when he was around her. Every drop of training he’d received meant shit. A switch in his brain clicked over into Neanderthal mode and only two words resonated, “fuck” and “mine.” Even now, knowing he needed to talk about limits, he wanted to push her, to just take until she had no idea there could be a world without him in it. Fuck, he was a bastard and even acknowledging it he couldn’t stop himself. “Emma, drop the towel. When we are alone I prefer you to be naked. You have a beautiful body. I want to be able to look and touch you whenever it pleases me. I want access to you at all times. Do you understand me?”