Page 64 of Fury of the Bound
Her brow lifted. “Then prove you deserve it.”
Oh, I would. With my tongue. My cock. My fingers. With every breath left in my fucking lungs. And later on, I was finding whoever the hell wrote the filth she reads and sending them a thank-you gift.
Because my girl didn’t just read those stories. She wanted to live them
I’m the luckiest fucker alive.
I scooped her up, her squeal splitting the air before I tossed her onto the bed. She bounced, wild and gorgeous, laughter spilling from her lips, and fuck if it didn’t gut me. My eyes dragged down—her breasts jiggling with the movement—and I froze, caught in the kind of spell only she could cast. “God, I wanna fuck those,” I growled, no shame, no filter. Couldn’t tear my eyes away even if I tried.
“You’re staring,” she teased, sliding back on the bed and propping herself on her elbows. Her eyes sparkled with a knowing glint, and when her legs parted, it was an invitation I didn’t need a second thought to accept.
I prowled up onto the mattress, muscles tight with restraint I didn’t really have, planting my hands on her thighs and forcing them wider until she spread just the way I wanted.
Pressing my face close enough that my breath teased her, but not touching. Not yet. “Look at you. Messy hair, lips swollen, legs wide open and begging for me. You’re so fucking perfect, baby. My perfect girl.”
She whimpered, and the noise shot straight to my cock.
Seems I’m not the only one with a praise kink.
I dragged my mouth up her inner thigh, biting hard enough to leave marks, because I wanted her painted in me. Then, finally, I buried my tongue between her folds, groaning against her like I was starved. Because I was.
Her taste was everything, and I devoured her like a man who’d never get another chance. She bucked, gasping, hands flying into my hair as I licked and sucked, praising her between every filthy moan.
“That’s it, baby… You taste so good, so perfect.”
When she cried out, thighs shaking around my head, I gripped them tighter, holding her down as I drove her higher.
“You think I’m ever letting you go?” I groaned out against her soaked pussy, tongue fucking her deep. “Not a chance. You’re mine to worship, mine to use. Always.”
And when she broke apart for me, screaming my name, I smirked against her, licking her clean like I was sealing a promise.
Because I was hers, too.
Forever.
Chapter 17
RAVENA
I can’t believe I was about to do this.
With Ronan of all people.
The sweet, funny, stupidly gorgeous man who somehow made me feel like I was more than just a nobody—like I was wanted. Cherished.
And the way he looked at me? Like I had hung the moon just for him. Those pretty blue eyes of his that held an unspoken kind of devotion hit me in the chest.
Then there was his kink.
His very specific, very hot good boy kink.
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t reread those scenes in my books a few too many times. It always fascinated me—probably because I didn’t see it written often. Most men wanted control—wanted to lead and dominate.
Not Ronan.
Ronan wanted to please. To be owned, and with the way he reacted, it was new for him, too.
Do they sell collars? I am so researching this.
