Page 49 of Corrupted Union

“We’ll get her out of there, I promise.” I had no business making such an assurance when the girl might not even be alive at this point, yet I couldn’t stop myself. The deep-seated need to give Rowan the world was a compulsion I couldn’t contain.

She lifted our hands, untangling our fingers to get a closer look at my hand. At the matching tattoo on my ring finger. She gently touched the marking. “Why did you do this? Is it some kind of family tradition?”

“Not that I know of.”

“It’s going to make divorce awfully complicated.”

“Good thing I have no plans of ever divorcing.” My words hung like steam in the air.

She wiggled around to look back at me. “You didn’t just do this for the short term?”

I held up my hand. “Does this look short term to you?”

“But you hardly know me.”

“I know enough.”

Electricity heated the air around us as Rowan’s eyes dropped to my lips. Slowly, she turned her body all the way around until her front was pressed against mine. My cock was instantly rock hard.

I cupped her waist, my hips arching to press my dick against her belly, a voracious hunger demanding more of her. When her lips met mine, my head spun with relief. I devoured her kiss like a man surfacing for air after being rolled by the tide.

I’d tried to be patient. I’d given her time to process and kept my hands to myself—in the shower and when her body lay next to mine in our bed. I’d done everything I could to be honorable, but that well had run dry. Her small offering was all the assurance I’d needed to claim what was mine.

Water was terrible lube, however, and my friend would be pissed if I flooded his house, so I forced myself to sever our connection and guided us to our feet. I was too drunk on her for towels, though. My lips were instantly drawn back to hers, my feet walking us blindly to the bed.

Rowan smiled through our kiss. “We’re soaked, Keir. We’ll get the bed all wet.”

“It’ll dry,” I grumbled as I lay her back and spread her legs wide. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

I hadn’t seena razor in days, let alone used one, so I started to panic when Keir spread me wide.

If he saw something he didn’t like, it sure didn’t show. His mouth was on me in an instant, licking and sucking at my center with such dedication, my brain short-circuited.

“You say you know me …” I murmured distractedly. “Then you know … I’m fucked up.”

“Aren’t we all?” He dragged his bottom teeth gently up my slit, then nipped at my clit with exquisite delicacy. “If you only knew the depraved things I wanted to do to you, you’d understand.”

I opened my eyes, my stare colliding with his. “Show me,” I breathed.

His eyes dilated until only a sliver of turquoise remained. “I’m not sure you’re ready for that. You like to feel in control, Rowan. I want to take it from you.”

My heart skittered in a frantic dance devoid of rhythm. “Show me,” I repeated more firmly. Even though his proposition terrified me, I wanted it more than anything.

“Don’t move.” His words caressed my skin with their dark promise.

He was gone for several minutes, his absence stoking my anticipation to maddening heights. When he returned, he held a bundle of yellow utility cord in one hand and what looked like a spatula and a pair of scissors in the other. Nerves clamped down on my lungs, but just like the day I met him, I wasn’t scared. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

“Come here.” Keir placed the scissors on the dresser and watched me inch forward with a predatory glint in his eye. “This nylon rope isn’t ideal, so we’ll have to be careful not to give you burns. Lift your arms.” His voice grew ragged as freshly mined granite.

With deft hands, he slid sections of rope through his fingers until he was satisfied with the length. The cord was relatively new but still more abrasive than the silk variety would be. I sort of preferred it that way. This strange connection forming between us was raw and unrefined. It seemed only fitting the physical binds be the same.

Keir positioned himself behind me, bringing the rope around my ribs and securing it somehow at my back. “Turn to your left.”

I did a small circle. Every nerve in my body focused on his touch as he guided the rope under my breasts. Once I’d performed a full turn, he worked the rope at my back, then nudged me to continue turning, this time guiding the cord to rest just above my breasts.

Everything about the process felt intimate and erotic. Even without the power dynamic driving up the intensity of this shared experience, the emotional vulnerability alone would give me pause if it were anyone but Keir standing before me. With him, I wasn’t embarrassed or uncertain. How could I be when he watched me with such ardent concentration? The molten desire swirling in those turquoise depths made me feel priceless. TheMona Lisacome to life.

I completed several more turns, the rope wrapping around my body in different ways each time until my chest was a zigzag of yellow cord, save for my breasts. They were squeezed plump from their confinement like roses blooming from a vase, a centerpiece to be admired.

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