Bound by Lies: Bound #1 (Adult Romantic Suspence) (7 page)

His lips crush back onto mine and he squeezes me against him
with so much pressure so that I can barely breathe. There is so much glorious
heated pressure from inside out and outside in. I feel his wide hands spread
across the small of my back. God they are so big they almost fit around me
completely. I am so small and vulnerable under his hands, but somehow I feel
strong and powerful.

The music becomes deeper, rougher, and it shudders through
the air as if it is making love to it.

I pull away. I need to know, “How much more?” My voice is
breathy and shaky, but I stare at him, a challenge in my eyes. How much more
will he give me? How much of him will he let me have?

He draws in a deep breath as if to calm himself. His hands
come up to hold my face. He holds my gaze and it feels like he is making a
promise, “I will only take whatever you are prepared to give me.”

“Everything.” You can have it all. My body, my heart, my
soul. It’s yours, Caden. It is already yours. But I don’t say this.

I try to grab for him, but he holds me out by my shoulders.
I whimper and reach for him again, but he won’t let me touch him. So I run my
fingers along his thick forearms, the only part of him my shorter limbs can
reach. Oh my God. I have never felt anything so masculine and brutal and it
just makes me feel so much more desperate to touch the rest of him.

His eyes flutter closed and he sighs – a sigh that I can
feel through the limited contact we have. I wait for him to move, but he
doesn’t. He opens his eyes again and I see… fear. Oh God, what’s wrong? My
heart skips a beat when I see a frown start to play on his face. “Kitten, I
want to make love to you.”

“Yes,” I cry. The aching need under my skin crackles like
electricity.

But the pain doesn’t leave his face. I hold my breath.
Something isn’t right. My heart sinks when I realize that it isn’t going to
happen. He made me wait three months to kiss him, he is going to keep making me
wait to have sex. He keeps me close yet so far away. From both his body and his
heart.

I should stop this whole nonsense now. I should walk away
from this man who I am already falling for, who I know will eventually hurt me
with how he keeps me at a distance. Who hurts me now by literally holding me
away from him.

But… I can’t. I am already his. I have already given in to
him. I am already bound. I accept whatever is coming.

He speaks, “I want to make love to you, but…”

“But?” At once I am struck by fear. But what? Did I admit
too much? Was that the wrong thing to say? Is he horrified that I would so
willingly give up my body to him? “Say something, Cade. What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head like he is trying to shake off this demon
who torments him.

“Tell me.” I want to know. I
need
to know.

“Kitten, please don’t think this is about you…” On his face
I see an inner tragedy play out. “I just… there is something… I have waited for
this, for you... and I’m not sure you’ll really want me.”

He isn’t sure that I want him? My head spins with the
absurdity of this statement. How can he say that? He can’t really mean it. He
can’t.

But here he is, standing before me, chewing on his lip and
watching me with forlorn eyes.

“How could you ever think that?” I whisper and I reach out
to stroke his face. He lets me. “I want you so badly. I need you. I need you
like I need to breathe.” I press myself back up against him like I am trying to
merge us together. “Maybe it’s you who doesn’t want me.”

“No,” he hisses through his teeth as I push my hips against
his. He is already hard. “Kitten, I haven’t wanted any woman as much as I want
you in a long, long time.”

“Then, please, why are we waiting?”

“There is something I have to tell you but… I am not sure
whether you will still want to afterwards. I’m not sure you will want… me
anymore.”

“There is nothing you can say that will make me want you
less.” I can see in his eyes that he is still unsure. “Caden, it’s your turn to
trust me.”

A softness comes over his face. Then he nods. “Okay. We’ll
take it slow, okay? Bit by bit to get you used to it,” he says as his hands
explore my thighs over the silk of my dress.

I pull back far enough to frown at him. “Used to what?”

“My needs are… unorthodox. But I would never hurt you,” he adds
quickly. “You know that, don’t you?”

I nod.

“Do you trust me? Will you try… for me?”

A small trickle of uncertainty runs down my spine. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

I nod and push a smile to my face. “Okay.”

He nods, but he still looks grim. He pulls away and unwraps
my arms from around his neck. “Will you do something for me? Will you hold out
your index fingers for me like this?” He holds his fingers chest-level,
pointing to each other. I mimic him.

He pulls out a small weaved tube from his pocket. “Do you
know what this is?”

I shake my head, still holding my fingers out.

“It’s a Chinese finger trap. Here, let me show you.”

He places one of my index fingers deep into an open end,
then pushes my other finger into the other end so that my fingers are almost
touching inside the tube. “Now try to pull your fingers apart.”

I do, but the weaving of the trap tightens around my
fingers, holding them together. A shiver runs through me and my eyes widen.

“All you have to do to release it is push your fingers
together.”

I do, and the trap loosens its grip on me. Before I can take
the trap off, he pulls my arms up and over his head. I have to reach up to get
them around his neck so my fingers pull the trap tight again. He leans into me
filling up my senses with his presence.

“Tell me, is that so bad to have your fingers trapped like
that?” he asks, concern marring his face as he studies me.

I shake my head. “Not when they are trapped around you.”

He leans down into me. This time his kisses almost hurt. His
lips pressing against mine are insistent. Demanding. Taking. He is no longer
asking. His tongue forces its way between my lips, searching for mine, and they
fight one another in a provocative war. I ache to touch him. But as I tug, the
grip around my fingers tightens so my hands are trapped out of reach.

His hands are free to roam my body. They close over my
breasts through the satin, alternating between tender cupping and caresses
which make my skin awaken to an aching sensitivity, and hard pinches of my
nipples which send throbs to my core. Each one heightening the sensation of the
other. I buck against him.

His hands run down my side and round my ass. He lifts one of
my legs and hooks it around his waist so that my most tender spot presses up
against his hardness making me gasp. My skirt is forced to skim up my thighs
revealing where my stockings hook into my garters. With one arm he holds me
against him. His other hand runs up and down my lifted leg, pulling and
flicking the garter straps against my thigh, causing small exquisite snaps of
pain. I moan. I’m sure he can feel I am soaking through my lace panties.

Holding my hip still, he rocks his hips gently and slowly
against me, telling me that he is controlling the pace. My lace rubs along the
length of his hardness and my insides spasm with pleasure. I moan into his
mouth. God, please, more.

And we rock. He moves faster. And I swear my underwear is
just going to burn away from all this heat and friction. My head and my body are
almost hurting from all this pressure inside. God, I just need him.

But he stops, letting out a grunt. “Wait,” he growls,
lowering my leg and pulling my hands from around his neck. “Stay here.”

What. The. Hell.

“You’re leaving me?” I can feel myself shaking with an
immediate cold rage.

“Kitten, I’m just going over there.” He points across the
room.

“What the hell for?”

He doesn’t answer this. “I’m coming back. Promise. And then
we’re getting naked. Very. Very. Naked.”

Fuck. I shiver. “Okay. Hurry up.”

As he walks across the room I notice a metal contraption
attached to the far wall that I haven’t noticed before. It looks like a fire
hose wrapped around a wheel, except this isn’t a fire hose. It has a thick
chain and some sort of pulley up in the roof that the chain extends up to. He
starts to wind something and I hear the rattling of metal and clinking from
above. I look up. It is the other end of the chain hanging from the ceiling. On
the end is a pair of leather straps with rigid grips. Oh. My God.

I yank against my wrists which are held together in
chains, bleeding from the rough cold iron. The blackout curtains shut out the
world, the only light coming from the dimmed wall lamps of Jacob’s bedroom.

In this dark abandoned building, I stare, frozen to the spot
while Caden lowers the chain towards me. The clinking stops and the loose chain
end thrashes a little before falling into a soft sway. I look over to see him
walking back towards me.

“Rule number two: I can touch you but you can’t touch me.”

“You want to restrain me.” I choke out as he stops before
me.

“Jacob, please,” I croak. My mouth is dry. I need water.
My stomach is tight from not having eaten. “I can’t take anymore.”

“No.” I can hear the scowl in his voice. “I will tell you
when you’ve had enough.”

I shrink back from Caden, feeling a tremble taking me over.
I can’t. No. I can’t. I start to back away. “No. You can’t force me−”

“No, kitten.” He shakes his head. “I’m not forcing you. I
would never force you. This will always be your choice. But this rule is very
important to me. Very important to me. We can take it slowly. I won’t close the
straps around your wrist. You can just be restrained by the finger trap. You
can push your fingers together and release yourself at any time. And if you do
so, I will stop.”

He can touch me but I can’t touch him. I look between the
chain and him, my head whipping back and forth in a shake. “No. No restraints.”

“Kitten, I can’t make love to you unless your hands are
bound.”

“What? Why?”

A flare of darkness behind his eyes makes them look black. A
cold chill blows across the heated desire still running through my body.

“Kitten, I would never hurt you, you know that. I have my
reasons for needing this, but I can’t explain them to you. You just have to
trust me. You do trust me, don’t you?”

Manipulative bastard. I already said I trusted him before we
entered the abandoned building and now I feel like I can’t go back on my word.
Slowly, slowly, he is pushing out the edge of my trust. Slowly, slowly, he is
walking me towards something in the dark that I cannot see.

I eye the restraints. I eye him. I rub my thumb over the
weaved trap still clinging to one of my index fingers.

“I trust you,” I whisper, “But…” It’s too familiar.

“If you want me to stop at any point, it doesn’t matter how
far into it we are, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

“What if you don’t?” I ask quietly.

“Do you want a safe word?”

“What’s a safe word?”

He frowns. “A safe word. It’s your control, kitten. You just
say it if you want things to stop and I’ll stop.”

I blink, my mind getting used to the idea. A safe word.
Caden is giving me a safe word. A gift.

I hear him growl. “No one ever gave you a safe word?”

A shot of heat hits the back of my eyeballs and I look away
before I start to cry. No. No one ever gave me a safe word. I was never given
control, I always had to take it and even then, it was a lie. Not even when I
was fucking those men in the booths of Bound did I ever really have control.

Caden’s palms come up to cup my face and he pulls up so that
I am looking at him. Against the firmness of his hands I realize I am shaking.
He peers at me. “I know this seems so messed up. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell
you… everything. I wish I could give you… more, but I can’t. I want to love
you. But this is the only way I know how. But it’s your choice, kitten. If you
can’t accept this… me… I understand. I won’t be mad.”

And I realize he is broken inside just like I am. Beautiful
broken pieces. We are both broken pieces, but together we can fight to be
whole. Together we can start healing.

The look in his eyes is so tender and pleading that my heart
aches for him. The reason why doesn’t matter right now. I want him, Caden
Thaine, broken pieces and all. And I want him to cherish my broken pieces.

I nod and step away from him, slipping out of his hands so
that I am standing directly under the chain. This close I can see that the
restraints are made of two leather cuffs meant to buckle around the wrists.
Above them are two hand grips for the restrainee to hold onto. I lift my arms
as if I am asking him to take off my shirt. Instead I am asking him to help me
restrain myself. The love on his face cracks open the shell of pain across his
features when he realizes what I am doing. For him. For us.

He takes a step before me. “Thank you,” he whispers as he
traces his fingers up the undersides of my arms before maneuvering my hands
onto the grips. I hold the foamy grips with my fingers except for my index
fingers, one finger still in the end of the trap. Caden pushes my other index
finger into the other side of the trap. As he promised, he doesn’t buckle the
cuffs but leaves them open.

I force myself to take a calming breath. Then I test the
Chinese finger trap. He is right. I am forced to stand with my arms up above me
while my fingers are in the trap, but if I push my fingers in I can loosen it
and free myself.

“Are you okay, kitten?” He is watching me with concern, as
if at any moment I might freak out.

My resolve firms. If this is how he wants to make love to me
– no, if this is the only way he
can
make love to me, I will accept it.
I have accepted it. I will do this for him. I will prove to him that he can
trust me and that I trust him. Because one day I may need him to understand why
I am broken.