Bound by Lies: Bound #1 (Adult Romantic Suspence) (9 page)

I stop to stand in front of him. “I’m sorry, Caden.” Part of
me hates the fact that I am giving in to him again. But my only other option is
to stay angry at Caden and spend the night on opposite sides of the same room.
So close yet so far away. We did this once. The very first time we had this
argument. I was too stubborn to say sorry, so while I slept in bed, he slept on
the couch. I learned that night that Caden Thaine is more stubborn than I would
ever be. He wins that title. I gave in then like I’m giving in now.

I test the waters by reaching for his hands. I feel hope
when he lets me slip my fingers through his. We’ll be okay. We will. But when
he lifts his face to look at me, his features are etched with weariness. We’ll
be okay, won’t we?

“I don’t want to fight,” I say. “I don’t want to waste what
little time we have together. Can we start tonight again? Please?”

His features don’t change. He stares at me, his green eyes
hardened. “You resent me for my rules.”

I war internally for a split second as to whether to lie to
him. But I don’t. I nod slightly. “I just want to touch you so badly.”

“I know. I thought I could give you everything you need, but
I can’t.” His features turn fierce and he yanks me forward with his hands on my
hips so that I stand between his knees and his face presses into my breasts.
His fingers tighten into fists, crushing my dress material between them. I hold
my hands up in the air, not sure where to place them.

His voice rumbles through my heart as he talks against my
chest. “Don’t you think I want so desperately for you to touch me, too? Don’t
you? I dream about it, kitten. When I am asleep and when I’m awake, it is all I
dream about.”

“Then why…?” I stop talking. It is a question that can’t be
answered. Whatever the reason, Caden is not willing to expose it to me and I
must respect his need for silence. I sigh. I lower my hands on his head and run
my fingers through his hair. He sighs against me. “Will… will you ever tell me
why?”

Caden doesn’t answer. Suddenly his fists clutch my hips and
he pushes me away so I stand at arm’s length. My stomach pains as if someone is
wringing it in their hands. He doesn’t meet my eye. I try to catch his eye, but
he won’t look at me. He won’t look at me.

He clears his throat. “Maybe if I can’t give you what you
need… Maybe this isn’t enough for you anymore? Maybe we should–”

“No. Don’t say it.” I reach for his face. “I’m sorry. It’s
enough. It’s enough. I just… I’m sorry, forget I said anything.”

Part of me inside hates myself for my behavior. I hate
relenting to him. I hate apologizing for something that isn’t my fault. But I
can’t stand the thought of losing him. It would be like cutting off oxygen to
my lungs. He is my air. And I need to keep breathing. I’m not strong enough to
find a way to live without him. I don’t want to have to try.

I search his face. He still looks weary and uncertain. I
could still lose this battle. I have to do something to make things right
again. I have to do something to prove to him that I am truly sorry.

I step back out of his reach and his hands fall off my hips.
Only then does he look up to me. I reach behind me and find the zipper at the
top of my dress. I draw it down and let the silk fall off my shoulders and skim
over my hips to the floor. I can see a flinch in his features like he is about
to tell me to stop trying to cover up our problems. So I quickly I unclip my
bra and pull it from my body. His eyes widen in surprise. I have never taken
the initiative to undress myself.

“Kitten…”

He still sounds uncertain about us. I have to keep going. I
force a smile onto my face. “How about… every time I want to touch you, I touch
myself instead?”

I keep my eyes on him as I run my hands across my stomach
and up to cup my breasts. I pretend they are his hands. I brush the tips of my
fingers across my nipples and the sensation makes my lips part to draw in a
breath. His mouth parts as he watches me. I notice the creases in his forehead
starting to soften. Yes, it’s working.

I drop one hand down my stomach, slip it inside my panties
and touch myself between my legs. This time I moan.

“Take them off. I want to see what you’re doing.”

I draw in a breath and my body trembles with a flush of
nerves. Do I dare be so bold in front of him? I peel my underwear down off my
body and step out of them. I stand back up slowly, legs pressed together to
stop them from shaking, my gaze cast to the floor. My hand slides up my thigh
to touch the spot just above where I am all wet.

“Open your legs wider.”

My breath hitches, but I do as he says, taking two small
steps out to the side.

“Wider.”

I swallow. My eyes flicker closed because I feel braver in
the dark. And it is in the dark that I am taken to when I am blinded and
stripped for my Caden. And I feel stronger. So I step out wider as I imagine
Caden’s knees knocking my legs apart. I let my fingers slide right down between
my legs, spreading my slickness all over me.

I hear him hum in approval from the bed, and knowing this is
turning him on spurs me on further. In my mind and in this darkness, it is his
hands on me. My breathing becomes heavy as he teases me, rubbing me just the
way I like it. And his other hand brushes across my breasts. I moan as he dips
a finger into me. God, it feels so good, but I need more. He slips in another
finger and starts to move them inside me, grinding the heel of his palm against
me. I whimper.

“Look at me, kitten.”

I swallow, then let my eyelids open. He is watching me with
hooded eyes from the bed. And suddenly they aren’t his hands on me but my own.
And he isn’t the one fucking me with his fingers, I am. I feel a flush of heat
in my cheeks. Before I can withdraw my hands he growls. “That looks so fucking
amazing. Don’t stop.”

I close my eyes and start to–

“Keep them open.”

Shit. I force my eyes open. He is leaning back on the bed on
his hands and he is watching me, his tongue languidly licking around his mouth,
his excitement evident in the strain of his pants. I can barely look at him as
I start to move against myself again.

He groans. And it sends a rush through me. I move with more
confidence as the flush of shame is slowly replaced by a wave of pressure. I
start to roll my hips from side to side as if I am dancing. And I meet his
gaze.

Soon, I am rocking my hips forward against my hand and the noises
coming out of my throat are unrestrained. Caden’s eyes – and the heat and the
fire in them – are almost all I can see. My legs are trembling as I climb to
this peak and I’m almost… almost…

“
Yes
, kitten.”

His soft demand pushes me over the edge. My insides shatter
and I am liquid stars. Unable to support myself anymore, I start to fall like
dust and ash returning to the ground. But I don’t land. I smell wood smoke and
home as he cradles me in his arms. I feel myself floating and floating. Then
the softness of the mattress underneath me. The bed shifts as Caden lays
himself around me and pulls me back into him as the feeling returns to my
limbs.

I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are
jade with lust and I can see he is itching to run his hands over me. But he
doesn’t yet. He waits. The only remnant of our argument is a small pinch at his
brows.

For a moment I am too aware of my curiosity. Oh God. This
feeling has grown so big that it barely fits the box I’ve built to contain it.
It takes a great force to push it shut and click the latch. A sense of dread
waves through me. It is only a matter of when – not if – the latch will spring.

When – but not now. For now, it is contained. And what Caden
and I have is enough.

I lift my arms above my head in an offering of submission.

In the darkness behind my blindfold, I hear Caden hum as if
in thought. “Where should I start?”

I am laid out with my wrists tied to the headboard. I arc my
back and shove my breasts out towards him.
There, please?

Instead he chuckles. “Patience.”

Yes, this man is good at testing my patience. I contemplate
tearing at my bonds. They are just silky ties after all. Surely I could rip
through them if I were strong enough.

He closes his teeth around the flesh of my upper arm, just
enough until it is almost too much. I cry out and he releases me. Where his
teeth leave a dull ghost of pain he brushes something which feels like soft
velvet, causing a crackling of sensation to run along my skin. It is so light
it’s almost painful. What is it?

I feel a light slap on my inner thigh, then the softness
again. More crackles under my skin. My body continues to heat as he places curt
slaps and bites across my body, down my arms and my legs and along my side, and
follows each one up with a stroke of this soft thing, each caress growing
longer and longer. The sensation is so soft and yet it sears me. My body reacts
against it by clenching tightly.

It’s only when it kisses along my jaw and I smell the
distinct floral scent that I know that it’s,

“A rose,” I gasp.

“Yes. It is open and pink and soft. Just like you.”

He licks across my nipple. The cold air against it makes it
pinch into a bud. Then he bites it hard. I moan under my breath. And finally
the rose trails across my breasts.

I feel the heel of his palm strike my clit in a firm slap. I
gasp. Under his hand the dull pain bursts out like a small firework. The rose
travels over my hips, which buck involuntarily, then down between my legs. The
mixture of pain and searing lightness is so fucking exquisite I could cry.

“Please,” I pant, “again.”

He continues to tease me across my body, my breasts, my
clit. Hard and soft, pain and pleasure.

On and on until my head is spinning and I can’t think
straight. I need him so badly that I start to whimper. I am tugging on my binds
so hard I’m sure I would feel pain around my wrists if I could indeed feel
anything above this desperate need for him. I am begging. Crying. At this point
I don’t care I just need–

I moan with relief when he shifts on the bed to kneel
between my legs. The rose leaves my skin. I hear a soft plucking noise. As he
thrusts inside me, petals drift across my body like silken rain. Hard and soft.
Pleasure and pain.

This is Caden to me. This is what I love.

When our love making is over, I lie under the darkness of
the blindfold, my body feeling like warm mist. Every time I am here like this
with Caden I feel a strange sense of peace. I am no longer a broken girl, a
lonely soul, a scared runaway. I just… am.

I can hear Caden across the room, putting on clothes as he
always does after we finish. I can smell him from here, all man and wood smoke
and the musk of sex. It gets stronger as he nears me. I wriggle against the
silky sheets under my bare ass and back for my audience. I can hear his little hum
of appreciation as I feel his eyes travel all the way up and down my body.

“I’m tempted to keep you here just like this.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

He laughs softly. “My insatiable kitten.”

“Only with you.”

Yes, only with him. He does something to me that no one else
does. The scent of his hair and the shape of his arms and the timbre of his
voice. Like he was designed just to unlock these parts of me. I may be broken,
but I am no longer closed off.

The mattress shifts as he sits by my side. He lifts the
blindfold from my eyes. I have to blink and wait a moment before my eyes
adjust. I can’t help the smile that rushes across my face. He has wrapped
himself tightly in a white bathrobe. He has my favorite look on; all hooded
eyes and lopsided grin.

I feel the ties loosen and slip away. He leans against the
headboard and pulls me against him so I’m nestled with my back against his
chest. His arms wrap around me. Using his thumbs he caresses the marks around
my wrists where I pulled against my restraints.

“Cade?”

“Hmmm.”

“What do you eat for breakfast?”

I can feel him chuckling behind me. “Why? You want to cook
for me? You know I can’t stay for breakfast, kitten.”

“I know. I just…” Will I sound silly? I sigh. “It just feels
weird to be so close to you and not even know what you eat for breakfast. I
guess I just wanted to know.”

He relaxes behind me. I think he understands. “Oats.
Sometimes I chuck a little fruit into it. Eggs if I have more time.”

“And do you read the paper?”

“Yes.”

I smile. Any piece of information I get about him makes me
smile. It’s like every time I know a little bit more about him, he becomes a
little more mine.

We finish our routine. I shower first, alone. Then he does.
He takes in his overnight bag with him so that he can dress before he comes
back out again. Just as the bathroom door unlocks a small hope blips in me that
maybe this time he won’t have dressed yet or maybe he has left his shirt off.
Every time, my heart sinks.

We settle in to sleep with him behind me, one arm wrapped over
me. But in the soft dim shaded silver with moonlight filtering through all the
open windows, I can’t fall sleep tonight. I stare at the silhouette of the
dining table and the small kitchenette. I see myself cooking eggs for Caden at
the stove. He would come up behind me and nestle his nose in my hair and
whisper good morning. We would sit down together and I would slip the paper by
his plate and look at him across our breakfast table. He would smile back at me
and reach across for my hand.

Stupid girl. It’s no good for me to wish these things. It is
no good for me to dream. The images dissolve and a sadness falls over me like
snow. No, we aren’t normal people and we aren’t a normal couple. And we will
never be.

I am startled out of my thoughts when Caden’s breathing
deepens into the rumble of a light snore. Cade has fallen asleep before me. He
has never fallen asleep before me. He is a light sleeper and he always seems to
wake as well if I ever wake in the night. Suddenly I am completely aware of him
behind me. I can feel his chest pushing at my back with every inhale and his
breath moving my hair with every exhale.

I want desperately to know what he looks like when he’s
sleeping. I could turn and look at him. Just look at him. Just one look. No
harm in looking, right? I wouldn’t be breaking any rules…

I start to turn, slowly, shifting minutely so as not to
disturb his arm laying over me then pausing so as not to wake him. I tense up
when he shifts. My heart is beating heavily but steadily. He mumbles something.
And I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. He’s going to wake any minute
now. Any minute now.

I hear him mumble again. Then he seems to settle. He didn’t
wake? When I hear his breathing even out again, I count five full excruciatingly
slow minutes before I open my eyes and start to move again. Slowly, slowly, he
comes into view as I turn to face him.

If it is possible, he’s even more beautiful when he’s
asleep. The hardness of his jaw has softened and his lips fall into a relaxed
pout. He looks young and vulnerable. I can’t help the smile that pulls at my
lips. This big loving bear of a man is mine. My Cade. I want to press my lips
to his. I want to touch his face. I want to brush the hair from his forehead. But
I don’t. Surely it will wake him.

Then my eyes travel down his thick neck and to his wide
chest. I have never laid my hand on his chest but even through this thin dark
t-shirt I can see the fullness of his solid muscles. The skin that peaks out
from the top of his shirt teases me with the start of dark curls. My fingers
flinch out, but I hold them back. I am aching to touch him. But I can’t. I
shouldn’t.

Rule number two: He can touch me, but I can’t touch him.

Why the hell not?
a voice in me demands like an
obstinate child.
He is mine, surely I can touch what is mine.

No. No. Those are the rules. Remember the rules.

So I stare at the patch of skin I can see at the top of his
shirt. I wonder what the skin there would feel like. Hard yet smooth, I
imagine. I can’t tear my eyes from his skin. Do I dare?

Just one touch when he is asleep. Just one. There is no harm
in that, is there?

I check his face. His eyes are still closed. He sounds like
he is still asleep.

Just one touch. He would never have to know.

I am barely breathing as I bend my elbow and lift my hand.
My movements are torturously slow, a contrast to the rapid increase of my
heartbeat. Slow. Controlled. Closer. Closer. I pause an inch away from his
chest. Did his breath hitch? My eyes flicker between his face and his chest. No.
I don’t think he’s awake. His breathing is steady and he hasn’t moved.

I uncurl my fingers and brush the collar of his shirt,
lightly. I thrill with the forbidden contact. But I still haven’t touched
him
.
I reach out further until my fingertips brush at the hair at the base of his
neck.

He moves so fast my body jolts. His fingers clamp down on my
wrist so tightly I swear it almost breaks. His eyes open before they narrow.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice pools like
blackened liquid in my ears and it give me chills.

I gape but nothing comes out of my mouth.

“I said, what the hell are you doing?” he yells.

For a moment I can’t speak. My body and my heart are frozen
in ice and I am numb except for where he is gripping me. Gripping me tighter
than he has ever gripped me before. And I realize he is hurting me. I try to
pull away, but his grip tightens.

“You’re hurting me,” I whisper as I fight the urge to cry.
Caden is hurting me. He means to hurt me.

“You’re hurting me, Jacob”

“I’m hurting you? You’re fucking hurting me, princess.”
He slams his left hand against his chest and it makes a sharp deep thudding
noise. “Right here. You’re hurting me right fucking here.”

Caden looks down to my wrist. As if he just realized it, he
snatches his hand away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” The darkness fades from
his eyes. But it’s replaced with a ghost.

Then the glare he gives me is so unkind it crushes me.

“What were you doing?” he asks again. The volume of his
voice has lowered, but his words are short and clipped and it pinches at my
heart.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to look at you. You look so
peaceful when you sleep.”

His eyes narrow even further. He knows that I’m lying.

“Turn around.”

I do. But he doesn’t throw his arm around me or tuck me into
his body like he usually does.

“I thought you understood the rules. I thought I could trust
you.” His voice is hard and devoid of warmth. I fight the urge to shiver.

“You can.” I whimper. Shit. I’m an idiot. Stupid, stupid
girl.

“So why would you try to go against me?”

I want to scream at him, “Because this urge to know you
grows with every night we spend together. Because I wear this curiosity under
my clothes and it’s rough and itches at my skin. Because I burn with unfairness
that you can see me and touch me but I can’t see or touch you back.” But I
don’t.

“I would never deliberately hurt you, kitten. Never. But if
you try to break my rules again… it would have to be over between us.”

“Over?” My voice shakes. No. Over a stupid rule? But why?
That doesn’t even make sense.

“How can I be with you if I no longer trust you?”

I go cold with fear. He can’t leave me. He can’t. I’ll die.
The emptiness and loneliness that was there before he came into my life will
yaw wide open and swallow me and I will starve in this desert of my own making.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” I
squeeze my eyes shut and pray that I can keep this curiosity at bay.

“Go to sleep,” he orders.

I don’t argue. “I’m sorry.” I say it again, hoping that it
makes a difference.

I lay there terrified. Terrified because I can feel that
this need to uncover Caden is growing into something I can’t contain anymore.
Even at the risk of losing him forever. Am I sadistic? Am I so messed up that I
am trying to sabotage the only happiness in my life?

Strangely enough, the risk of losing him just makes the need
to get inside his life that much stronger. The more I know about him, the more
I need to know. I can see this vicious cycle tunneling out into my future,
turning back upon itself over and over until it disappears into a single point.
A single fixation.

I can only pray that the next time I break his rules, I
won’t get caught.

By morning, like always, Caden is gone. As I wake, I am left
scrabbling for a ghost and clutching at sheets that have already gone cold. For
a moment I wonder if I have dreamed him up, if Caden is only a figment of my
imagination. Then I feel the lovely tenderness between my legs and the slight soreness
around my wrists and I know he is real.

I shut my eyes as the wave of emptiness rushes in. I miss
him already. I try to force myself to sleep so I can go a little longer without
the sinking, bludgeoning knowledge that he has gone and that I don’t know when
I’ll see him again.

But sleep doesn’t come, not when the pillow smells of his
hair and the sheets smell like us. And the scent of rose petals release into
the air around me as I roll over them and crush them. A sharp need tightens my
belly as I remember how the roses came to be scattered around the bed last
night.

I wonder if I’ll ever be able to smell roses again without
thinking of Caden. Even if it was someone else giving me those roses. He didn’t
lie when he said he would ruin me for all other men.