Bound for Nirvana: (The Bound Trilogy Book 3) (10 page)

The whole thing seemed to unfold before me like a scene from a movie, my mind filtering all thoughts until only one remained. How much shit was I going to be in for this?

“
You
had it under control?” Ethan turned his glare on Dylan. “I’ll be the one to decide if the motherfucker needs a slap. Nobody puts their hands on my woman.
Nobody
.” He emphasized the final word in a pointed warning.

Dylan shook his head. “Look, I get it, man. Everybody gets it—nothing comes between the two of you. But I get it because I can see the love on Angel’s face when she looks at you, not because
you
insist. I know where her heart belongs, it’s just a pity you don’t see it.”

Ethan had the grace to look contrite as Dylan’s words splashed him in the face like a bucket of cold water, instantly cooling his anger. He nodded once at Dylan. “Sorry.”

Dylan shrugged. “Forget it. Just know that when she’s in here without you, I’ve got her back—that’s all. She’s my friend.”

Ethan nodded again. “Yeah. Thanks.” He pointed at the douche on the floor who was being helped up by his friend, his hand still cradling his jaw.

“I’ll take care of him,” Dylan assured him. “You just see to Angel.” He smiled sympathetically in my direction and offered me an encouraging wink.

Sorry
, I mouthed. He shook his head indicating that I shouldn’t worry.

“Jackson is outside. Go and get in the car,” Ethan instructed me wearily.

Knowing better than to argue, I turned without a word and made my way swiftly through the building crowd at the bar and out to the street. As I emerged, Jackson was pouring Jia into a cab and handing the driver some money. She waved and then pointed at me, making a slitting throat gesture with her finger across her neck and laughing. I shook my head mirthlessly and held up my hand in an unimpressed wave as the cab pulled out into traffic.

Jackson opened the rear door of the SUV and stood aside for me to get in. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even smile, just closed the door after me and climbed into the front. He was mad with me as well.

Seconds later, Ethan joined me, his face the embodiment of stoicism. Instead of shifting toward the middle of the seat as he usually would, he remained on his half, his gaze focused on the road through the side window. His hands were balled into fists, laid tensely on his thighs, the knuckles of his right hand beginning to swell and bruise. Wincing, I reached out and touched his hand gently, my intrinsic need to soothe and repair him too strong to resist. Although he didn’t pull away, I could sense him stiffen as he battled the urge to.

“I’m sorry, E. Please don’t be mad at—”

“Why do you insist on defying me, Angel?” The tone of his voice was as penetrating as the glare he turned on me.

“I don’t, not intentionally.”

“Not intentionally?” He gasped in exasperation, and losing his battle of will, pulled his hand away and turned back toward the window.

“E?” I pleaded. “Ethan?” He ignored me. “Please don’t give me the silent treatment, I can’t bear it.”

Immediately, he turned to face me, his glazed expression suddenly filled with remorse. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to. But I’m fucking angry. You drive me fucking crazy.” His hands reached up to gather fistfuls of hair, and I felt suddenly ashamed. One, for suggesting his reason for not talking to me even slightly resembled the way my father treated me, and two, for making him crazy, period.

“Let me help, E. Let me make you feel better.”

“You can’t,” he snapped with frustration. “Just let me be angry, woman, at least until we get home.”

I could help and I would.

Maybe it was the alcohol sending the raging fire through my blood, or maybe it was the forceful tone of Ethan’s voice, but suddenly I knew exactly what to do. Reaching out, I thumped a button on the control console, and the electric divider separating us from the driver’s compartment slid into place. Shifting swiftly from the seat, I slid to my knees and positioned myself between his legs.

“What are you doing?” he asked, genuinely confused.

I reached for the clasp on his pants, undoing it swiftly before moving onto the zipper and tugging it down gently.

“Angel, what the fuck?” He reached out to stop me, but I batted his hands away, reaching deftly inside his pants and boxers to free his rapidly stiffening cock.

“Hush.” I tightened my fist around the base and watched as the blood flooded his entire length, making him swell and extend as it rushed to the smooth, pulsing head.

Looking up, my gaze locked with his wide, storm-filled eyes, but the way his breathing came in shocked grasping breaths suggested I was affecting him just as planned.

The thought delighted me and I licked my lips. “Don’t ever tell me I can’t make you feel better.” Leaning forward, I flicked my tongue over the head, inducing the desired response as he jerked violently inside my fisted hand.

“Fuck!” The word hissed from his lungs like scolding steam, his hands moving to his sides, palms down on the plush leather seat to brace for the inescapable onslaught. I lashed out again, my tongue circling the throbbing head of his penis and dipping into the slit to collect the bead of warm, sticky eagerness. Then suddenly, I pulled back, a single, sassy brow raised in question.

Ethan growled, his lips parting full and blood-red from the sudden, unpredicted surge of arousal. “Do it,” he commanded.

With a jubilant curl of my lip, I lowered my head and opened my mouth, pushing my swollen lips over the slick, silken head. It glided across my tongue to the back of my throat as I opened it up as wide as I could, accepting his size in warm welcome. The action caused him to release his grip on the leather seating and thrust his hands into my hair, holding me firmly on either side of my head to still me. I paused, allowing him to adjust to the tight, heated enclosure, his cock pulsing rhythmically against the back of my throat as he hissed through clenched teeth.

After a beat, I slowly withdrew, sliding my lips back along the length, my tongue tracing a line up his rock-solid shaft and swirling around the crown. I repeated the action, once, twice, inviting him in deeper, sucking and tasting.

Ethan’s head fell back against the head rest, his eyes screwed closed as he tried to contain the building pressure threatening to explode. Reaching up with my other hand, I cupped his balls, smiling as a harsh primal sound grated from his throat. Unable to suppress his need any longer, his hands shifted to the back of my head and began to push me down onto him, his hips thrusting forward as he rammed into my mouth over and over, gasping and grunting in untamed rapture.

Sheathing my teeth, I sucked him hard and fast, one hand rolling his balls, the other fisting him into my mouth. Suddenly his body went rigid, his hard muscles trembling and twitching, and then the hot silky fluid of his climax hit the back of my throat. I swallowed instantly as his cock jerked and pulsed, emptying inside me. My hand flowed over his length as I eased him down, and when I knew I’d taken every bit of him, I withdrew, smoothing my tongue over the head of his penis like a Popsicle to ensure I devoured every last drop.

The energy of his orgasm combined with his fury had affected me. My heart beat against my chest frantically, my nipples taut and aching, and my panties sodden with my own arousal as my sex pumped and pounded with the need for release. For a second, I had to fight the urge to reach down between my legs to rub glorious circles around my tingling clit. I knew that Ethan had no plans to touch me; he was still mad, I could feel it, and therefore my release wasn’t likely to come anytime soon. The thought made me whimper.

Blazing eyes glared down at me when I finally lifted my chin to assess his mood. His lips, though still glowing with arousal, were a tight, straight line of impassivity. Saying nothing, he took a steadying breath and shifted to right himself, tucking himself away and redoing his zipper. He was sated, I could tell from the way his eyes blinked lazily, but his unwavering silence warned me that the storm wasn’t yet over.

Taking my hand, he guided me to the seat just as the vehicle drew smoothly into the reserved parking area of our building. Ethan climbed out the second the engine switched of, motioning for me to slide along the seat after him. Gripping my hand tightly, he nodded briefly to Jackson and pulled me along to the elevator. We boarded, and as the door slid closed, he swiped his keycard over the sensor, ensuring no further stops, and therefore no interruptions before reaching the penthouse.

In a second, he turned on me, pushing me up against the smoky mirrored glass of the elevator. His hard body crushed up against me as his lips slammed violently into mine, his tongue pushing inside to invade my mouth. My hands fisted into his hair, gripping hard and pulling him to me, my body desperate for his touch and the satisfaction only he could bring. Seeming to sense my frenzied need, he pulled away and spun me around to face the mirror, forcing my hands against the glass, my feet apart as he grappled with my dress, yanking it up around my waist.

My breath came in short, sharp gasps, frosting a patch on the glass in front of me, and as I stared through the mist to find his reflection, my gaze discovered eyes filled with inexorable lust. I was vaguely aware of the elevator door opening into our apartment foyer, the sound of a zipper being pulled, and my pulse pounding in delectable congruence with my throbbing sex.

Gripping my hips, he pulled me back toward him and yanked my panties to the side, his finger dipping into the slick moisture beneath to skim over my clit. I cried out at the thrill of his touch, my muscles clenching as I pushed back impatiently against his hand, in search of more.

A sharp, stinging slap suddenly connected with my backside, and I cried out again, but this time in utter stunned astonishment. The striking sound reverberated around the small space as I stared at Ethan’s reflection in horror.

“Did… did you just… spank me?” My voice was small and hoarse.

He nodded slowly, cautiously, his eyes wide with equal amounts of uncertainty and shock at what he’d just done.

My ass cheek began to vibrate with a hot buzzing sensation, the tremor shifting to unfurl—alarmingly but deliciously—in the saturated depths of my sex. “Oh, shit… that was… so fucking hot.”

Ethan’s eyes grew wider, his jaw dropping open in absolute staggered amazement at my reaction. Rising up on my tiptoes, I arched my back, tilting my ass up in silent invitation, and pushing back in search of desperately needed contact.

His lip curled in lascivious delight, his gaze darkening as he guided his cock toward my entrance, at the same time delivering a second mind-boggling blow to my ass. He plunged inside me, the blend of beautiful, stinging pain and sudden overwhelming fullness sending me hurtling toward an earth-shattering climax. Withdrawing to the tip, he sunk back inside me, this time with commanding determination, his fingers gripping my hips as he repeated the action again and again, each replenishing thrust driving deeper and harder.

The third slap connected, and the spiking exhilaration spread like a fire, searing my every nerve until the sensation, combined with the frenzied friction, sent me spiraling into orbit. I came apart around him, his name bursting unintelligibly from my lips and my muscles clenching with the pulsing, shuddering thrill of my orgasm. He slammed into me again and again, and when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he cried out, mercifully reaching his release. The heated sensation of him flooding my sex as he emptied inside me was almost as gratifying as my own release, and the second I knew his ecstasy was complete, my knees buckled beneath me.

Ethan’s arms flew around my waist, instantly relieving me of my weight. “Steady, baby.” He withdrew, tugging my dress down and hauling me into his arms in one smooth movement.

Flinging my arms around his neck, I nestled into his shoulder, the warm gentle sensation of his lips on my forehead, tugging my mouth into a satisfied smile. He was back, and I was forgiven—again.

Chapter Five

Grimacing, I pushed my glass of grapefruit juice across the table away from me; the smell alone was making me feel queasy.

“Angel, drink your juice,” Ethan instructed without looking up from the document he was perusing.

This time, I screwed my face up against the brightness of the room and slouched onto the table, laying my cheek against my forearm, eyes closed. “It’s too tart.”

“You like it tart,” he mumbled.

“Too much pulp then.”

Looking up, he placed the document aside. “It’s the same as you always have.” He paused, reaching out to brush the hair from my eyes. “You’re very grumpy this morning. Am I to assume it’s because you have a hangover?”

“A little one,” I lied. My head was pounding. “I didn’t even have that much to drink,” I lied again.

He raised a dubious brow. “Baby, I know you have an insatiable appetite for sex, but forcing me to fuck your sassy mouth in the car and then inciting me to spank your tight little ass was definitely alcohol fuelled.”

A pleasant thud landed heavily in my sex, my lips curling coyly at the memory of last night’s wild activities. I felt naughty. Shifting, I wriggled in my chair, my lip scraping across my teeth as if I were still bathing in the afterglow of my mind-numbing climax and sensational spanking. I was shocked at myself. I’d never envisioned actually enjoying something so brutal.

Glancing up, I realized my thoughts hadn’t gone unheard. Dark pools of blue gazed at me through hooded lids, as if reading every word that flittered through my wanton mind. I felt like I’d been caught with my hand in my panties and a soft glowing flush spread across my cheeks. Ethan’s eyes narrowed, his eyes flicking to the rock-hard buttons of my nipples as they strained against the luxurious fabric of his shirt—the one he’d worn yesterday.

“You truly are a dirty, dirty girl, Angelica.”

“It’s all because of you,” I whispered shyly, looking up through my long lashes.

“Come here,” he instructed, pushing his chair away from the table.

Obeying willingly, I stood to move across to him, taking his hand as he pulled me onto his lap to face him. He shifted me back so my ass rested on his lower thighs, my legs straddling him, and slowly ran his hands up my thighs to the hem of the shirt. Lifting the edge slightly, he dipped his chin, as if taking a sly peek at what I was wearing underneath.