Bound To Him: Three Dates with a Billionaire by Emma Lyn Wild

foot rails.
    Climbing on to the bed, Troy resumed his previous position, kneeling between my legs. Gently this time, he inserted a finger inside me. “Nice and wet, still,” he murmured. “Tonight we’re riding to the finish.”
    “Yes, yes please.”
    “Thank me when we’re done,” he said, and brought his cock to me. When he pushed, the head slid inside as if I’d been made for him. The thought went through my mind; I’m fucking a movie star! and then was gone, replaced by the knowledge that this was Troy.
    “You saw me in the movies just then, didn’t you?” he said, his voice shaky.
    “How did you know?”
    “I’ve seen that look before. Forget it. It’s just a job. There’s just you and me in this room. That’s all that matters.”
    “Yes.” The chains rattled as I instinctively lifted my arms to touch him. The instinct was real and came from the heart. “I want to hold you.”
    “You can’t,” he said roughly, and pushed in the rest of the way.
    I cried out, but my voice was laced with deep, masculine tones and I realized we’d both made a sound. Then he was inside me.
    I could move a little and I did, pushing up to meet him when he started to fuck me with deep, penetrating strokes. He kept the rhythm steady and regular, watching my face as he did so. This beautiful man wanted me, he was doing this to me .
    I still found it hard to believe.
    But I had to believe it because he was sliding in and out, bringing me higher to heaven with each thrust. The bed bounced beneath us, conforming to my curves but giving me enough support to bear back, to meet him stroke for stroke. When I closed my eyes he touched the side of my face, grazing his fingers along my cheek. “No, open them. Keep them open. I want to see you. I want you to see me.”
    I saw him. Everything I wanted was here, in Troy Cooper.
    He increased his thrusts in power and depth, slamming into me. The aroma of lovemaking surrounded us, enveloped us in sensuous longing. Heat suffused me, rippling along my spine and around every part of my bodies, to my fingertips and my toes, to the very top of my head. My scalp prickled and I called to him.
    I’d never seen such intense blue as lay in his eyes now, such depth and richness of color. I squirmed against him, rubbing my nipples against his chest.
    “You feel it, don’t you?” he said. Sweat gleamed on the powerful muscles of his shoulders.
    “Yes.” I felt something, that was for sure. Him.
    “You’re more aware of your body. Go inside yourself and examine it. Your nipples, your sex and everything else. It feels good.”
    “Yes!” I howled.
    “Come, then,” he said through gritted teeth.
    As if obeying him, everything inside me exploded. It burst, flowing over me in hot streams of arousal. I yelled, short, staccato shrieks, thrashing my head from side to side.
    He grunted, and the first spurt of his arousal made his cock throb as he emptied himself into me. He slumped on top of me, his breath heavy in my ear.
    No sound penetrated this luxury apartment except the ones we made. He was so heavy I had difficulty breathing, but I didn’t want him to leave. I would have happily lain here all night. But he lifted himself on his hands, and withdrew carefully, before heading for the bathroom. A moment later the toilet flushed, and then the water in the sink. Then he returned. “I thought you’d have got out by now,” he said, grinning.
    “I can’t lift a finger,” I told him.
    Smiling, unashamedly and beautifully naked, he came over to where I lay and pressed the black buttons on each set of cuffs. They sprang open immediately. He gathered them up and dropped them in the black box, after wiping them on a towel. “They’re yours,” he said. “Nobody else will ever use them.”
    That sounded like a promise, but I didn’t know what he meant by that. He kissed me, but when I would have touched him, he moved away. “Recover. I’ll shower and go downstairs for our supper. Are you