Bound to Be Mine (South Jersey Bound Series) by Tess Lamont

deserve her.
    He swallowed, focusing on the small band of leather on the floor. She wanted this. She needed this. Did he want her to seek another dominant?
    Hell no.
    All he needed to do was slip one end into the other and clip the shiny silver buckle closed. All he needed to do was give in to his desire.
    “You kept your collar.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me what your collar means to you.”
    Her shoulders trembled. “My collar means I belong to you. I am yours any way, any time, any place.”
    Her voice, repeating the answers to questions he’d asked on the very first night they’d met, wrapped him in awe. He folded his hands behind his back and circled.
    “You’re slouching, pet,” he said.
    Immediately, she pulled her shoulders straight and her tits arched.
    His throat dried. There was one rule he needed to break. “Look at me, pet.”
    She raised her eyes—full but steady, she regarded him as if he were shining with Mercury’s brilliance.
    “Knowing everything, you are, again, offering me your submission in trust?”
    “Yes.” She closed her eyes, and wetness seeped from between her lashes.
    He ran his fingers along her collars soft edge, heart-in-throat. Hers was a trust he did not deserve.
    …but he would.
    “Two hearts made one.” He dipped his lips to her ear as he lifted her hair. “You belong to me and I will never break your trust again.”
    She exhaled, long and shivering.
    He buckled her collar around her neck, sealing both their fates. A sense of power and right surged through his blood.
    He claimed her lips, this time in supple sweetness. She bent back her head, raising herself to her toes. He took all she gave and more, looting her mouth’s silken honey and demanding she quench his thirst.
    She had said the club left her numb. Tonight he was going to make certain she was anything but…
    He lifted his head, breath shallow and quick.
    “Mine,” he whispered, bending her back and lowering over her gorgeous breasts.
    Slowly, he massaged a pink and pebbly nipple between his lips and then nipped the bud between his teeth. He savored her labored breath as he flicked the tight, extended nub with his tongue.
    As the air grew thick with her musk, he stood. Leaning close, he whispered, “Undress me.”
    His abs flexed as she touched his stomach. She slid both hands up to his neck, before opening the first button.
    Greedy little miss . He considered a reprimand, but no. He knew she needed to feel him under her fingers as much as he craved her touch. He could not blame her for her slip.
    He held his arms wide while she pulled off his shirt.
    Cool air scattered chills across his chest, though his skin burned wherever she had touched. He noticed every slight shift of her body—even her brief hesitation before touching his buckle.
    When she’d hesitated yesterday, he thought she’d been feeling shame. Today, he knew different.
    When she finally peeled every last article of clothing from his body, she took a step back and resumed her position of standing submission.
    He caressed her throat just above her collar’s ridge. He placed a knuckle under her chin and forced her head up. Properly, she avoided his eyes as he forced her face to gaze toward the ceiling.
    “I noticed,” he said. “You want this?”
    A little shiver went through her body. “Yes.”
    He retrieved the cuffs. As he fastened them to her wrists, her delicate hands shook, sending a surge of heady elation through his body. He wanted to see her stretched full out and helpless since they had first started this journey, but she’d said she could not get past her fear.
    What a gift to offer herself in a way she never had before. They would no longer be pantomiming games they’d already played. They’d be on whole new ground.
    He raised her arms and clipped the chain onto the beam. She stood on the very tips of her toes, a vision of exposed and tender beauty.
    “Breathe, pet,” he ordered.
    Her breath slowed as he prowled. Her