Bound to Love by Emma Lyn Wild

fingers into his hair. I’d longed to do that, to tickle the short hairs at the base of his skull, to plunge with abandon into the thick mass above. It was silky, and I would muss it to death.
    With a choked moan, he lifted me and carried me to the bed. I was in my underwear, but he took my bra and panties off me with a few efficient movements, then he laid me on the crisp sheets. I watched him while he stripped, shedding his pants, underwear and socks fast. He was beautiful, my man, the man I loved. But not because of his looks, the gifts he was born with, that had led to his exploitation, but the inner man who glowed through, the remains of the sensitive child crying in the night, the strong man he had become. It was all part of him and I loved it all.
    He came down on me. I had expected him to ask me to go on all fours, or pause to find the handcuffs, but he did no such thing. I opened my legs and lifted my knees to allow him to settle between them and bring our sexes into alignment. He touched me, watching my face all the time, pushed a finger into me, and gathered my juices. Then he sat up, and spread what he’d collected over the head of his cock, mingling my juices with his precum, combining us. He swallowed, watching my face. “I will do my best to be worthy of you,” he said. “I love you, Cassie.”
    “I love you,” I echoed as he came down and pushed his shaft into me.
    The sensation was incredible, but I needed to make sure he was with me as well, so I kept my arms by my sides, pressed my palms against the bed.
    “Put your hands on my arms,” he said as he came down to me.
    “You’re sure?”
    “Completely. I couldn’t be more sure. I’ll watch you all the time, and then I’ll know it’s you. Touch me, Cassie.”
    How wonderful it felt to hold him. I gripped his biceps as he pushed into me. I’d never watched him like this when we made love before. It was addictive. I hugged his sides with my knees as he thrust deep into me, his lips full from our kisses, his eyes swimming in love. He set up a rhythm, deep and sure, and I arched my back to bring his shaft to the right place. His body rippled with leashed power as he thrust deep, then withdrew and drove in again. Steadily we worked together and he took me higher, while he watched me. When he kissed me he didn’t close his eyes, so I didn’t, either. My head went back when the ripples of my first orgasm began, flowing through me, a river of ecstasy. We were so close now, so deep in each other. “I love you,” I said, because I had to. I was lost in him, and nothing else mattered.
    Sensations flowed through me, and he touched every part of me, his body heavy with desire. I gripped his arms tighter and watched his face, the beads of sweat on his forehead, the warmth in his eyes, a summer day of heat and passion.
    I cried out when I came, unable to hold it back a moment longer, and he followed, spurting into me, his heat soaking me, splashing my inner walls until I could have cried from the beauty of it.
    Then he lay on me, and I laughed in sheer happiness.
    No way would I give this up. No way would I give this man up.
    His chest heaving, he withdrew from my body, even though I would have kept him there forever, and rolled on to his back. But he didn’t leave the bed, didn’t move away. Instead, he turned toward me and clasped my hands in his, kissing first one, then the other. I leaned over and we shared a long, luscious kiss of fulfillment.
    “Will you come with me?” he said.
    “Anywhere.” I meant it. I knew what I wanted now. “I’ll tell Steve I can’t take the job.” It would be a wrench, but if I had to choose between Troy and my job, then I would do it. “I have my degrees and Steve will give me a good reference. I can find another job somewhere.”
    He traced the cleft between my breasts with one finger. “That seems a shame. No, my love, I didn’t mean that. I meant life. Shit, I’m losing it. Too many words. I meant move in