Bound to Please(77)

“Rufus. Akron, Ohio. No siblings. Right side.”

She blinked. “Rufus? Seriously?”

His hand was on her hip, and his grip tightened. “Don’t laugh. It’s an old family name.”

“It’s… interesting.” She was trying so hard not to laugh her mouth hurt.

But it was him that chuckled, the sound reverberating from his chest and into hers. “I know,” he said. “That’s why you have to swear, right now, that you will never, ever, tell anyone that bit of information.”

She quirked a brow. “And if I don’t promise?”

He leaned down, his face looming over hers. He’d taken off his glasses, and now she could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes. “I’ll have to punish you, of course.”

His cock was already hard, pressing at her thigh. She wiggled until he was settled between her legs, just where she wanted him. She felt the metal of his piercings scraping her nipples.

The hot flesh of his erection felt heavenly against her pussy and she closed her eyes. “You feel so good, your skin on mine.”

“I want to feel you; I want to feel my cock in your body,” he said, kissing the crook of her neck, his warm breath making her shiver.

“I want that, too,” she whispered.

Her pussy was so wet, and he was so hot, hard. She moved just a fraction, just to feel him on her clit. One more tilt and he’d be inside her.

“Condoms,” she said. “Bedside drawer.”

He rolled off, leaving her panting. But then he was back, between her legs, and she imagined it was his own skin she felt, not polyurethane, as he slid the head of his cock from her clit to her entrance and back again. Teasing, sliding, he had her moaning within minutes. Then he entered her and she arched under him, his name on her lips.

He made love to her in a slow rhythm, caught her gaze with his. Now, there was no top or bottom, no dominance or submission, just Mark and Ruby, their uninhibited groans of pleasure mingling, the sounds of his body sliding into hers. There was the soft look in his eyes as he pulled out and slid back in, so slowly she couldn’t breathe. There was Ruby, unable to tear her gaze from his as she reached up to rake her fingernails across the small of his back, encouraging him deeper, deeper.

They came like that. Silent, sweaty, and still. And after, when he lay on top of her, his heart beating against her own, Ruby realized it wasn’t the D/s thing that had her freaked out, it was this. Raw, vanilla fucking. There were rules through submission, expectations. It had seemed so risky at the time, but nothing was as scary as this, as the feel of Mark’s damp breath under her ear, or the way she loved lazily tracing patterns on the slick skin of his back. He soothed her as no one ever had.

These moments were what she wanted. This was real.

And fleeting. Soon, he’d be gone, on tour, performing. Living in New York. She always knew he would go. She just hoped he would obey her wish and leave without saying good-bye.

When her doorbell rang on Friday night, she knew it was Mark. Earlier, he’d asked her to wait for him until he’d finished recording and she’d been anxiously waiting ever since. The next night was the Spring Fling, and so far they hadn’t discussed anything past that point.

Now, unsure, she answered the door with a smile plastered on her face.

He burst inside, and suddenly her apartment seemed to come alive from his energy. Yanking her to him, he kissed her, hard, and when he pulled back, his eyes were bright.

“We finished. The record will need some post-production of course, but we’re done! And this album kicks fucking ass.”

She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. But the fact was, she found it hard to be happy, not when they’d never discussed what would happen when he was done here.

“The guys are all celebrating, but I wanted to spend the night with you. Here.” He thrust a bag at her. “You’ll wear this tonight.”

Blinking, she pulled out yards of shimmery cobalt fabric. “Oh my God, Mark. Another present?” It was a wrap dress with a low neckline, and she recognized the designer as a name she’d seen only in Vogue magazine. “Mark! You’ve given me too much as it is. I can’t accept this.”

Casually, his glance dropped to the necklace at her throat. “You can. And you will.”

When he looked at her like that, like he owned her, her insides quivered. She got wet. She got off on it. And fuck it, at this point she couldn’t deny him anything. Or deny herself.

He stepped closer and kissed her, slowly. “Get dressed. I wanna go out.” He gave her a few more instructions before sending her off to get ready.