Bound by Her Destiny Read online

  “Will Gray be in the bar?” he asks, his voice tight.

  “No,” I answer, sadness invading. “He had to be somewhere else tonight.”

  Colton’s shoulders relax, slightly, then he turns, cups my head and gives me what I want.

  At first his lips on mine are tight, tentative, and his body feels tense, but then he leans forward to deepen our kiss, and I’m swept away.

  Colton kisses me with such urgency and ferocity, I can feel it in my toes, my scalp, my heart—not to mention my sex.

  Colton’s kissed me with passion before, but never like this, and I want his hands to move from my head to my body. I want his fingers to touch me everywhere—to caress every inch of my skin and then push inside me. I’d be turned on, even without the earlier feeding, and I want so much from Colton right now—I want it all—but I know what not to expect from Colton.

  Still I can’t be disappointed by this kiss. This kiss itself is so unexpected, almost like it’s someone else’s lips—his kiss stronger, harder and more demanding than anything Colton and I have shared before. His tongue joins in to stroke against mine, probing and diving, and then it turns rigid, forcefully thrusting against mine rather than the soft stroking and licking from every other one of Colton’s kisses.

  My legs press together and an orgasm rushes through me. An orgasm just from kissing, from imagining his rigid tongue in other places, and it takes me by surprise as I rock on the seat and moan into his mouth, fully trapped as he holds my head in a near death grip.

  He pulls away sharply, still cradling my head.

  The look in his eyes—I barely recognize him. But before I can even guess what emotion I’m seeing, he turns away and moves his hands back to the steering wheel.

  “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight?” Fighting to catch my breath, I reach for him. “Kiss me again.”

  He leans over and lays a quick peck on my forehead.

  “That’s not what I had in mind.” I rise, shifting toward him, but he shakes his head.

  “I really have to go.”

  “Okay.” I take off my seatbelt and open my car door.

  I look back, thinking he’ll give in to temptation, but he doesn’t. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel and his gaze is so focused out the windshield that I check to make sure there’s not someone there.

  “See you tomorrow?” I ask after I’m out of the car and leaning back in.

  “Definitely.” He turns toward me, and I’m reassured by his smile—all warmth and desire. Whatever is going on with Colton right now, it’s not what I most fear.

  At least I hope it’s not. I close the car door and he waits, watching me until I enter O’Malley’s.

  Rock waves from behind the bar, and the smile on his face warms every part of me that’s not still overheated from the kiss—not to mention the feeding.

  He says something to Kev, and the other man presses back against the liquor shelves to let Rock pass, and my big man comes out to greet me.

  He lifts me into his arms and kisses me gently.

  “Where’s Gray?” he asks. “On the way in?”

  I shake my head. “I need to tell you what happened tonight. It’s a lot.”

  Rock gestures for Chelle to bring us some drinks and we slide, side-by-side, into the booth at the back.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  I take his hand. “Has Pike been in?”

  Rock shakes his head. “You know he doesn’t ever come in here unless it’s empty.”

  I nod, worrying about Pike—which is probably silly, because if anyone on the planet can look after himself it’s Pike. But that’s only the physical part and I know it’s been decades, at least, since Pike has had anyone looking out for him.

  Remembering the kind of safety I felt earlier in Colton’s arms, that I feel now with Rock, I wonder if Pike has ever felt safety like that, if he ever will.

  Chelle comes over with our drinks, and as soon as she leaves, I tell Rock what happened—how Zora is dead, how Gray is in jail, and how Colton nearly killed me.

  “Acushla.” He puts his hand over my heart. “Are you in pain?”

  I shake my head. “Not anymore.”

  “Where’s the blood? Did you go home to change?”

  “This is Astrid’s.” I tug on the silk blouse’s fabric. “You didn’t notice that it’s about three sizes too big, especially in the chest area?”

  “Women’s fashion isn’t my area of expertise.” Rock smiles. “Remember the clothes I got you that first night?”

  I laugh at the memory of that plain grey dress, and it feels so good to laugh after everything that’s happened in the past few hours. Rock’s hand stays on my chest, and I undo some buttons and slide it under my blouse as I kiss him.

  His hand is so large he can touch both breasts at once, and if we weren’t in public I’d be undoing his fly right now. His body’s so big, leaving no room for me to climb on his lap while we’re in this booth, but maybe if he turned and I lay back…

  “Ahem,” a voice interrupts my erotic plotting. “I know the owner of this establishment, and I don’t think he allows such explicit public displays of affection.”

  I look up to see Malcolm slide into the booth opposite us, a smirk on his face.

  Rock takes his hand out of my shirt. “Hey, Malcolm.”

  “I believe that blouse belongs to my wife,” he says. “I hope your big mitts didn’t cause any damage.” He chuckles under his breath.

  “What’s going on?” I lean toward Malcolm. “Is Gray coming home?”

  Malcolm shakes his head. “Sorry. They’ll be holding him at least until tomorrow evening. Quite possibly longer.”

  “Why?” I strike the table. “Zora was a serial killer. Making the city dangerous for all vampires.” I lower my voice as Rock looks around, sizing up the probabilities that anyone heard my outburst.

  “He still committed murder,” Malcolm responds, “whether or not she deserved it. It wasn’t up to Gray to be judge, jury and executioner.”

  I tighten my lips. Human cops act that way every day when the one being executed is a vampire.

  “But Astrid knows what Zora did,” I argue. “And I’ll make a statement saying it was self-defense. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Malcolm pats my hand that’s now stretched across the table toward him. “Don’t panic. Not yet. FJS security can’t show any favoritism, just because Astrid and I are friends with Gray. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Then why shouldn’t I panic? This seems like a time for panic.” I knew my feelings for Gray were strong, but his possible incarceration has crystalized my emotions, compressed my love for him into diamonds that might shred my heart if he isn’t freed.

  “No guarantees,” Malcolm says, “but I wouldn’t worry about Gray. He’s got powerful friends.”

  “I thought you said Astrid couldn’t show favoritism?”

  “Not her. Astrid doesn’t have an ounce of power compared to the vampires I’m talking about.”

  “Who are these friends?” I’ve always known Gray’s been hiding things from me. Was this it? His powerful connections?

  “You’d better talk to Gray about that,” Malcolm says.

  “When? Tomorrow night when he’s released?”

  Malcolm shrugs. “If he’s not released, then you can petition FJS for visitation.”

  “Petition?”

  “It’s not as complicated as it sounds.” Malcolm smiles. “If he’s not released, I’m almost certain you’ll be able to see him tomorrow night. In fact, Astrid wants you to come in as soon as the sun sets.”

  I lean back in the booth, and Rock drapes his arm over my shoulders. “Will you tell me about Gray’s mysterious friends?” I ask Rock.

  “It’s a mystery to me too.” He strokes my arm and it’s comforting and exciting all at once, reminding me of what that big hand was doing not long ago under my shirt and prodding the unsatisfied arousal I’ve felt since my feeding.

>   “Can Kev close up tonight?” I ask Rock.

  “Sure,” he says. “Let me double check, and I’ll get you home. You must be exhausted.”

  I nod and smile, but sleeping is not what I have in mind. My libido is still revved up from my feeding and Colton’s kiss, and besides that, sex could be the distraction I need to take my mind off of Gray, all alone and a prisoner—my worst nightmare.

  Chapter 4

  Selina

  Rock brings me to an intense orgasm for the fifth time since we got home. Kneeling between my spread legs, he raises his fingers, soaked with my juices, and licks them like they’re covered in honey.

  I’m still pulsing inside from the aftershocks, and he drops to his back on the mattress. Seizing my opportunity, I climb on top and kiss him. Rock’s lips and tongue taste of me, and I want more than anything to make him feel as good as I do. But every time I try to get close to his cock, to make it about him, he flips the tables on me.

  I get an idea. The other day I stashed some rope from Gray’s bedroom under the mattress. At the time, it was on a crazy whim, thinking that some day I might ask Gray to tie me up while both he and Rock pleasured me at once, but I’ve thought of a better use for the ropes.

  The gratification Rock gave me tonight overwhelmed me, relieved my tension and temporarily pushed down my worries about Gray, and I want to return Rock’s favor.

  Rock’s name not only suits him physically, it suits him emotionally too. He’s so stoic, holding so much back. When we’re in bed, Rock only thinks about me, and it’s time for him to let go and experience some unbridled pleasure for himself.

  I rise to sit across Rock, loving how his sweat-soaked skin and chest hairs feel under my stimulated dampness. “Do you trust me?” I ask him.

  He tips his head to the side. “Trust you with what?”

  “With everything. Because if you love me—”

  “I love you. Always. And of course I trust you.” He reaches up to pull me down into another deep kiss.

  Not letting myself get distracted, I slide off his body, reach under the mattress and find what I was looking for.

  “Close your eyes,” I tell him.

  “What are you doing?” He looks at me with amusement.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” I slap his chest lightly, then pinch his nipple.

  “Ow.”

  “Come on, that didn’t hurt.”

  I glance down confirming that, if anything, my little nipple pinch served to increase his arousal, bulging against his shorts. Rock gives a whole new meaning to hung like a horse. His thickness stretches across his lower torso, and the tightly tied waistband of his shorts barely keeps the head from bursting free.

  “Okay,” he says, his voice deep and delicious. “But why do I need to close my eyes?”

  “Trust me.”

  Grinning, he closes them.

  Moving with my newfound power and speed, I lash each of his wrists to the headboard posts.

  “Hey.” He opens his eyes and tugs at the constraints. “Acushla. You know—”

  “Yes, I do know.” I kiss him again, and then move down to bind his ankles to the footboard posts. Spreadeagled, he fills the entire California King mattress.

  I know he thinks that we won’t fit together, but after Gray used that huge dildo on me, I’m even more sure that Rock’s wrong, but I can’t keep pressuring him about it.

  If anything he’s just growing more stubborn. Instead, I’ll help him let loose, I’ll drive him wild with pleasure, and if I’m right, it will make him want to go the final mile as badly as I want him to.

  I doubt that will happen tonight, but in time. We’ll keep working toward the finish line.

  Finding his discarded T-shirt on the edge of the bed, I use it to make him a blindfold.

  “Don’t do that,” he says as I start to tie it. “I want to see you.”

  “Taking away your sight will heighten your other senses,” I argue.

  “Seeing you heightens all my senses.”

  Smiling, I discard the blindfold idea and kiss him. I will never tire of kissing my Rock. His lips are firm but he uses the gentlest, cleverest touch that makes my body quiver with each nibble and bite. And as our lips and tongues converse, his huge shape is like the embodiment of living rock beneath mine. Strong and hard and massive, and yet it’s warm and alive.

  The only thing I can imagine that would make kissing Rock more perfect would be if I could reach down to his cock. But he’s too tall, his package too far away from his lips.

  Not that I’m complaining.

  Moving my mouth away from his, I transfer my kisses to his neck, then his chest, taking my time to explore—with my lips and tongue and fingers—every inch of his skin, tracing every ridge and mound of muscle. I love how he responds beneath me, still restrained, but starting to let himself go.

  Taking his nipple between my lips, I’m rewarded with a moan, then realize I’m low enough now that I can rest my inner thigh on his erection.

  That action yields a deeper moan, and his muscles tense underneath my body. I rub my breasts over his chest hairs as my leg continues to stroke carefully over his erection, and his body continues to heat under mine, to sweat and flush as I play.

  Giving him pleasure gives me as much satisfaction as his fingers and tongue gave me earlier. Not pure physical pleasure, not biological reactions exactly, but intense emotional gratification that makes me wild with longing, overcome with joy and the desire to make every action in my life going forward something that will make Rock happy.

  I continue to shift lower on his body, careful not to put too much pressure directly on his cock. Even though he’s bound to the bed, he’s like a wild animal that will bolt if I make sudden moves. So I don’t. I keep things slow and gentle, careful but erotic.

  My breathing continues to accelerate along with his, and I have to keep reminding myself to be cautious. My belly is directly over his hardness now, and I brace one knee on the mattress between his legs so that I don’t put too much pressure while I bring him to a place where he’s so turned on he won’t object if I release the Kraken. I grin at that thought.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper, needing to know, but dreading the answer, in case he’s not.

  He groans and nods. “All good.”

  I slide over him and caress his chest with my fingers and kisses, then I let one hand slide lower on his abs to trace along his waistband. Finding the end of the tie, I tug, but when the string doesn’t loosen, I realize he’s tied it in a knot.

  Distracting him with my tongue in his belly button, my fingers work on what turns out to be multiple knots, until finally I’m able to loosen his shorts.

  Gradually, inch-by-inch, I let my hands slip below his waistband, running them over his abs, then his hips, as my belly rubs back and forth over his erection.

  Sensing dampness on my stomach, I gasp, realizing the head of his penis has escaped captivity.

  The bed creaks as he tugs on his constraints. “Acushla…” His objection trails off to a moan as my fingers tease the ridges of muscle that run obliquely under his waistband, like an arrow to my prize.

  His cock is no longer fully hidden, not from my fingers or my eyes, and I slide the fabric lower on his right hip, while keeping my body gliding lightly over the partially-exposed hardness that lies against his left. He’s enormous—there is no denying that—but my insides throb at the thought of having that huge, hard hotness filling me to the limit.

  But this isn’t about me. Not tonight.

  “You still okay?” I ask.

  “Yes.” His breaths are so heavy now, so rapid.

  My hand ventures toward its target, circling to confound his nerves and keep his brain from realizing how far my fingers have traveled, helping him, I hope, to forget all his worries and hang ups, forget everything except his pleasure.

  And it’s not only his body parts that are becoming confused by my actions. I realize that it’s no longer my bel
ly sliding over his thick rod, but my bare sex.

  Released from his shorts, the head of his cock has shifted into the middle of his body, and the cotton fabric bunches lower and lower as I stroke against him, until we’re skin against skin, sex against sex, and I’m so close to coming I have to concentrate hard to prevent it. I can’t lose control. Not now. Not when everything is going according to plan, better than plan.

  I can’t do anything to ruin this.

  Rock is aroused beyond belief, and while I want to keep this all about him, his obvious satisfaction multiplies my need to levels beyond what I knew existed. My body is fluid, molten lava slipping and sliding over this literal rock of a man. My Rock. His rock.

  Reaching between my legs, my fingers find his balls, and he tenses beneath me.

  “No, ah, oh…” His voice is hoarse as he starts to object, but then it turns into a groan as he gives in to the pleasure that my fingers are meting out.

  His fists slam down on the mattress, over and over within their small range of motion, and his hips buck too, bouncing us both, making it hard for me to control the pressure I’m putting on his cock. Veins have popped on his neck and over his temples. His entire body is flushed, almost red, his muscles bulging.

  The power of this man, my love…

  We’ve already gone further than I hoped or planned at the start of this, but I want, I need, I am desperate to feel his power moving inside me.

  Maybe then he’d finally be free of his demons. If he’ll let me.

  “Rock.” My voice is strained and deep. “Do you think we can try? I’m so turned on and I can tell you are too.”

  I slide my fingers from his balls up to the base of his marvelous cock. It’s hot and pulsing under the skin. Vibrating. My fingers glide higher.

  “Acushla…”

  “Rock.” I slide my fingers up and down the bottom few inches, while my sex rubs over the head.

  “You make me feel…” His hands and feet both lift, and the wooden bed frame creaks as it strains. The bed is a metaphor for Rock, resisting and fighting what it really wants.

  “How, Rock?” I ask, then I gasp in pleasure as the head of his cock strikes my clit. “How do I make you feel?”