Bound To Me: A Possessive Cowboy Romance

"Maybe I don't mind as much as I thought I did."

His eyes flared at me and he reached for me. He winced as he pulled me in for a kiss. I kissed him back, running my hands over his strong chest and shoulders.

I sat up abruptly, feeling his arms go limp around me.

Daniel had passed out again.

He would be alright, though. The doctor had already come to check his eyes for a concussion. We were supposed to 'keep an eye on him' but that was all. Obviously, I had volunteered to do so.

I grabbed the melted ice pack and empty pitcher of water and headed back to the kitchen.

I was in the hallway when I felt him grab me from behind. He spun me around so fast I nearly lost my balance. He looked calm but his eyes were seriously. Deadly serious.

He tilted his head, staring at me with those warm golden eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"To get you some more ice."

He grabbed my wrist and started pulling me backwards.

"I don't need any damned ice."

"Daniel! You're injured. Be careful!"

"I'm fine."

I was giggling helplessly as he propelled me back into the room, slamming the door behind him. I watched as he locked the door then walked over to the window. He opened it, never taking his eyes off of me.

I reached out my hand to stop him as he held his hand outside and let go.

He'd dropped the damn key into the bushes.

"Daniel!"

He smiled at me. Something about his face reminded me of a shark's face. It was predatory. And determined. He started walking towards me. I was suddenly very, very nervous.

"You aren't leaving me again."

"Oh– okay."

"I'm keeping you."

"Daniel, you sound crazy!"

He kept backing me up until I was pressed against the wall. There was nowhere left to run. And I didn't really want to run anyway. I wanted to stay.

"I am crazy."

His smile widened as he straddled me, boxing me in with his arms and legs, running his hands over my body.

"And it's all your fault."

"My fault?"

He nodded slowly.

"You made me fall in love with you."

"Daniel..."

"No. You don't get to ignore me. I want to talk about the future."

He was touching me all over. Teasing me with all his skill. I could barely focus on what he was saying. All I heard was the word 'love.'

"Please, can't we have this talk another time?"

He shook his head, his hands working their magic on my curves. Just touching me though my clothes. I was speechless, just feeling his touch was driving me wild.

"You are in love with me, too. I know it."

I tried to look away, to avoid talking about this. But he wouldn't let me take the coward’s way out. He held my face in his hands.

"I'm going to make you say it."

I shuddered, knowing that he could break me down with his hands and mouth. He was smiling again. This time it was a smile of pure anticipation.

"And I'm not letting you out of this room until you admit it."

I watched as he unbuttoned my blouse. He kissed my chest next, thumbing my nipples through my lace bra. They stood up for him immediately, obedient as always to his touch. He pulled one of my nipples into his mouth and flicked his tongue against it, making me moan in pleasure. He pressed my legs apart, rubbing me through my riding pants. I moaned, feeling myself get instantly wet.

I was always ready for him. It was as if my body knew he was my match. Knew he was the one for me before I had been ready to admit it.

I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit it, even now.

He didn't do anything else for the longest time. Just rubbed me softly through my clothes. I wanted more pressure. I wanted him. I was already on the edge as he kissed my throat and breasts, suckling my hard nipples again and again.

"Anything you want to tell me?"

I moaned and he laughed, pulling my bra down to feast on my breasts. He kept the same maddeningly slow pace as he stroked me between my legs. I was rocking my hips against his hand but it was futile. He was going to keep me on the edge like this for hours. He was going to make me say it.

But I was terrified. Terrified of being hurt again. Terrified of making the wrong decision.

It was going to be a very, very long night.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Daniel

Two weeks later

Francesca stood in my bedroom in an ivory silk dress, looking like a statue. Her golden hair was loose, her tawny skin glowing, her deep blue eyes subtly lined with kohl, and her lips a dark red. She looked good enough to eat. In fact, I'd been trying to take her to bed and gobble her up. But she wanted to talk.