Bound (Mastered 1)

“Pants.”

He pushed the tan-and-brown-flecked linen trousers down his legs and draped them over the back of the chair.

A pair of light tan boxer briefs was the last barrier. She didn’t even have to say off; he did it automatically.

What an absolute feast this man’s body was. Hard, sinewy muscles covered with tawny skin. He wasn’t bulky, which didn’t mean he wasn’t completely ripped. His pectorals? Incredible. His six-pack abs were completely lickable. As was his cock, jutting up from a closely trimmed thatch of black hair. She motioned for him to turn around.

Ronin raised both eyebrows but followed her instructions.

The rear side was just as yummy. Powerful shoulders and defined back musculature that tapered into slim hips. Oh. And then there was that perfectly round butt. The hair on his thighs and calves was much lighter than on his head—not that he had an abundance of it on his legs.

Her heart thundered as she approached him. She placed a kiss between his shoulder blades and snaked her arms around his chest. Amery wanted to wax poetic about his physique, but that sort of fawning seemed to put him on edge, so she said, “On the bed and get comfy because I intend to take my time.”

“You are going to milk this for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

Amery slid her hands down, cupping his balls with one hand and squeezing his shaft with the other. “I’ll be milking something all right.”

He hissed in a breath.

“On the bed.” She lightly slapped his ass.

“Baby, whatever you do to me I’ll do right back to you, understand?”

“Nope.”

She thought maybe he’d crawl across her bed with his animal grace and give her the molten look that made her pu**y weep with want. But Ronin sat on the bed, scooted into the middle, and stretched out as if waiting for a medical exam.

That stung a little. Okay, more than a little. Wasn’t he looking forward to this?

Ignore his attitude.

No, call him on it.

“How about if we just skip this? You can put your clothes on and go home.”

Ronin jackknifed. “What are you talking about?”

“You could act somewhat enthusiastic at the idea of me touching you. Right now you’re acting like I’m about to give you a prostate exam.” She turned away, intending to leave the bedroom.

Before she made it two steps, Ronin was on her. Banding his arms over her chest, immobilizing her completely. “I’m very enthusiastic, Amery. It’s just I’m used to being in control and I don’t know how to act if I’m not.” He kissed the side of her neck. “So the fact that I’m willing to give up that control to you? Says a lot, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” She turned and twined her arms around him, plastering her lips to his. Kissing him as though she wanted to swallow him whole. As she controlled the kiss—only because he let her—she herded him back toward the bed.

Ronin lowered them to the mattress, ending up flat on his back with her on top.

Amery kissed him for a good long while. The man was such a good kisser that kissing him was an erotic experience in itself. She gradually slowed the kisses from deep to soft. Fleeting. Flirty. “You have the most sensual mouth,” she murmured against his lips.

Then she pushed his arms out to the side and began kissing his throat.

“Can I have my hand in your hair?”

“As long as you don’t use it to direct me.”

“I won’t.” He paused and added, “This time.”

Ignoring his warning, she nuzzled his neck and her mouth moved along the top of his shoulder. He was so strong here. The muscles had hardly any give. Her tongue traced the ridge of his collarbone. When she hit a bump, she stopped and eased back to look at the scar. “What happened?”

“You’ll find a lot of marks and bumps like that. Martial arts training leaves its mark. My fighting years were hell on my body too.”

Amery looked up at him. “Is that why you didn’t want me to—”

“Inspect every inch of my naked body? Partially.” He kept smoothing her hair with his hand.

“Partially?”

“The other reason is I don’t like to be out of control, and your touch does that to me.”

She leaned in to softly kiss him. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

His scars didn’t matter. Didn’t change anything except for the fact that she knew a couple of them had to have hurt. She kissed each one and moved on, losing herself in touching this strong man so intimately.

His lower abdomen trembled beneath her stroking fingers. His ni**les—probably the most perfect set of male ni**les she’d ever seen—were a dark brown and flat. Until she licked them. Kissed them. Sucked on them. Bit them. Ronin’s whole body quaked and he hissed in a breath with every flick of her tongue.

So . . . sensitive ni**les. Check.

Amery mapped the muscles in his arms with her fingertips and followed that same path with her tongue. As much as she drooled over his biceps and triceps, his forearms captured her attention. She’d never seen forearms muscled like that. She ran her tongue up the deep groove, pausing when she reached the crease in his elbow. And on the inside of each of his forearms were the only tattoos on his body.

She outlined the dark Japanese symbols on his left forearm with her thumb. “Does this have special meaning for you?”

“It means remember the tenets of jujitsu and embody them every day.”