Bound (Mastered 1)

If she hadn’t gripped the handrail tightly, she would’ve lost her balance and tipped them both into the pool. Her knees were feeling as weak as her will. Her head buzzed and she didn’t know if this was from slamming her drink or from his powerful kiss.

When she shifted toward him, he made a low sound in the back of his throat and scooped her into his arms.

Okay. The buzzing in her brain and the zinging in her blood were definitely from this man.

Ronin sat, keeping her sideways across his lap, continuing to kiss her. A hot, wet kiss that deleted all thoughts beyond more. The hard ridge of his c**k digging into the outside of her thigh erased her doubts about his attraction to her.

Finally he broke their lip-lock and rested his forehead to hers. “You are beautiful. Get it out of your head I don’t want you because I haven’t pinned you to the ground and f**ked you until my knees are raw.”

“Ronin—”

“Listen to me.”

That tone immediately had her mouth snapping shut.

“What were you thinking when you were standing in the pool?” He eased back to look into her eyes. “Truth.”

“That for all my bold talk I’m not brave enough to strip my clothes off in front of you and dive naked into the deep end of the pool.”

“Why?” His eyes darkened. “Do I scare you?”

“I scare me. I’m not a casual nudist.”

“And yet . . .” His fingers traced the seam of her capris up the inside of her thigh. “You tore off your pants and threw them at me the first night we met. Seeing those purple bikini panties? Every professional thought vanished from my head.”

She buried her face in his neck. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that. I’ve never done anything like that before in my life. I was just so . . . mad at you.”

“I’ve been told I have that effect on people,” he said dryly. “But most people throw punches at me, not clothing.”

“Did you think I was crazy? Or just easy?”

“Neither. I thought you were fiery and sexy. You were real, Amery. Because of who I am . . . I receive deference, not defiance. Your response intrigued me.” His lips brushed her ear. “You intrigue me. The proper girl who balks at casual nudity, yet I sense your desire to be bold. You can see yourself as the woman who strips bare to skinny-dip because it makes you feel rebellious. You want that rebel to break free.”

How had he read her so easily?

“Am I wrong?”

“No. I want to be freed from the moral shackles that’ve weighed me down my entire life. Not in a Girls Gone Wild way, but like you said, to show myself that I can let go and not feel guilty about it.”

“I’ll help you to let go.”

Her belly flipped. “How?”

“You have to trust me to find out.”

But I don’t really know you.

That realization didn’t bother her as much as the thought of saying no to him. Amery inhaled a deep breath and said, “Okay.”

“Hang on.” Ronin stood and deposited her on the chair. He scooted the ottoman closer to her and sat on it. He claimed her mouth in a sensual kiss. While his tongue tangled and teased, he began to unbutton her blouse.

She lifted her hands to touch him.

He took her hands and peered into her face so deeply she swore his gaze had brushed her soul. He kissed the tips of her fingers. “I touch. You let me.”

“But how is sitting here doing nothing teaching me to be bold?”

“Bold is not only an action. Bold is an attitude. Bold is a state of mind.” Ronin rubbed her knuckles across his jaw. “Sometimes the boldest choice is to let go. It takes more courage to trust someone else to give you what you need than it does to just rely on getting it yourself.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

Ronin smiled. “Which is the perfect time for me to point out I don’t want you to think. I want you to feel.”

Amery had the oddest feeling of . . . surrender? Or was it power?

“I see it in your eyes, Amery. Let me show you how bold you can be.” He kissed her again, his mouth coaxing hers to respond.

And respond she did. She stopped worrying where her hands should be and concentrated on the placement of his hands. Of the dexterity in his fingers as the rough tips brushed her skin. She let his pace—sometimes fast, sometimes slow—roll over her. Feed her. Soothe her. Incite her.

Then his callused hands were sliding beneath her collar. He pushed the shirt off her shoulders and down her arms until the fabric caught in the bend in her elbows. Rather than tugging it free, he murmured, “Perfect,” and pressed an openmouthed kiss to the center of her chest. “Lean back and rest on your hands.”

In this wanton position, she couldn’t help arching her spine, offering him total access to whatever he wanted.

Ronin’s fingers danced over her. Following the edges of her collarbones, the cords in her neck. The curve of her shoulders. “Your skin tone is amazing. So pure.”

Not pure, her anti-goddess side chimed in, pasty white.

For once she told that voice to shut up.

He twisted the front clasp of her bra and the cups separated. Although her eyes were closed, she felt his greedy gaze on her br**sts as he slid her bra down to meet her shirt.

She tried to slide her palms out, but there wasn’t any give in her shirt and she couldn’t move.

Not a terrifying thought; an exhilarating one, the new goddess inside her purred.