Bound Beneath His Pain (Dirty Little Secrets 1)

It’s not his ripped abs, sexy indents at his hips, or the way this guy screams masculinity that’s shocking me; I expected his body to be this hot. I drag my fingers over his muscular shoulders, following the design of the black and gray tattoos covering his wide shoulders, muscular arms, and firmly squared bare chest. “You hide these well.” I can’t even make everything out in the design; his tattoos look more like a giant piece of artwork all blended together, but I do see Greek mythology is an influence. There’s an angel on one shoulder and a warrior on the other.

Just as I’m getting lost in the meaning behind his tattoos, he tucks a finger under my chin, arching an eyebrow at me. “Let’s not focus so much on my body, shall we?” He gives me one very thoro

ugh once-over, grinning devilishly. “Not when I have this body in front of me.”

I tighten my hands against his shoulders watching him lean in and kiss my stomach. Oh, God…My legs begin trembling as he moves lower…and lower…I ache in places I never knew could ache before, when he places his face by my sex and inhales deeply. His eyes flutter, the side of his mouth slowly arching, as if my scent alone brings him pleasure. He drags his hands up my quivering thigh, until he’s squeezing my ass firmly. The low moan he gives does more for me than any foreplay ever has before. And when his head lowers, and I feel the long slow lick of his tongue across my clit, my head falls back, and a hiss slides through my teeth. I thread my fingers into his hair, holding him tight against me, urging him to take me where I want to go. He’s teasing me with light licks, leaving me hungry for more. He likes this. I can tell. He wants me to crave him.

When I begin to shake, his deep chuckle brushes warm air against my sensitive flesh and he listens to my desires, inserting a finger. My eyelids pinch shut and I get what I want, more of Micah. Warmth is spreading across me as he moves his finger too slowly, in and out, in a perfect rhythm.

I grip the strands of his hair tight, my mouth falling open with the pleasure, as another finger joins his first and fills me. Looking at him, I find his focus solely on my face. “God, don’t stop,” is all I can say.

It’s all so much. Micah’s so much. His touch is so much. His pleasure is so much.

I’m falling into him; losing myself in the rich power exuding from him. But then his eye contact is gone and his tongue slides over my sex in a way not to pleasure me, but to taste me, and I become undone.

My entire body shakes and trembles and his tongue begins to swirl in circles overtop my bundle of nerves. I’m gasping and moaning in appreciation, until he sucks the bud between his teeth, while pumping his fingers faster inside of me. Every nerve ending awakens and the choice is not mine when I come into orgasm. He’s stealing the pleasure right of my body, and I can only follow, crashing into wave after wave of mind-numbing sensation, until all I am is a quivering mess of satisfaction.

I’m not sure when I return to the present. I only know his lips on mine, gently bringing me back from where he sent me. His mouth begins to travel to places no one had ever cared about before. He’s claiming every inch of my flesh; my shoulder, my breasts and nipples, my hip, my stomach; his openmouthed kisses blaze fire across me, and he doesn’t stop kissing me until I’m fully aware again.

My fingers are aching to touch him when he picks me up in his arms. I want to draw his cock in between my lips. I want to taste him on my tongue like he tasted me. But his eye contact is firm as he lays me out on the bed, declaring that’s not my choice tonight.

He wants me.

And now he’ll take me.

He looks away when he moves to the nightstand, taking a condom from the drawer. I can’t stop watching him, while he’s opening his belt and then the buttons of his slacks. When he shoves his pants down and they fall at his ankles, I shamelessly stare at his thick cock with veins protruding on the sides.

God, he’s big.

I lick my lips, watching him rip the condom wrapper open then sheathe his erection, teasing me with the way his hand strokes over his hardened flesh. I scan his body, which is sculpted enough to make me feel feminine and protected, yet not enough to overwhelm me. My mouth becomes moist, and I swallow the increased saliva as I lift my eyes to his. My breath quickens; Micah is a lot of man to absorb.

He suddenly pauses at whatever he sees on my face. “Never be afraid of me.”

“I’m not scared,” I admit, breathlessly, closing my hands, stopping the tremble. “I’m nervous. I haven’t done this in a while.” And I’ve never been with a man like you, I leave unsaid between us.

His smile slowly builds. “Ah, love, the way I feel right now should make you a little nervous.” He returns to me, his stride is so Micah—confident, not in a hurry, determination oozing from him. A shift happens near my heart, a pang of sorts, when all that man crawls his way to me on the bed. The soft strands of his hair fall free of the gel, while he slides his warm, hard body over mine. “You’ve made me wait,” he adds, hovering above me, his voice a low rumble, “and that is never a good thing.” His lips seal with mine and he steals the kisses right out of my mouth. Heat is flooding my body as his hand is sliding over my hip bone, squeezing me there, before traveling down my thigh, where he drapes my leg across his hip.

I’m moaning against his mouth when he grinds his condom-covered cock between my thighs, perfectly connecting with my clit, drawing pleasure from my swollen, aroused bud. He feels like a dream come true. His touch is like a fantasy. I part my mouth to moan against the pleasure of being pinned by his body and he plunges his tongue in deep.

I can’t take anymore. I ache so much it hurts. I want him like a craving that’s soul deep. It’s all him. It’s not just the kiss, nor is it the feeling of his cock, it’s having him on top of me. It’s not enough. I need all of him. I’m wiggling against him and lifting my hips, begging him to enter me.

His low groan flutters in my belly as he leans away, staring at me with eyes so hot and wicked they could melt ice. “Goddamn it,” he growls, flipping me over onto my stomach. The hairs raise on my arms and nape when he gathers my wrists, pinning both hands above my head with one of his. He straddles my thighs, pushing my legs together. He squeezes both my ass cheeks before giving one a hard slap. I’m squealing from the confusing likable heat on my bottom when his condom-covered cock is at my slit and I gasp loudly as he enters me from behind in one swift stroke.

So big. So hard.

My hands ball into fists, as he pushes against my back, pinning me to the bed and stretching me completely for his pleasure. He shifts his hips slowly, allowing my slick heat to accept him before he unleashes all that power onto me. That’s when I realize my body no longer belongs to me.

It’s his to take what he wants.

And I want to give him it all, because he’s given to me, too.

I’m learning about a pleasure that’s foreign to me, screaming into the duvet. Every pound of his thrusts against me, each slide of his spectacular cock, has me arching up into him. I want to look at him—am desperate to, in fact—to see what he looks like when he takes me, but I can’t move. That’s when I know that pleasure isn’t mine to command, but mine to be given. I don’t take from Micah. He gives to me. My eyes roll back in my head, and I realize I like his aggressiveness.

It’s dominating.

It’s powerful.

It’s everything.