Bound and Determined Read Online Free Page B

betray her family or herself by sleeping with the enemy, so she’d never know.
    Sinead tried to chase thoughts of him from her mind. She kept her labia spread, then moved her other hand to cup her left breast and tease the nipple. The steaming water made her clit swell more and more.
    She heard his words repeat in her mind as he told her that when he went home, she’d be by his side.
    Ha.
    Sinead made her own decisions. Imigh sa diabhal ! The d evil take him.
    Determinedly, she summoned one of her favourite fantasies. She’d place her hands on her hips and face down a larger, taller man who refused to be intimidated by her. Why not? It was her fantasy and that meant the man of her creation wouldn’t care that her T-shirt told him to bugger off. He’d be unimpressed when she told him to take a walk in short, jerky motions.
    In her imaginings, she’d be abducted by this stranger and be made to surrender to his darkest desires, desires that matched her own. Sinead knew she was a strong, powerful woman, but the imagery was compelling and seductive. She yearned to have control yanked away, and yank it he would. And because she was helpless in his grasp, she could abdicate responsibility. Nothing but her pleasure would matter.
    This man would claim her. Toss her over his shoulder. He’d keep her captive with his artfully tied knots and cleverly devised bonds. He’d torment and tease. He’d see through her sarcasm to her vulnerabilities. He’d cherish her, but tolerate no nonsense. He’d be the strength to the softness he’d bring out in her.
    His tongue would caress her clit; he’d suck on it, lick it. He’d keep her pinned beneath him till she screamed her surrender, until she admitted he was not only her equal but her master…
    He’d demand her active participation. He’d hold her chin captive, much as Jack had at the pub. Her imaginary man would bluntly inform her he would not settle for anything less than her total commitment, emotionally and physically. He would not tolerate her simply saying the words and going through the motions.
    She’d blossom, become aware of her sexuality.
    And—
    And—
    Her fantasy began to unravel as Jack Quinn once again took centre stage. She no longer saw a nameless stranger, but a frightening enemy. Quinn had stormed into her life with his ridiculous ideas, commanding presence and unsettling words.
    Didn’t that beat all?
    She tried to shut out his image by pretending she’d never set eyes on him.
    With her jaw clenched, she fought desperately for a climax, squeezing her clitoris, pinching her nipples, gyrating her hips.
    And there was…nothing. Nothing at all. It was as if the building sensations simply vanished.
    But then she imagined the feel of Jack’s strong palm on her arse.
    She gave up the fight and allowed the new images to unfurl.
    Jack would hold her firmly, one hand pressed on the small of her back. He’d stroke her buttocks, and she’d become damp with need. Then, only then, would he deliver a sharp stinging slap to her rear.
    She’d beg and plead, she’d wriggle, she’d protest, but he’d be relentless.
    He’d torment her until she orgasmed.
    Like… Now .
    She shouted out as she climaxed. Her entire body trembled with the overwhelming power.
    Her hips continued to jerk as aftershocks assailed her.
    Finally she drank in several gulps of the mile-high oxygen-depleted air, trying to restore her breathing to normal.
      Bastard.
    Damn the man and sentence him to half a dozen centuries in purgatory, anyway. Couldn’t she even masturbate in peace? She for sure wouldn’t be lighting a single candle to save his unholy soul.
    Her lips curled around a very nasty curse and she yanked the faucet closed. If she ever got her hands on him…
    He was Satan incarnate, just like his pesky ancestors.
    The water droplets that had fallen from her hair chilled on her shoulders and she climbed back into the bathtub and sank in up to her chin, desperate to wash away thoughts