Bound to Surrender (South Jersey Bound Series) Read Online Free

what you think makes me afraid.”
    He nipped at her earlobe as he waited for her to answer. She blinked. Her mind floundered for a sensible thought. Trapped by his thighs with his hot breath tickling her neck and his tongue suckling her earlobe, she couldn’t think at all.
    He released her hands. Warm friction from the carpet penetrated her blouse as he pulled her flat against the floor. He eased his full weight over her body.
    She took a deep and shuddering breath. This time she was sure the hard length pressing into her belly was his cock. He pulsed thick and ready with a size promising to be memorable. She moaned, spreading her legs.
    “If you cannot give an answer, Ms. Welch, you shouldn’t have raised your hand.”
    His dark rumble made her vibrate. Something must make him fear . She looked into his eyes.
    “Clearly, Mr. Walker,” she panted. “You are afraid of surrender.”
    He blinked as if she’d surprised him with her reply. A jolt of mischief shot through her stomach. She bent her knees and planted her feet. With every ounce of strength she possessed, she bucked her hips in a sideways arc, administering a trick she’d learned in self-defense class.
    His own weight threw him to her side and, before he could react, she straddled him and pinned his arms with her knees. She dangled her tits just above his lips.
    “You’re afraid of surrender,” she repeated, with a wicked, teasing smile.
    His laughter rumbled against her thighs. His eyes twinkled and he made no move to fight.
    “Perhaps you’ve found me out.”
    Why then, did she still feel like he was the one in control?
    “God you’re a hot little librarian.” He smiled, but spoke to her lips rather than her eyes. “Your semantics lack clarity, though. Am I afraid of your surrender, or mine?”
    He rocked his hips forward, pantomiming sex. Contact sent a quiver through her arms, weakening her hold.
    “Your surrender,” she said.
    With a quick twist of his arms he tripped her balance and lifted her off his body.
    “When I’m done―” He paused for a devilishly soft, breathy nibble on her neck. “―you won’t know or care about the difference.”
    Her back rubbed against the carpet as he crawled astride her thighs like a lion claiming prey. He lowered his lips, picking up their kiss exactly where he’d left off. The harder he ground, the more her greed blotted out thought. Feverish and giddy, she was glad to be pinned underneath him once again.
    “You said I didn’t look like a vanilla man, remember?”
    Their eyes met.
    “Yes,” she choked.
    “I should warn you...I’m not.”
    His words resonated deep in her stomach; her cunny muscles clenched. He thrust one hand underneath her crumpled skirt and ran his thumb over her crotch.
    “Your panties are damp, Ms Welch.”
    He yanked them down and left them tight around her thighs. He stuck a finger in her pussy. She mewed—an involuntary, plaintive noise.
    “Filthy little sound.” He grinned. “Make it again.”
    He stroked her clit, coaxing the illusive tendrils of orgasm to coalesce. She approached her release but he pulled away. She cried out in surprise and need.
    He laughed and went to work on her blouse’s buttons.
    “Not fair, I was almost—
    “I know you were almost ,” he interrupted. “You will come only when I want you to come. How I want you to come. Where I want you to come.” His eyes blazed with depravity and dominance. “We have all afternoon.”
    One by one, he freed each button, moving with languid confidence. The silk fell open. Though he still straddled her legs, he lifted her until she was seated upright. As he slid his calloused fingertips over her hot flesh, excited shivers skipped up her spine.
    His hands gave commands and she responded. He grazed her belly with his thumb. She shifted and he un-tucked her shirt. He ran his finger up her breasts’ outer curve. She opened her arms and he removed her blouse. He brushed his knuckle on her upper arm. She