Page 155 of Unbound

Most of them nod—Holden still watching me with a clear remorseful look on his face. And I know that he didn’t mean to hurt either of us, but I’ve spent three years watching him shamelessly flirt with her. I just need a minute.

“See you all tomorrow,” I say, tossing on my track pants and sweatshirt. For the first time, I leave without cleaning my pads or doing a single one of my postgame routines.

• • •

“Please—”

She’s panting, eyes glazed and looking at me adoringly. It’s a shot to my heart, as it always is with Paloma. But here, with her stretched out like an offering over my bed, arms tied together and held above her head—making her beautiful tits push forward even more—my gaze on her is almost worshipful.

“Bennett,” she cries, body jerking as those same wide brown eyes shut tight.

My hand slides across her cheek to her mouth, covering it briefly with my finger to quiet her. I’m not surprised by the way her body curves and arches into even my smallest touch—I’ve been playing with her for ten minutes already, and she’d been dripping since I tied her hands.

She was fucking made for me.

“Can you be quieter for me, love?”

She nods over and over.

“Good girl,” I say, dragging the word along her skin as I run my finger over her chin, down her neck, into the valley between her breasts. “You’re holding it in for me, aren’t you? Waiting for me to tell you to come?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “Please—”

“Shh,” I coo. “Tonight is going to be different. I’m going to make you come with my fingers, my mouth, my cock—” She moans so loud, I cover her mouth again. “And you can come as much as you want, without asking for permission, okay?”

Her nod is like a bobblehead, hair spilling from the tight ponytail it was in before. Unable to resist, I reach up and tug the elastic carefully, running my hands through the blond strands until they lay like water across my sheets.

“Do you know why?”

She doesn’t say anything, grinding into the air—so keyed up. So free beneath my hands, trusting me so thoroughly. It’s intoxicating.

“Paloma? Answer me, love. Do you know why I’m going to let you come as much as you want?”

She shakes her head, eyes tracking back to me.

“Because you deserve this. Because you are so good and strong and perfect. I want to make you feel good—to show you exactly how good you always are for me.”

The words are softer than anything else I’ve said. And her body stills, eyes welling slightly with tears, mouth tipping into a soft smile.

I’ll pour praise over her again and again for as long as I live, or as long as she lets me. Because this is how it makes her feel. And when she’s so vulnerable beneath my hands, tied up and splayed in her purest form, I want her to know that I will care for her, love her, worship her.

“Are you going to let me take care of you? The way I want to?”

“Yes,” she says. It’s almost a plea. “Bennett.”

Pulling her closer, I kneel on the floor between her spread thighs, tossing each one over the bulk of my shoulders, hand down my sweatpants as I lick at the seam of her pussy, pulling moans from Paloma’s mouth.

I take my time with her, pressing my words into her skin, using my fingers to keep her suspended in pleasure while I praise her. I’m finally able to say everything I want to her, no fear of scaring her away or waking up without her beside me. She’s mine.

“You’re so beautiful. So smart.

“I’ve dreamt about these thighs, entangled with mine.

“When I fantasize about you, you’re soft and warm in my embrace, letting me take care of you—just like this. Come again for me, P. I know you can.”

I give her my fingers, my tongue, even my thigh so she can grind into it—making her come over and over again.

Her face is flushed, eyes bright and waterlogged, shimmering with release and need and the aftereffects of my praise I’ve come to expect. But still, I don’t stop. I won’t, until she understands how desperately I love her.