Page 129 of Secret Obsession
She’s there.
Here.
Fuck.
And she’s totally naked, reclining against the headboard. Her legs are crossed, but her breasts are on full display, with—holy shit. She’s got ties around her wrists and ankles, not connected to anything. Just waiting, loose, for me.
“What are you doing here?”
She stares at me. “Are you happy?”
I almost shake my head in disbelief—but I don’t want her thinking Idon’twant her here. I do. But I also want to know how she got here, and who drove, and if she wore her seat belt. And if they drove the speed limit. And—
“Miles,” she whispers.
I toss my phone. I’ve got maybe an hour, tops, before I need to get to the arena. That’s enough time to make my girl orgasm at least three times, I think.
“I’m ecstatic,” I reply. I undo my jeans and shove them down, letting my cock spring free. It’s already got precum at the tip, and I fist my length.
Not as good as her cunt, but I needsomethingto take the edge off. I kick off the rest of my clothes and stalk toward her. I tug on one of the ribbons attached to her ankle. She uncrosses her legs and lets me pull it toward the corner of the bed.
I curl my fingers around her ankle. Her skin is smooth and soft and warm, and she shivers slightly at my touch. I yank, and she squeaks as she slides down the bed. Until she’s flat. There’s enough length to secure her to the legs of the bed, so I do first the one leg, then the other.
When I get up to her head, she eyes me carefully.
I lean down and press my lips to hers.
She gives in immediately, arching up like she can dive into me. My tongue sweeps the seam of her lips, and then I pull away. I pluck her phone from her hand and set it aside, then tie her wrists together. I drag them up over her head, looping the ribbon around part of the headboard. Bless whoever decided to make it not a solid block of wood.
“Is this from your corset?” I ask, pausing to touch the material.
She bites her lip. “I found them in your closet.”
My heart is picking up speed, and any meditation calmness I gained on the walk back here is gone.
Her gaze drops to my dick.
“When did you get the piercings?” she asks.
I run my hand across her chest, pausing to thumb her nipple.
“The first one, I got just over a year ago,” I admit.
When she hooked up with my brother for the first time.
Because I wanted something just as painful to be physical, too. I couldn’t make sense of the betrayal and anger I felt toward both of them.
“And then the second…”
Well, that came when she said she loved him. In her sleep.
I shouldn’t have been watching her that night, shouldn’t have stepped into his room when I knew he was downstairs. But she was upset, crying even unconscious, and then she just fucking said it.
It killed me—she’d fallen in love with someone else.
Someone who wasn’t me.
I pinch her nipple, and she gasps. Arches again, pushing into my touch instead of shirking away from it.
