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Bound by him, p.11
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       Bound by Him, p.11

           Red Garnier
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  She welcomed it, and he could tell she wanted it. She wanted him to claim her, to push his tongue wherever he wanted. She wanted to be his again. And he would make her his. Irrefutably his. In all the ways a man could own a woman.

  She moaned when he intensified the kiss and splayed her down on the bed. He pillaged her mouth, needing to get as far as he could inside her, into every corner, every nook. Her lips slackened on a moan and she let him.

  He dragged her higher along the bed and pinned her arms up above her head, manacling her wrists with one hand. She trembled wantonly and gazed up at him, undulating as if she wanted every inch of him, every bit of him, inside her.

  “Andrew . . .” she breathed reverently.

  He clenched a breast between his fingers and sucked the nipple into his mouth. “Every day was misery without you.” He lifted his head to hers, breathing hard, his hands stealing around to cup her bottom. “Each day dragged on without you, without being able to hear anything from you . . . wondering if you were all right, who you were with, if you were thinking of me.”

  “Andrew, I’d never have let you go for me. Never. You shouldn’t have been there. You don’t belong there.”

  “I’d do it again for you. I’d do it ten times over.”

  Her eyes flashed in pain, but he soothed her by lifting her left wrist up to his lips. Her eyes glowed with arousal as his tongue flicked out to trace, by memory, the exact path of his name on her skin.

  A moan of pleasure left her lips as he closed his eyes and gently bit. It destroyed her, his teeth, his tongue, his kiss, and she moaned in desperate need. Before he knew it she was sliding her free hand around his shoulder, around his head, pulling his face to hers. “Please, please, I need you.” She placed frantic kisses on every part of him within her lips’ reach: his temple, his jaw, his nose, his mouth. “I was almost ready to remove your name from my skin. I was so angry.”

  His balls clenched as he scraped his piercing along her belly. “You can only cover me . . . you can never remove me. You’re bound to me, Whitney, bound.”

  Water still dripped from his hair, and she shuddered when a drop fell right over her nipple. He eased her down to lick it up, swirling his tongue over her gently, and his cock jerked at the low, mewing sound she released.

  “Did you miss me?” he said, desperate for the words. Desperate like a crazed man for her I love you.

  His tongue curled around one elongated nipple, teasing it until it was oversensitized and making her writhe in pure bliss. He fingered her pussy as he continued torturing her with pleasure, and could feel her walls eagerly squeeze him with each pull of his mouth. Flames licked him on the inside as Whitney tossed her head in reckless abandon. “Yes,” she breathed.

  “You wanted me. You had erotic dreams about me?”

  “Yes . . . yes . . .”

  He brought his mouth to her other nipple, and it was as sweet, as hard, and as juicy as the first.

  His fingers caressed across her slickened folds, drawing out her cream. She watched him through heavy eyes, her face soft and dewy, too perfect, too beautiful, she was already dangerously close to losing it underneath him. He could tell by the way the breath shuddered from her lips as she exhaled, the way her gasps came more frequently, her pussy rippled around his finger.

  She was his drug, and he was addicted to her. Her woman’s scent assailed his senses, overpowered his mind until she became the center of his universe, of his entire existence. Her. His sweet young girl, now a strong, vibrant young woman. He retook her mouth with a groan, one hand intimately caressing her breasts alternately, his fingers still teasing and coaxing out the wet heat from her body.

  “Tell me . . .” he continued as he slid one finger into her channel, and then another, until he pushed three. “That you still love me, trust me, are bound to me in here—” He nuzzled his nose above her left breast, where her heart pounded furiously. “Tell me, darling.”

  “Andrew, I love you so much I wanted to die when you left. I wanted to die . . . when you left . . .”

  The groan that tore from his lips was rough, primal, as he crushed her mouth beneath his and gave her a kiss that was meant to set her entire being aflame. It did. She was gasping for breath when he dragged his lips down her delicate throat.

  “I’m yours,” she said in a breathless moan, pushing her sweet pussy up to his body. “Completely bound. Completely taken. All yours.” She clawed at his back and bit desperately into his neck, and Andrew knew she was dying for him inside her as badly as he was hurting.

  “Darling, I was wrong. You’re strong, you’re so strong now—I should’ve told you. I should’ve . . . known you by now. My little warrior. My fiery little thing.”

  He parted her with his hands, eliciting a wanton plea to tear from her throat when she realized he was about to penetrate her.

  He crushed her mouth again as his hips aligned with hers. He surged back between her parted thighs, his cock thrusting hard and pulsing toward her, and she watched as he prodded her entry, her stare wildly passionate.

  “Tomorrow—I’m binding you to me forever. We’re going to City Hall. In every law of man and God and every way possible, you will belong to me, Whitney.”

  “Yes. Yes,” she cried, pleading for him, his love, his possession.

  Inch by inch, he entered her, stealing the remains of her breath when he seated himself inside. Whitney could feel his cock ring rub against her G-spot every time he dragged himself out.

  Hands holding her hips in place, the rhythm he took up was a merciless pounding that made her scream, and it made him bark out in pleasure as his hips rammed against her with bone-jarring force. “Harder. All of me, please!”

  Waves of ecstasy throbbed through her as he bit down on her lower lip, and she bit back, his wild possession reminding her they belonged together. His teeth pulled on the flesh of her lower lip, the pleasure exquisite, and Whitney gasped as her muscles contracted, poised for release.

  As though noticing she was there, he groaned into her mouth and increased the force of each thrust, so that his cock filled her up, choked her, stretched her, making her delirious with the added stimulation of his piercing rasping across the deepest recesses of her being.

  He grabbed her arms up above her head and pinned them down as he braced himself on her for leverage, his hips swiveling round and round in a way that made her twist in pleasure, and once he entered her again and buried himself up to the base of his shaft, coming inside her with hard, fast jerks of his cock, Whitney exploded with his name on her lips. Andrew . . .

  Andrew Fairchild. Her love, her soul, her everything.

  Was home at last.

  About the Author

  Photo Credit: JCP Portrait Studio

  Red Garnier loves a good book and a great romance. Nothing brings a smile to her face faster than a happily-ever-after, especially one she gets to pen down. Red is living her deepest, most cherished dream today, thanks to a bit of luck, a lot of work, and a lot of support. She is a happy wife, a cherished mother, and a full-time writer. You can visit her website at to find out more about her and her upcoming books.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  “Bound by Him” copyright 2013 by Red Garnier.

  All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  Cover art © OLJ Studio/

  eISBN 9781466833463

  First eBook Edition: June 2013

  Want to know what happens next?

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  Red Garnier, Bound by Him



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