Bound by Lust by Shanna Germain Read Free Book Online Page B

minutes earlier, we were a snarl of languid limbs and sex-scented serenity. I tuck my chin into her shoulder, settle my head against hers.
    â€œI love you,” she says.
    â€œYou should.”
    â€œYou’ll thank me later.”
    â€œI’ll spank you later.”
    â€œFine,” she says, and for a second, I think she sounds more cheerful than fearful. Yeah, right. Lisa, she’s…well, let’s just say that her idea of kinky is making love with the lights on.
    On the other hand…she is suspiciously submissive. I know the bible is all in favor of discipline and obedience, but that doesn’t mean… Actually, now that I think about it, I wonder if that does mean…I mean, maybe it’s possible, I guess, that she…
    Nah, forget it. There is no way on God’s green earth that Lisa would ever go for any of that rough stuff.
    Â 
    Lisa is bound and determined to make me pay attention. I am paying attention—to her. Lisa’s got a body like Jane Russell but dresses like Jane Addams. Except today. It could be my imagination, but I’m almost positive there’s something different about
her appearance today. Her blouse seems less bulky and less buttoned. Her skirt seems less long and less loose.
    I study the outline of her backside. It’s a well-rounded rump, the kind that’s just cruising for a bruising.
    Lisa leans into me. “Why, may I ask, are you so fixated on my fanny?” she demands, the spicy scent of her breath complementing the playful pitch of her voice.
    My gaze shifts to the bible sinking into my lap. I’m sure my eyes are as black as its leather binding. God, please let this be over soon.
    As if in answer to my prayers, the group leader initiates the closing communion. I like this part. It means I get to hold Lisa’s hand openly.
    Afterward, Lisa makes me socialize and help eat the donuts that someone brought, none of which have sprinkles.
    How much longer are we going to be here? I mean, come on—there’s got to be a limit on the number of impure thoughts a person can think inside a house of worship before they get excommunicated.
    â€œNancy and I will clean up today,” Lisa volunteers. Jesus christ, what the hell is she doing?
    The fellowship hall clears out, until we’re left in the company of bibles and burgundy chairs and acorn-colored tables.
    â€œDid you enjoy that?” Lisa inquires, closing the door. A quiet click follows close behind.
    â€œYes, particularly the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. Who knew it had nothing to do with homosexuality?”
    â€œYearning and learning? My goodness. And you thought you were lousy at multi-tasking.”
    We lock lips, bump hips.
    â€œAren’t you going to thank me properly?” she pouts.
    â€œI just did.”

    â€œI’ll rephrase,” she says, daintily pinching her skirt between her thumb and index finger. “Aren’t you going to spank me properly?”
    Lisa flips a chair around, presses it up against a table. She climbs onto the cushion, her knees carving divots into the seat.
    My lips leap into a smile. I pitch her skirt up, shove the hem inside the waistband. Her panties are plain, simple, virgin-white. “Is God going to smite you?”
    â€œNo,” Lisa assures me. “You are.”
    â€œSo, essentially, I’ll be doing God’s work?”
    Lisa nods, propelling her bottom into my palm as she submits to me, bound by lust and trust. That’s all the encouragement I need. I rub her rump, massaging the flesh, tracing halos on her skin with my fingertips.
    I study the cheeky curves of her backside. “I have a feeling this is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you,” I murmur, just before my hand whomps her posterior.
    Lisa giggles. She steeples her fingers, presses her palms together.
    â€œLord, have mercy?” I venture, wondering how long it will take to get that Dixie Cups ditty,