Bound With Pearls by Sidney Bristol Read Free Book Online Page A

about that, but my mind is a little scrambled, Sir.”
    “Scrambled?” He quirked a brow.
    She opened her mouth and shut it. “Not scrambled in a bad way.”
    “There’s scrambled in a good way?”
    “Scrambled eggs?” Her smile transformed her face. She was beautiful, but with the color high in her cheeks, her eyes glazed with lust and her hair tousled, she was stunning.
    He chuckled and leaned over her to press a kiss to her stomach. “Point proven. And?”
    She glanced away and her smile grew. “You weren’t what I expected, Sir.”
    “Well, you weren’t what I expected either. It’s been a pleasure tonight.”
    Her gaze caressed him and stirred a desire for more. He held her gaze and planted a kiss to the top of her mound. Her little gasp was music to his ears as he sank to his knees, her pussy at the perfect level for his mouth.
    “I’m going to fuck your pussy with my mouth, Christine.”
    She whimpered.
    “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”
    “Noooooo,” she wailed. Her thighs clenched around his shoulders.
    Spreading her open, he inserted one finger, sliding into her depths all the way to his knuckles. She clenched around him and her thighs hugged his shoulders.
    “Damn, you’re so fucking responsive.” Pressing a kiss to her clit, he arranged her legs over his shoulders. The restraint at her hips would keep her where he wanted her, but he liked the feel of a woman’s legs wrapping around him.
    He spread her folds and thrust his tongue into her, slow and easy, tasting her unique flavor. He left her clit alone, fucking her with his tongue instead. If her tits were bruised, what the hell had he done to her lower regions? He would be careful.
    Her legs squeezed. He could feel her calves crossing across his back. Her hips shifted slightly against his mouth in an attempt to move with him.
    “Ohgodohgodohgod,” she chanted.
    His hand spread over her lower stomach. He could feel the tightening of her muscles. Dipping his fingers through her thatch of curls, he found her button, swollen and slick. He circled it with his thumb and her entire body reacted, drawing tight around him, close to the edge of release.
    Thrusting into her, he worked her clit gently with his fingertips until she screamed, legs holding him prisoner as her body convulsed around him.
    Minutes later, he lifted her from the cross bench and carried her to the bed. He laid her in the middle of the mattress and spooned her back to his chest. He used a lock of her hair to trace the lines of her tattoo.
    It was a work of art that fascinated him, as did the woman who wore it. It was a graceful part of her. She was the firebird that danced and glowed with an inner light that drew him and made him want things. One of which was a sketchpad. The longer he examined the feathers and the way they moved on her back, the more he wanted to design something similar, yet completely different. A piece to be worn. For the first time in weeks, he felt the bite of inspiration.
    As much as he wanted to allow himself to nap with her, their time was almost up.
    “Hey.” He tugged on the lock of hair until she turned toward him. “They’re going to kick us out of here in a few minutes.”
    She groaned and wiped her face.
    “I know.” He kissed her cheek when she tried to snuggle back into the pillows. His stomach did a flip and his fingers tingled. He wanted this, he was man enough to admit it, but damn if he didn’t feel like a teenager asking a girl out for the first time. “I was thinking, come to my place. Not for sex, to sleep. I’m not ready for tonight to end.”
    She parted her fingers, studying him through the digits. “I don’t understand.”
    He sighed, frustrated with himself and nervous about botching this. He settled his hand over her breast and the purple bruises. “Have you ever wanted to just be with someone? Do you like sleeping with someone else beside you?”
    She nodded.
    “That’s what I mean. Come home with me and