The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7)

The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7) by S. E. Lund Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7) by S. E. Lund Read Free Book Online
Authors: S. E. Lund
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    The woman with her was brunette and on the petite side, with a nice rack. Our eyes met momentarily, and I smiled. She wasn’t my usual type, but there was something about her. An innocent look that was in direct contrast to the sexy little black dress she was wearing that barely held in her cleavage. I wondered if she was a nurse as well but I hadn't seen her around NYP.
    Maybe a new nursing student. If I hadn't been in the lifestyle, I might be tempted to go over to the table, strike up a conversation with the blonde so I could meet the brunette, but that was out of the question.
    Before I left the bar, I went to the washroom for a quick pit stop and bumped into the pretty brunette. She pushed the door open to the woman's washroom and knocked into me. I had to grab her to keep her from falling, because she was wearing ridiculously high leather heels and hadn't seemed to have mastered them.
    " Whoa ," I said, and caught her by the arms, pulling her against my body. " Steady …"
    "Oh, so sorry," she said and grabbed onto my shoulders. She glanced up shyly, her cheeks reddening. "I'm not really used to these."
    In that moment, I was struck by the soft warmth of her body, the scent from her hair, and the soft curve of her breasts pressed against my chest.
    She was delicious .
    I was probably half a foot taller than her and from my vantage point, I was able to peek down her dress and see the swell of her breasts pushed together by the tight bodice.
    Now, I had admittedly fucked a lot of women in my time. Before I was married, I played around a lot, trying to figure out what sex was all about and what I liked and needed. I was married for five years and had a lot of sex, especially in the first few years we were together. Since I divorced, I had quite a few submissives, both as regular play partners and one-offs I topped at dungeon parties.
    I wasn't an inexperienced teenager, but the way my body responded to her, you would have thought I hadn't had sex for months instead of a week and a half.
    In that second or two I had her in my arms, her body pressed against mine, I imagined her naked, those breasts bound with thin leather straps, the leather wrapped around them so they protruded, her nipples hard and swollen. Her lips would be parted, she'd be blindfolded, and would gasp as I ran my teeth over the sensitive peaks, just a tiny bit of pain to make her aware of how soft and warm my tongue was afterwards.
    God … She was lovely.
    She smelled like shampoo and citrus. I wanted to bury my face in her groin and inhale deeply.
    I finally pulled myself together enough to respond. "Trying to defy the laws of physics?" I said and smiled as I helped steady her. I glanced down at her shoes once more. "Nice shoes though. Love the leather straps…"
    I would love to see her naked, my leather straps binding her body, looping around her tiny waist and over her hips, down between her thighs, splitting her labia…
    "Thank you," she said, straightening up with my help.
    At that moment, I wished she were a submissive. She had creamy white skin, and looked to be of Celtic background with green eyes and long golden brown hair. Her shyness suggested she might incline towards submission, especially with someone older, but there was no way of knowing from such a momentary meeting. It was wishful thinking on my part.
    She smiled briefly and then turned back to the bar as if she couldn't wait to get away from me.
    Despite my strong response to her, I knew she was right to do so for in that moment, I wanted her the way a wolf wants a doe, the need to possess her completely welling up inside of me more powerfully than it had in a long time.
     
    Run away, little girl. You don't belong with someone like me.
     
    I followed her back to the bar without using the washroom, forgetting completely why I went. At that moment, I wanted to go up to her and speak with her, but instead, I finished my martini with a gulp to help calm me. I said goodbye to

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