Bound For Me(98)

By: Natalie Anderson



Savannah giggled and shimmied out of her jeans. “Good thing you have this secret stairwell.”

“Uh huh.”

The door clicked and he shoved it open. “Get in there before I lose it.”

Oh she wanted him to lose it.

“Fuck me,” she challenged, running ahead of him to his bedroom.

“Face me,” he challenged her right back.

She stopped at the edge of the bed and turned, tilting her chin up at him as he strode towards her, pent-up passion evident in the very strained line of his jeans. “What else do you want me to do?”

“Make sure you’re ready.” He pushed her shoulders and she free-fell backwards, landing with a laugh on the bed. She wriggled out of her panties and then slid her legs apart, lifting her hands to touch her breasts. “You better be quick,” she purred. “I might get off before you get here.”

It was highly likely infact. She stared, avidly watching, as he stripped in record time. She trailed the tips of her fingers down over her stomach, sliding them to her sex. He was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen and she couldn’t stop herself, she couldn’t wait a moment longer. Not when he looked so tense, so clearly on the edge, so full of barely leashed energy. She couldn’t wait to feel the full impact of him. She rubbed her clit, imagining it was him, and groaned. So close.

“Sugar—”

That was a warning.

“Hurry.” Her hips lifted.

In a second he was on her, weighing her down. His hard cock pressed close at her wet entrance. She slid her hands up his tense biceps, to his shoulders, loving the freedom to caress him. To love him.

“You ready?” he asked.

She’d been ready for hours, but she didn’t flip him the sarcastic answer. She was too busy looking into his eyes, savoring that delicious moment just before penetration. Because he knew already. And so did she.

And her heart—so full—burst.

“Love me,” she whispered.

He smiled. A slow, loving, gorgeous smile.

“I am.” He thrust deep. “I do. I always will.” He thrust again, then again. So damn torturously slow.

Sensation stormed through her anyway—a devastating maelstrom. There was no holding anything back now. She cried out, arching up to him, meeting him as physically, as desperately, as she could. She wanted to touch him everywhere, as passionately, as deeply as what he touched her.

“Connor,” she moaned.

“I know. I’m here.”

Right where she needed him. Right how she wanted him. Just the way she loved him.

He grabbed both her hands, lacing his fingers through hers, locking her to him tightly. Sealed together they moved. Mouths, hands, bodies, hearts.

Finally, completely, beautifully, Savannah knew.

They were bound.



THE END

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