Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

her bra. “We’re not going to need this.” He slid the straps down her arms.

She felt herself go mad for a touch. His body, mouth, and hands had been everywhere, seducing, teasing, everywhere except the places she wanted him to touch. Her skin tingled with need, her body warm and creamy for him on the inside.

Her breasts free, he pulled her sharply against him, capturing both nipples and pinching hard. Her knees almost buckled as heat streaked to her womb and tremors shot to her clitoris. Oh, God. Opening her eyes, she met his in the mirror, then savored the sight of her tight nipples in his fingers.

He smiled. With the flat of his hand, he circled, soothing each peak. The sensation was as electric as the pinch. She’d be a puddle of gelatin before the night was over.

Ford drew the corset from the bag and wrapped it around her. Unlike an old-fashioned corset, this one fastened down the front with a row of hooks and down the back with lacings.

“This could take forever,” he murmured, then he started on the front hook-and-eye fastenings. With every catch, the corset strafed her nipples in exquisite torture, followed by the warmth of his fingers. Over and over, one done, he began another, the sensations seemingly endless.

“I love sensitive nipples.” He stimulated each individual nerve, lingering, making her pant with need.

Sophia shifted her hips, rubbing him. His cock surged against her backside.

“Naughty, naughty girl.”

“Well, get on with it.”

He held her gaze in the mirror. “Slow is so much better.”

He was right. Yet she enjoyed getting feisty. Finally he was done, and he stepped back to peruse his handiwork. Her breasts swelled above the lace, her skin creamy against the red satin, her dark hair striking. The bones of the corset forced her to stand straight, the front arrow resting provocatively on her abdomen, as if it were pointing the way for him. The look in his eyes left her amazingly wet.

He tipped his head side to side. “Tighter, Scarlett.” He tugged on the back laces.

She sucked in a breath. “Not tighter, Mammy.”

But Ford did what he wanted, cinching her waist and plumping her breasts, the slightest hint of areola revealed. “That’s what I like.”

She loved the effect, and honestly, it was comfortable. Not that comfort mattered. She’d have borne a lot less to inspire that heated look as his gaze roamed her reflection, not to mention the delicious rasp of material on her skin.

“You’re too fucking hot,” he said, running his palm along the lace edging above her breasts, touching her skin with nothing more than the heat of his hand.

Stepping back completely, he swept his arm out. “What do you think?”

In red and black, her shoulders bared, she felt sexy and decadent yet elegant and classy.

“Simon’s going to feast on you.”

She wanted Ford to feast.

As if he read her mind or the expression in her eyes, he raised the full skirt. Above her knees, over her thighs, to the lace top of her stockings, her thong, the garter.

“You’ve got on too many clothes.”

She laughed. “You just dressed me.”

“I made a mistake.” He backed her up against the counter. “Hold this.” Folding the skirt into her grasp, he went to his knees before her to unsnap the garter’s fastenings, then rolled her panties past her hips. The thong’s crotch clung a moment to her pussy, then pulled free. Ford closed his eyes and inhaled. “Christ, you smell good.”

His mouth so close, she was too entranced to utter a word.

He whisked the panties over her stockings and down her legs, lifting one foot, then the other, to remove them.

He stroked her with his eyes. “Your pussy is so plump and pink and pretty.”

She laughed.

“I want this.” He blew on her, and Sophia gasped. Moisture flooded her. Her pussy contracted almost as if she were orgasming. His touch as he refastened the garters tantalized the skin of her thighs.

Rising to his full height above her, he cupped her face in his palms. “I will make sure tonight is the best thing you’ve ever had.” Then he dipped his head to take her mouth.

The first touch, the first taste. Electrifying. She felt him in every cell of her body as he held her face. She parted her lips. He delved deeper, seeking, taking, his taste sweet yet sparkling with a hint of wine. Then he backed off to lick, nip, and tease, before going deep once again.

She couldn’t breathe when he let her go, losing herself in his gaze. Incredible yet terrifying. And utterly exciting. They hadn’t even dated. Now she was supposed to take on him and another man. It was sex with a stranger yet there was safety in being with Ford. He was giving her the best of both worlds.

She wouldn’t forget tonight. Ever. She almost wished it could end with this perfect moment, so that she could never, ever forget it.

A bell tinkled through the suite.

Oh, God.

Simon Foster had arrived.

Five

Sophia hadn’t spoken much during dinner, nor had she eaten more than a few bites of the scallops Ford had ordered for her. She barely looked at Simon. In the bathroom, she’d been hot, wet, and pliable. Ford lost her the moment the bell rang.

Her regret lay in the middle of the table between them all. It was on the tip of Ford’s tongue to get rid of Simon and start over with her. Alone.

Then Simon yanked the bottle of wine from the bucket. “Your glass is empty.” He filled Sophia’s for her.

Getting her drunk wasn’t how Ford wanted this to happen.

Simon was decent-looking, thick graying hair, six feet, wide shoulders, a toned bulk women seemed to like, and a ready smile. Looks weren’t enough. Sophia was elegant and refined. The guy was a little rough around the edges even if he had worn a suit and tie.

Had Ford made a mistake in his choice?

Sophia picked up the glass, actually looked at Simon, and smiled for the first time. One of her real