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

In one swift movement, he captured her hands in one of his, pushed them down so they were cupped between her legs. The contact, her own hands against her pussy, the

pressure of his hand against them, arched her up. Her head fell naturally into the cup of his other palm as he brought his mouth onto hers.

Men kissed all different ways, and she’d sampled quite a few of them. Despite that, she had no way of classifying this one. It was a command in a kiss. He didn’t ask to take over; he just did, as if he knew he could take anything he wanted from her. Whether she said yes or no was irrelevant to him. He’d brought her into this kind of setting for a reason. He was the hard-core trappings, the dungeon, the spanking bench and whips. If he’d taken her into a dungeon, she might have been terrified down to her toes. She probably still was, but the setting helped balance what he was putting her through now, kept the danger to a thrilling edge, on the near side of the teetering plunge where she’d lose her mind.

His tongue went deep, exploring teeth and moist flesh, the roof of her mouth and all the hot crevices in a flexible, stroking way that said he was quite aware of which part of a woman’s body was most closely related to her mouth. As he rocked her backward, he released his hold on her hands. She would have grabbed on to his biceps for support, but something told her to keep her hands where they were, and she was smart enough not to move them against herself without his permission. But it was difficult.

When gravity took her down farther, he moved right with her, his arm locked securely on her lower back, fingers spread to hold her buttock tight. As he held her over the fountain’s gurgling waters, the aromatic mist touched her skin. She wanted to touch his corded throat and short hair. While the shirt wasn’t open all the way, the muscled and broad expanse she’d glimpsed had a scattering of fine gold hair dusted across it.

He increased his grip on her buttock, making her mewl. She gasped into his mouth as his thigh insinuated itself between her legs, pressed against her wet heat. It also pushed her back farther, so her ass was hanging over the edge of that wall. He pulled up the bottom of her sheath dress, catching the thin ribbon of her thong in his clever fingers. He moved both out of the way an instant before two well-placed jets of water surged up from the fountain pool, hitting her clit and anus with insistent pressure. The water was cool enough to be a shock, warm enough to make her squirm against it, creating friction. Now she understood why he’d placed her exactly where he had.

“Be still,” he warned her, those eyes close, the mouth gone from sensual to stern and uncompromising. Though he hadn’t touched her mask, it felt stripped away, his gaze boring into hers. “You going to keep trying to run things, Sergeant?”

A girl from her usual club had told her there were two types of Dominants: the

mechanical and the psychological. The good ones mix it, you know. The setting, the toys,the mind games. But the really psychological Doms, they’re rare. I’ve met one or two,and girl, they’re the scariest and most tempting of all. They seem like they knoweverything about you from the get-go, and they don’t need to do a single thing to haveyou licking their boots.

She wasn’t sure she was into boot licking, but that wasn’t what her girlfriend had meant anyhow. It meant something way more than that. She had a feeling she was confronting it at close-quarters distance. Actually, make that point-blank.

He’d told her to be still, but those water jets made it impossible. Her body had to jitter and squirm in response.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she gasped. “I can’t.”

“Like I thought. A discipline problem.” He lifted her away from the jets and, with that same effortless strength, flipped her over. Now he was sitting on the wall and she was on his lap, her wet, glistening bottom perched high. She couldn’t help herself. She gripped the tough denim over his calf and put her mouth on him, biting into the fabric. God, he smelled edible. A man with money and good grooming knew how to seduce a woman’s

nose with the right aftershave and soap, keeping the earthy scent of male as the perfect complement to the mix.

“Five feet and a hundred pounds of trouble.”

A hundred fifteen, but who was arguing? Most of that fifteen was in her ass and tits. No man Dana knew had ever complained about that.

“Lift your arms straight out in front of you.”

Not an easy feat when you were folded over a man’s thighs, but she locked her stomach muscles and that shapely ass to comply, and earned a noticeable twitch from the iron bar of his cock, pressed hard against her belly as an incentive. Blessing every agonizing workout where she’d pushed herself on strength training, she threw in a not-so-subtle rub against him.

He smacked her ass, and it wasn’t some passing swat. Holy God, the man had some

power behind that arm. The wobble of her buttock in response rocked up her spine.

“You’re going to piss me off, little girl, and that’s not something you want to do. You haven’t chosen a Master who can be led around by his cock tonight.”

Uncertainty and indignation flooded her. She didn’t do that. She was looking for a Master who would take the reins. It wasn’t her fault most of them didn’t.

He reached down, making her realize there were compartments in the fountain wall.

Because of her position, she couldn’t see, but after the sound of a hydraulic door closing, he straightened. While she suspected he could hold her with perfect balance, he shifted so she rocked, caught off