Chapter Twenty-Seven

Braden.

I close the book quickly, my cheeks and chest warming. “I wasn’t…”

“Yes, you were. Don’t lie to me, Skye.”

I look down at the book lying on the floor. “Your library is beautiful.”

“Thank you. I like it.”

“So…I guess I should take a shower.” I rise.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “I think I’d like to fuck you right here in my library, among all these books.”

I part my lips, my body on high alert.

“God, you have the sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen.”

The urge to smile overwhelms me, but I hold my lips in their parted position. For some reason, my lips drive Braden wild, and right now I want him madly wild and passionate.

He yanks the bathrobe off me, and in a second, it’s a white puddle on top of the Turkish rug.

“I’ll answer all your questions, Skye, but first I’m going to take what I need. Do you have any idea what it does to me to see you caressing your breasts while looking at that book?”

Am I supposed to answer? I already know. The book did the same to me. My nipples are erect and ready, yearning for attention.

“Yes,” I say.

He grabs my hand and leads it to the bulge inside his trousers. “I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, and I’m exhausted. No other woman could get me hard under these circumstances. Do you know that?”

“No. I mean… Yes, I guess.”

“You guess?” He pushes my hand farther into his crotch. “Do you seriously think I could be lying to you?”

“No. Of course not.”

“On your knees,” he says gruffly. “Take out my cock and suck it.”

His command turns me on more than he even knows, given the first image I saw in the book. For an instant, I wish I were bound like that woman in black and white, so that all I can do is suck him. I drop to my knees quickly and unbuckle his belt. I slide his pants and boxer briefs over his hips, and his dick springs out. I lick the tip and savor the salty drop of liquid.

He groans, and I look up at him. His gaze is blue fire.

“Do you do those things, Braden?”

“Damn it, Skye. We’ll talk later. Right now, I want my cock in your hot little mouth.”

I don’t question him. My body has already burst into flames, and I want this as much as he does. I take him into my mouth about three-quarters of the way before I pull back.

His groan fuels my desire, and when he grabs my hair and shows me the rhythm he prefers, I don’t hesitate. This isn’t a blow job. This is him fucking my mouth. I never realized there was a difference until now. With a blow job, I’m in control. With a mouth fuck, he is.

The soft sucking and slapping sounds dance around me. I’m hyperaware of them after Braden’s lesson in hearing. His cock head hits the back of my throat with about every other thrust, and I take it. I take it because it’s what he wants. Because I want what he wants.

He thrusts and he thrusts, and soon I know he’s close to release. He said he would fuck me in the library, and though this isn’t what I expected when he said it, this is still a fuck.

“Damn it, Skye. Going to come. Going to come in your mouth. Fuck!” He rams into me and pulses as he releases.

I suppress the choke as best I can and take it. I take it all. All of him. All of Braden.

I ease my mouth away when he’s done and inhale a much-needed breath. A few minutes later, he adjusts his underwear and pants. Then he pulls me to my feet.

“I needed that,” he says. “I’m aware of your needs, too, Skye. We were interrupted last night. You’ll get your reward. Anticipation makes it better.”

I nod, my core throbbing as I force myself not to look down at the book still on the floor.

“I’m sorry for being nosy,” I say.

“No apology necessary. If I wanted to keep you out of this room, I would’ve locked it.”

“Okay. Good.”

“So what do you think? Of the book.”

“Honestly? It’s amazing. The photography, I mean.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m not asking you your opinion as a photographer. What do you think of the subject?”

I bite my lip. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re hedging.”

“Braden, I’m not.”

“You were playing with your nipple when I walked in here, Skye. You were turned on.”

“I admit that. That doesn’t mean I’m sure about the subject matter.”

“Fair enough,” he says.

“Do you…do that?”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Practice bondage? You already know the answer to that question. I’ve bound you many times.”

“Not like in the book.”

“Of course not. The bondage in that book is not for beginners.”

“I get that. I know I’m a beginner. But just how far advanced in this bondage have you gone?”

He gives me a half smile. “I can say this. I haven’t tried everything in that book.”

“The book is an inch thick, Braden. I’m not sure anyone has tried everything in there. You know what I’m asking.”

“Do you want to tell me every detail about your previous dalliances?”

“There’s not much to tell, but if you want to know, sure.”

“I’ll tell you this much, Skye. From the first time I saw you, embarrassed by a condom, your cheeks and chest red and your full lips parted in that way that drives me slowly to burning passion, I imagined you bound intricately for my pleasure.”

I gulp. Loudly.

“Surely that doesn’t surprise you.”

Does it? I’m not sure.

“You like the idea. Your chest got noticeably pinker when I said the words.”

He’s not wrong. And I only saw two pictures. What other delicacies lie between the pages of that book?

“Is this what you meant when you talked about the part of your lifestyle that stays here in Manhattan?”

“Partially.”

“Why? Why only here?”

“I’ve told you. I’m too close to Boston. My father lives there. My mother…”

His mother. The mother he never talks about.

“What about your mother?”

“Nothing.”

I don’t push it. He’s exhausted and needs to sleep. Not the time to get into a heavy discussion that he’ll fight me on.

“Your private life is your private life, Braden. You should be able to enjoy it wherever you are.”

“I do enjoy my private life in Boston. You of all people should know that.”

“What do you do here, then? What does Manhattan have that Boston doesn’t?”

“You’ll see. Soon.”