Bind Me Before You Go (Entangled Brazen) (Serve) by Harper Kincaid Page A

open, but she returned his gaze. Her orgasm was growing. Fast. Intense.
    She was afraid it was too big, more than anything she’d ever experienced. She could tell he was almost there, too, and she needed him to come with her. To complete their union. She looked into his face, sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut as he barreled into her.
    He practically roared as he released into her, pummeling at lightning speed. She soon followed and plunged off the cliff with him. Just before tunneling into an abyss of graceful abandon, she sunk her teeth right into the corded muscle between his neck and shoulder. Leaving her own mark. Branding him to her. She licked the bite, lost in the explosion of dark and light, air and breath that swirled around them.
    He broke away from her and threw the used condom into a nearby trashcan, and grabbed a blanket and a knife. He came back over, laid out the blanket underneath her, and then took hold of her body in one arm while cutting the suspending rope with the other. Once the rope was cut, her weight went into him, and he collapsed onto the blanket and cradled her in his arms.
    They were both heaving, trying to catch their breath. Soon after, though, he removed all the ropes around her, grabbed some lotion, and started rubbing her all over. She eyed some marks on her ankles, but they weren’t deep.
    “Those will fade by tomorrow,” he promised.
    Then he put the lotion down and brought her close to him, using his arms and legs to wrap himself around her. She rotated her body so her back fitted to his front, and he quickly melded into her frame.
    Part of her was luxuriating in the most mind-blowing sex of her life. She loved the smell of him, the mixture of their sex and sweat. There was something about him that was so masculine and virile, yet he was vulnerable, too, shown by his desire to cuddle her afterwards.
    The other part of her wanted to bolt. Not because she wasn’t into him, but because she was .
    He’d told her he wasn’t boyfriend material. And she accepted that. She didn’t believe it was a good idea to try to change a person. You had to accept people for who they were, not who they could be.
    David wasn’t her boyfriend, and he never would be. He was her lover, and taking him simply as that without obsessing over turning him into something more was what had helped her embrace her desires without worrying if they would sour the chance for a relationship.
    The whirlwind in her head stopped as soon as he took hold of her chin and turned her to face him. He kissed her, and she instantly melted into him, wanting to dissolve into his body and soul.
    “You have a great laugh,” he said between kisses. “You sounded like a kid, laughing deep from the belly.”
    She’d felt like a kid when he was spinning and pushing her, like on a playground swing. It brought back an old memory for her.
    “What are you thinking right now?” he asked, his voice quiet and soft.
    She propped herself on an elbow and rested her head in her hand. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
    His eyes grew warmer. Boyfriend or not, his affection for her was apparent. “I want to hear anything you have to say.”
    She loved hearing that, but she wasn’t going to let on just how much.
    She expelled the air trapped in her throat. “When I was really little, like three or four, my Nana and Pop used to babysit me. I must have been over at their apartment every day. Anyway, Pop had this big black leather secretary chair—you know, the kind that spins and is on wheels?”
    He nodded and smiled in response, quietly encouraging her to continue.
    “He used to spin me in that chair for hours and hours. I didn’t let anyone else spin me except for my Pop. Not that anyone else was volunteering for the job, but he was the only one who would spin the chair really fast. No matter how fast he spun me, I always felt safe over there. With them. They both died shortly after that, within a year of each