Tied Up Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Emily Kilduff

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  eISBN: 9781386214519

  print: 9781726702249

  Edited by Christa Soulé Désir: editorchrista.com

  Created with Vellum

  Praise for Sionna Fox

  “Fight Fire with Fire,” also in Rogue Passion

  Fight Fire with Fire…blew me away. It was beautiful, nuanced, deeply characterized, full of glorious details about art and creativity and curating art exhibits. It was delightfully insistently queer in a way that just took my breath away and felt so intensely resonant. It made me cry, I felt so much for these characters, felt so held by the story.

  -Corey’s Book Corner

  This was faaaantastic…This one really went all out with tackling social issues, and the incorporation of body image was great.

  -The Book Hammock

  Bound To

  Bound To is an erotic bittersweet coming of age romance...A full body read that flows along at a steady pacing with a witty banter, steamy sex scenes, and an engaging heroine whose initiation into BDSM opens the door to infinite possibilities if only she can accept she is worthy of it all.

  -Smexy Books

  I absolutely flipping love this book!....there is something about this one, in particular, that had me completely glued to my Kindle. Ms. Fox hit a home run with this one!

  -Behind Closed Doors Book Reviews

  Every encounter is...highlighted by the heady enticement of finally exploring what feels right to Jolene, not just good. Bound To was at its best when reminding us that getting to know who we really are might alter the person we always thought we were—and that’s okay.

  -That's What I'm Talking About

  Dark Rooms

  It was hot, cold, tragic, vibrant, intoxicating, sexy, ouchy, fun, and entertaining and not necessarily in that order.

  -The Romance Reviews, Top Pick

  Dark Rooms was a hot 4 star read.

  -Alpha Book Club

  The illicit affair is sizzling hot and grabs the reader’s attention for a delightful adult read.

  -Night Owl Reviews

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Also by Sionna Fox

  Bound To Preview

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  For everyone whose friends would lovingly tell them their feelings are actually like a Tyrannosaurus rex on a bender.

  And for those friends.

  Prologue

  Kate knelt. Heels neatly tucked into the crease where ass met thigh, back straight, eyes down. She clutched her collar in her upturned hands.

  “Please, Sir.”

  He would make her wait. Always. No matter that this was the last night she would ever spend with him. She was leaving tomorrow. She had to, she’d said. It was for the best. It was a long time coming. Still she needed this. Needed him and what he could do. One more time.

  “Oh, I think you’ve lost the right to call me Sir, don’t you, kitten?” The words stung.

  Kate was disowning herself, but she couldn’t bear the thought of using his given name. Not now. Not yet. Not like this. “Please.” She took a deep breath. “I need you.”

  He was tall and a bit wiry, looming over her in the semi-darkness of the bedroom that had always been his, no matter how many years she’d shared his bed. She closed her eyes and waited, mentally cataloging images of this room. There was no special furniture. Nothing that would give away its owner’s sexual proclivities was anywhere in view—only a sturdy, four-poster bed with a few well-placed and hidden D-rings; a padded, velvet-covered storage bench; and a particularly soft and plush rug covering the blond hardwood floors. There was not an inch of the room her naked skin had not touched. She had been fucked against every wall, sent to every corner, crawled over every bit of rug and floor, been bound to the bench and each post. She had been owned, collared, and mastered in this room.

  “You don’t need me, kitten. Not anymore.” His voice was softer, sadder, as he knelt beside her and stroked her cheek.

  Kate leaned into the touch, desperate in spite of herself for whatever glimpse of warmth and affection he would offer. “I do. Please. I’m begging you.” Her voice wobbled. There would be no more of this after tonight. She was leaving, starting over. Without him. “Please, Sir. Please.”

  A tear spilled down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb. Had he ever been so gentle with her? He rested his large, warm hand on the back of her neck; with the other, he plucked the simple, black leather collar from her hands and set it on the floor next to her.

  “No more collar, Kate. You’re not mine anymore,” he whispered.

  Kate shuddered as tears raced down her pale, freckled cheeks and dripped from her jaw onto the small swell of her naked breasts. It had been so long since she’d been in love with him; why was leaving him so hard? He pulled her into his arms and stroked her from the crown of her head to the base of her spine while she cried. Over and over, his hands passed across her skin, gentling and soothing her until she stopped sobbing and went limp in his arms. He leaned back against the bench, pushed her to her knees, wiped the last of the tears from her face, and settled her across his lap.

  He breathed deeply and let it out with a resigned sigh. “One more time, kitten. Pick a number between one and five.”

  Kate sniffled and turned her head to smile weakly up at him. Their old, familiar games were already being rewritten by nostalgia. She wiggled her butt and, sticking to the script, chose. “Five, Sir.”

  “Thank you, kitten.” He rained five hard smacks across her ass cheeks, holding nothing back. She flinched and moaned as the stinging heat spread to her clit and made her pussy grasp at nothing. She never could hold still for a hand spanking.

  “Settle down.” He rubbed her bottom before he turned her over, held her cradled on his lap, and slipped two sure fingers along her slit, teasing at her entrance. “You need this, don’t you, kitten?”

  “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.” She gasped as he pressed his fingers into her, stretched her, stroked her. She wriggled and pushed against him as he pressed his thumb to her clit. She writhed under the touch that knew her so well, that could get her so close, so quickly.

  He leaned forward and whispered, “Come for me, kitten. Come for me now,” while he pressed her clit to her pubic bone in tight, hard circles.

  She was lost. Her body tensed, rippled, and relaxed as the orgasm rolled through her. He kept stroking her gently as she came down, then rolled her off his lap, dumping her limp body onto the floor.

  “That was one. Stand up.”

  Kate scrambled to her feet, rubber-limbed and a little breathless. He grasped her roughly by the shoulders, spun her, and bent her over the bed. If that was one, there were four more coming. Anticipation fluttered in her belly, restokin
g the heat at her core, as she heard the bench open and close. A strong hand grabbed a fistful of her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled, bowing her back, pressing her breasts into the mattress and forcing her ass in the air.

  He let go of her hair. “Keep that ass up.”

  Soft tails draped over her shoulders and traced her spine to the deep arch in her back and over the full curve of her ass. Kate smiled to herself. A suede flogger; he was taking this nice and easy, then. She understood what she was in for now. He was giving her their greatest hits to send her on her way.

  The first blow landed across her cheeks, with the barest hint of a sting. Kate sighed and stretched into the impact. The second was harder, and the third, and the ones that followed. The room filled with the solid smacking sound of soft leather on flesh, the moans and gasps and little cries that she never could hold in. For five minutes or five hours, he worked her over. The smack and thud and the subtle sting of it warmed her skin and sent concentrated heat swarming deep in her belly. She rose up on her toes to meet the kiss of the falls as they met her bare and willing flesh. She felt his hand cup her pussy, his fingers part her wet folds and expose the aching, needy center of her to his view.

  “You like being flogged, kitten?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she breathed.

  His fingertips traced her lips, not delving inside, skirted her throbbing clit, drove her halfway to madness. He dropped the flogger next to her face and pressed one hand to the small of her back as he pushed three fingers inside her. She clenched around him and pushed back, tried to take his fingers as deeply as they would go.

  He pulled his fingers from her and settled them around her clit, slippery with her own wetness. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you, kitten?”

  “Yes, Sir. I know, Sir.” Her fists clenched and bunched the quilt under her as she fought against the overwhelming urge to come. But she didn’t want punishment tonight. Only pleasure.

  “Do you need to come, kitten?”

  “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir,” she cried, begging for her release, barely holding on as his fingers tightened around her clit. She would not come without permission.

  “You know I can’t resist when you beg. You can come now, kitten.”

  He pinched and rolled her clitoris between his fingertips, and Kate managed to gasp, “Thank you, Sir,” before she lost control. She screamed into the mattress as her climax peaked and barreled through her body. He took his hands from her pussy and leaned over her, covering her naked back with his chest, still dressed in a finely woven dress shirt and wool trousers. The warmth of his body seeped into her, and the distinct bulge of his cock pressed against her ass.

  “Good girl. That was two. Stand up.”

  Kate wobbled to her feet. She had always picked five when they played this game, but the way he was playing it tonight—letting her come every time—almost made her regret it. They’d found her tipping point between pleasure and anguish before, but maybe that was the idea. Maybe he wanted her to shake and cry, pushed to her limits. A single word could end it all; but she couldn’t stomach ending their last night together with her safeword. If she could catch her breath for a minute, she would be fine.

  While Kate was lost in her slightly addled brain, he’d retrieved leather cuffs for her wrists and thighs. He wrapped them snugly around her limbs and ordered her facedown on the bench. Kate was grateful to lie down again while he fixed her to the thick wooden legs.

  “Where are you, kitten?” He brushed her hair from her face gently.

  “Yellow, Sir. Just for a minute, Sir.”

  “Of course, kitten. Thank you.”

  He knelt on the floor next to her and stroked her hair as her ragged breath calmed and her heart rate slowed. Kate kept her eyes firmly closed. She didn’t want to see the affection in his deep blue eyes, the tenderness etched into the sharp features of his face. She didn’t want to know how much he could still treasure her when they were like this. That he didn’t want her to leave.

  Before the sadness could swamp her again, Kate opened her eyes, smiled her wickedest smile, and whispered, “Green, Sir.”

  “Good girl. Thank you.” He kissed his favorite constellation of freckles on her shoulder and got to his feet.

  She heard his belt buckle and the hiss of the leather as he pulled it free from his pants. She arched her back and wiggled her butt at one of her favorite sounds in the world.

  “Settle down, kitten,” he said, the sharp reprimand softened slightly by amusement.

  The belt snapped as he doubled it over, and her whole body tensed. The sounds, the anticipation—it was all part of the game, and she loved it, every minute of it.

  He didn’t make her wait long before the first strike landed across her shoulder, right over the freckles he had just kissed, like a good, clean punch that left behind a sting. He worked her shoulders and carefully down her back, not quite hard enough to really hurt, but enough to rekindle and stoke her desire. Wetness trickled down the insides of her spread legs as he began to strike her cheeks and her thighs, rewarming her tender flesh. She was dizzy with want, her body tensing and clutching against nothing. The pain had long since melted into pleasure, and the barest effort would send her over the edge again.

  “Close, Sir.”

  Three soft thuds sounded behind her: the belt and his knees. He roughly grabbed her to spread her open and plunged his tongue inside her. She cried out with his sudden invasion. He pulled his tongue from within her and lapped at every centimeter of her labia, pinned wide by his thumbs, as though he wanted to lick her clean of every drop.

  She writhed against her bonds; trying to get closer or trying to escape, she couldn’t say. She begged. She pleaded. She whimpered and cried and screamed and cried some more, and only when he had rendered her wordless did he whisper, “You can come now, kitten,” as he sucked her clit between his teeth. She came like it was the last orgasm she would ever have. She didn’t even notice when he took his mouth from her and released her from the cuffs.

  She surfaced when he spoke, laughing under his breath. “That was three. Stand up.”

  She stood, barely aware that she did so. On unsteady feet she waited, back straight, eyes down, her posture as automatic as following his order. She floated somewhere on the edges of her consciousness, waiting.

  He paced around her, running his fingers all over her skin. He traced her collarbone, her shoulder blades, the column of her neck. He ran the very tips of his fingers over the slight swell of her breasts, passed the barest brush of his fingers over her tight, pink nipples. Kate shivered and resisted the urge to press her body into his hands. The featherlight touches were their own form of torture, teasing and tormenting her with the promise of something more.

  “What shall I do with you, kitten?” He pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and gave a short, sharp tug.

  Kate squeaked but didn’t move. “Whatever you’d like, Sir.”

  He stepped behind her and pressed his body to hers, his cock hard against her lower back. “Get on your knees, kitten.”

  She dropped to the floor, kneeling up, arms at her sides, eyes down. She heard the sound of his zipper and the rustle of fabric. He tapped her chin, and she opened her mouth to him.

  “Good girl,” he groaned as he slid his cock to the back of her throat.

  He gathered her hair in his fist and pulled tight, guiding her mouth, controlling the depth and pace. He forced her to take all of him, until her nose was pressed into the thatch of salt-and-pepper curls at the base of his cock. She choked and spluttered, eyes watering as wetness rushed between her legs again. He pulled back, and she sought him with her mouth even as she gasped for breath. She sucked and licked his cock, moaning her own pleasure and desire into his flesh. She fought to keep her hands down. She wanted to touch him, to touch herself.

  He reached behind her. A second later, she felt the sharp sting of a crop against her nipple. She squealed, from delight more than pain. He tapped and s
lapped and smacked at her breasts while she worked his cock with her mouth. Her clit throbbed, and she clutched her hands behind her back, fighting not to stroke herself to the orgasm that lingered just out of her reach.

  “Enough.” He pushed her away and she bent back, hands braced on the floor behind her. He grinned evilly, standing over her. “Stay there.”

  With a wet slap, he tapped her clit with the crop. Her whole body shivered, pleasure and pain short-circuiting in her spine, in her pussy, in the hazy place her brain was in. He tapped and tapped, steadily harder, each spark of pain humming through her body like an electric shock, inching her closer. He was going to make her beg for it every time tonight. So she did. She begged, and when he had finally heard enough, he said the words: “Come for me, kitten.”

  She moaned and shook as pleasure bolted across every inch of her skin before it came back to the core of her. She collapsed on her side and pulled her knees to her chest, breathing hard and rocking gently from side to side.

  “That was four. Stand up.”

  Kate looked up at him from her place on the floor, a puddle of human. “I don’t think I can, Sir.”

  He swatted her ass with the crop, the leather keeper leaving a wet spot on her skin. “Yes, you can. Stand up, kitten.”