Bound By Desire (The Acadian Curse) (10 page)

She would have made a phenomenal lawyer. For
every doubt and concern she had a sane and rational argument. Her
words never managed to dismiss his fears entirely. They ran too
deep to be extinguished in such a short amount of time. Instead she
appealed to his sense of hope. She made him want to believe.

Sarah smiled at him as he stepped out the
truck. “Good choice.”

“We’ll see,” he said, stepping around the
truck bed.

She slipped her hand into his and led him up
the short path to the front door. He felt a momentary awkwardness
as he stepped through the entrance. This was her father’s house.
Dr. Henry McIntire’s house. A man he knew and respected. The house
was small and old in comparison to his own. The furniture was worn.
There were cracks in a few of the entryway tiles, but it felt like
a home, one that had been lived in and loved in for a long
time.

She could have brought him to a hotel. She
could have insisted that they go to his bedroom once they were back
at the ranch. But instead she had brought him here, to her
childhood home. Not her apartment or her place, but her
home
.

It was hard for Grant to wrap his mind around
everything that her gesture of vulnerability meant. She didn’t just
trust him. She believed in him.

“Do you want to sit down?” Sarah asked. “I’ll
get us a drink.”

He shook his head. The beast inside him
surged.

Home
. The beast surged within him,
spurred on by the idea.
Home. Inside of her.

“Something to eat? I could whip us up
something—”

He pushed her up against the door, sliding
his hands beneath her shirt and dragging it up over her head. She
giggled, a sweet sound that rang in his ears.

“Or we could do this,” she said.

He unzipped her pants and pushed them down.
She kicked them off onto the floor. Her bra and panties followed
close behind.

Sarah reached out to do the same to him. He
grasped her hands before she had a chance and pinned her wrists to
the door above her head. She hissed in a breath.

“This.”

He kissed her, drawing her full lower lip
between his teeth. He sucked on it, teasing it with his tongue
until she moaned and squirmed in his hands. Only then did he take a
step back and take a long look over her naked body.

His cock swelled with need. Images of all the
things he wanted to do to her filled his head. His thoughts or the
creature’s? Did it matter? They were one in the same, or so Sarah
kept telling him. One the civilized veneer and the other the animal
longing, but at the core they were fused, inseparable.

Whatever he was, he knew what he wanted, and
it was more than a frantic tumble in a hallway. He hooked his arm
underneath her knees and lifted her up. She wasn't a tiny woman but
she felt light in his arms.

"Which room is yours?" he asked.

"To the left, at the back of the house.”

He followed her directions, kicked open the
door and flicked on the light switch. The room looked like any
other guest room. The bed was simple, the furnishing spare. The
only remaining hint that this had once been Sarah’s bedroom was the
colorful daisy paper that still clung to the walls.

Grant laid her out on the bed so that she was
sprawled out before him. She immediately started to sit up and
reach for him.

"Stay," he said. And she did.

He loomed over her, taking in the sight of
her. Her body was beautiful, lithe and strong and vulnerable. All
that pale skin, just begging to kissed, to be touched, to be marked
by him.

He bent at the waist and stroked his fingers
across the soft skin of her stomach. She fidgeted, trying to hide
the little things she saw as imperfections. She brought her hands
to her sides trying to cover the lines of faded stretch marks that
marred the swell of her hips. She bent her knees up so that her
thighs wouldn't flatten on the mattress.

“Stop,” he commanded.

He knocked her hands away to the side. He
pressed her legs down. She turned her head off to the side.

"Look at me, Sarah."

Slowly, she obeyed. Her eyes were swimming
with reluctance. Too damn bad. She had demanded that he bare
himself to her, that he reveal himself to the extent that he
questioned everything that had come before her. If she thought that
she could ask that of him and still cling to all her petty
insecurities, she was dead wrong.

He drank in the sight of her.

And wanted more.

He pressed two fingers against her cleft.
They sank easily between the wet folds there. Grant rubbed them
back and forth, back and forth, coating his fingers with her
wetness. She moaned and tilted her pelvis back, giving him a better
angle to find her clit.

"I told you to stay still."

Grant lifted his fingers to his mouth and
licked them clean.
Just one more taste.

He grasped her ankles and yanked her down to
the edge of the bed. Her ass hung precariously over the edge. He
lowered himself between her outstretched legs.

“Don’t move an inch. Don’t even shiver or I
will be forced to show you what happens when you don’t obey.” Grant
ran his tongue up the length of her. "Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good."

He tasted her again. He found the bud of her
clit with his tongue and circled it. A soft moan came from her
lips. She was so wet. So ready for him. He could take her right now
and she would take him easily.

But that wasn't what he wanted.

He wanted to feel her break. He needed it. He
needed to feel the moment that ceded her control to him
instead.

He curled his fingers around the curve of her
thighs and pushed them apart. So hard that he felt her muscles
begin to strain. He kept going, tasting her—testing her with his
tongue. She moaned and mewed. Her breath came in great gasps. He
felt her muscles tense until strong vibrations ran through her.

She was close to the edge. Against his word
he ignored her little shivers and shakes, those involuntary
movements that she could not control. He wasn't interested in
technical victories.

Grant pressed down hard with his tongue,
roughly lapping at the most sensitive part of her. She cried out
again and again.

The creature inside him rushed to the
surface. The grip on her legs tightened. He drew her clit into his
mouth and sucked, hard.

Her muscles convulsed and her back buckled,
coming off the bed in a perfect arch. He felt every part of her
tense and release as pleasure swept through her body. He felt it
almost as keenly as she did.

Yes. That was what he wanted.

He came to his feet, pulling her limp body up
with him as he went.

"I tried," she said weakly.

"No excuses.” His voice was deep and
gravelly. "You had your turn, and now I will have mine."

He turned her around so that she faced the
wall. Her arms shook with the strain of trying to support her
weight on the mattress. He pressed on her back a little harder and
she collapsed, leaving her ass high in the air. He bent down as
drew his tongue along the curve. He smiled as she squealed in
surprise.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, too
weak and pleasure sated to resist.

"I am going to take what's mine."

He stroked the length of his hard cock
against her cunt, coating it with her wetness. Her moans were
hesitant as he rubbed against her clit, as if she knew her pussy
wasn't what he wanted. Not this time.

When he was slick enough, he lifted the tip
of his cock to the tight opening of her ass. Her body was spent,
but there was still a little resistance in her.

She'd never done this before, he realized
through the haze of lust.

He put his hand against the small of her back
and gently caressed the muscles there. After a minute, he felt her
loosen. He pressed forward, and she tensed again. He alternately
soothed and took, until he had inched his way inside her.

He growled in victory as his hips pressed
against her hips. She was so tight around him, growing tighter with
every passing second.

He didn’t need to look at the windows to know
the darkness had finally overtaken the last of the daylight. He
felt it deep within his veins, in every beat of his heart. The
power of the curse flowed through him. His skin stung as it was
pulled taut. His muscles swelled.

Grant didn’t fight it. He let it flow through
him. This was who he was, who he was meant to be. With her.

The desire to move, to grind and flex, claim
and take, was strong, but he fought it. Her body couldn't take
it.

Not yet. Another minute and her body would
accept him fully. It would relax and soften to him. It would submit
and give him everything he needed.

His legs trembled as he stood still. Her body
quivered but slowly it relaxed. Her breath changed from frantic to
the pants of desire. She began to squirm her ass against him,
looking for more sensation.

He granted her request.

Slowly he drew out, testing her. Then he sank
back in. A little further this time, a little more the next. She
yielded to him a little more with every movement, every stroke.

She sighed, deep and long, as he pulled from
her completely and sank back in again.

Her legs began to shake, and he wrapped his
hands around her hips bearing her weight up with his hands.

His flesh slapped against hers. The springs
of the bed groaned and creaked beneath them. Her moans had
diminished to nothing more than breathy sighs as pleasure overtook
thought.

She was part of him now. In this moment she
was his. There were no defenses, no guards. Just sensation.
Pleasure, and pain and desire. He gave everything he had to her. He
held on, letting her feel everything that her body could bear.
Pressing her past her limits. And she was strong enough to want it.
To take it. To take him.

The friction between them became unbearable.
He had no idea how long he was there, sawing in and out of her
body, but eventually the pleasure grew too keen. Need overwhelmed
him.

He came, grasping onto her and growling until
his body collapsed on top of hers. Again and again he shot his cum
inside her, primitively marking her as his and his alone.

He waited until the last of the shocks of
pleasure had subsided. He gathered her soft and sated body up in
his arms. Only then did he pull the blankets around them. After a
few minutes her breath slowed and calmed. Her heartbeat slowed. She
was his.

He was hers.

He lay there in her bed, knowing that he
could go, that there was no force in the world that could stop him.
There were no chains around him, no reinforced steel doors or
five-inch thick slabs of concrete holding him back. But he didn't
want to.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Grant’s deep
voice greeted Sarah as she opened her eyes. It was a sound that she
was pretty sure that she could get used to. “Do you always sleep
this late?”

She rolled over in her bed to look at the
clock. It was only five past seven. “Yeah, I’m a real
slug-a-bed.”

Grant held out a mug of steaming coffee.
Well, that was worth getting up for. Sarah sat up and accepted her
reward.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Grant said. “Though it did
take me a while to figure out how to work that ancient coffee
maker. Does your father ever throw anything away?”

“Not really. He passed that on to me, I’m
afraid. I’m determined to make things work,” she said, her words
full of meaning.

Grant grinned. “You still believe that we can
make this thing work between us.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think that a relationship would be
too risky?”

“Every relationship is risky,” Sarah said
with a laugh. “Let me fill you in on how things usually go for
those of us not haunted by voodoo curses. It’s not all sunshine and
rainbows. Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes we find a way to
work it out and sometimes we don’t. We get hurt. We love too hard
and we get our hearts broken. But every now and again something
comes along that’s worth fighting for.”

“And you think we are worth fighting
for?”

“I do.” She nodded. A little glimmer hope
burst to life inside her.

He took another sip of coffee.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I like you Grant. All of you.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“Just that we treat each other like adults.
No secrets. No lies. If something is bothering us, we deal with it.
We don’t let it simmer under the surface. We have to be honest with
each other, no matter what. I can’t see this working any other
way.”

“Sounds fair.” Grant nodded. “And what about
after your father comes back from vacation?”

“I live less than three hours away. I know
it’s not ideal, but we can make it work.”

“So you’re not going to take over your dad’s
practice?” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, enough
to give her hope.

Sarah shrugged. She threw back the covers and
stood. “Maybe. Probably. I’ve really enjoyed being back here. But I
have another year before I have to decide. That gives us plenty of
time for us to take things slow and see how things work out.”

“I like slow,” he said and fixed her with a
sexy stare. “Well, sometimes I do.”

“Good.” Sarah found her silk robe and wrapped
it around her. “Then I’ll take my time making breakfast this
morning.”

“You’re going to cook for a change?” He
sounded surprised. “I won’t fight you on that.”

“Well, there’s a first time for
everything.”

Keep reading for excerpts from
more stories by Rebecca Lyndon, Delilah Clare and Lisa
Alder
.