Sophie Oak: Bound

Beck frowned. It did nothing to mar the perfection of his face. “Are you cruel, then, love? Funny, I wouldn’t have thought that of you. It’s mean to point out their flaws. They can’t help that they don’t get enough to eat. Why do you think they’re here selling themselves?”

“You don’t want her, Your Highness,” a soft voice said. Meg looked over to see the blonde nearest her staring at Beck. “She is vicious. She yells at the little ones and is cruel to them. You cannot mean to make her yours. I would be thrilled to belong to you.”

Meg rolled her eyes, the gesture obviously not lost on Beck. He shook his head and looked slightly disappointed in her. Meg was surprised to discover she didn’t like him looking at her that way.

He walked over to the young, waifish blonde. “She is not from this plane. She is frightened. Allowances must be made. I hope you all find kind mates today. I hope your masters value you all for the precious gift you give them, but I must find a bondmate.”

Beck gave Rhys a hand gesture that sent the smaller man into action. Within seconds, drapes were drawn, and Meg found herself in a private room with only Beck inside. The sunlight poured in through a hole in the top of the elaborate tent that seemed to function as some sort of skylight. Now that they were alone, it felt like a spotlight. She was painfully aware of her unclothed state. She could feel her nipples puckering under his steely gaze.

“It is not kind to flaunt your beauty to less fortunate women. I will not allow you to be cruel.” Beck’s voice was deep and allowed no room for disrespect. Meg found herself rushing to explain.

“I don’t understand.” She was frustrated and could hear it in her tone. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I wanted you to buy one of the others. I’ve decided you might be very difficult to get away from. I thought you would do it because they’re prettier than me.”

Beck’s handsome face bunched up as he seemed to mull her words. “On what plane are they prettier than you?” He laughed. “Sorry, love, I do remember hearing stories of where you come from. Food there is plentiful, yet the women starve because the men won’t take care of them.”

“It’s not like that,” Meg argued. “That girl you talked to, she would be considered a great beauty on my plane.”

“But I would have to feed her for a month before I’d even consider bedding her,” Beck muttered. “I don’t understand humans. Do human males not like breasts?”

He asked that last bit with a distinct huskiness to his voice. His hand came out, and he palmed one breast, his thumb rasping over the nipple.

Meg felt the caress shoot from her breast to her pussy like lightning. “Oh, please, don’t.”

Beck moved in, his big body crowding her as his other hand reached up. The sunlight hit his face. His gray eyes were heating up, and he ran his tongue over his lips to wet them. He seemed to be a man about to enjoy a good meal. He caressed both breasts with a languid sigh.

He breathed deeply, his nose at the top of her head. “And why not? How will I know if we’re compatible if I don’t touch you, love? If I’m going to pay this much for a female, then I want to be very sure I’m getting what we need.”

Meg didn’t even think about the “we” part of that sentence because Beck’s warm hands were trailing a path across her skin as he looked her over. His fingertips brushed her nipples just before closing over them. He pinched the nubs. It was just the right side of pain. Her nipples peaked, sensitized to his touch. Meg knew she should protest, but it had been so long since anyone had touched her. She’d been so lonely.

When he was satisfied with her breasts, he moved around to her exposed back. He traced the length of her spine with a single finger. Meg shuddered with desire under his touch as his finger lightly delved into the valley of her cheeks.

His mouth was bare centimeters from her ear. “You’re gorgeous, love. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I saw a woman as fuckable as you? And, love, as to your earlier statement about being worried I might be hard to get away from, I promise you, you won’t get away from me. Not ever.”

“Please,” Meg begged as her entire body went hot with wanting. She couldn’t let this man seduce her. She had a life back home. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. She couldn’t let herself be sold at some marketplace to the highest bidder. “I want to go home.”

She struggled to get enough oxygen. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection gently brushing her backside. She forced down the impulse to beg him to use it on her. She’d never wanted a man’s touch so much in her life.

Then he was gone, and Meg wanted to cry at the absence of his warmth. He walked back around to her front. He seemed satisfied he had seen what he needed. Beck’s gray eyes were kind as he looked down on her. His sensual lips were close, so close she could feel the heat coming off his body. His face was barely an inch from hers. He kissed her forehead gently.

“Sorry, love. I’m your home now.” He leaned over, and his mouth covered hers.

All thoughts fled. Meg could do nothing but concentrate on his lips and the feel of his hands. When his tongue reached out, she found herself softening under his dominance and letting it inside her mouth. His hands tightened and wound around her waist. She felt so delicate against him, a sensation she had never had before. With previous lovers, and there hadn’t been many, she had always felt ungainly and awkward. She never knew what to do to please them. She was far too shy to ask them for what she wanted. The result had been a short series of disappointing encounters. Her own husband had left her, telling her she didn’t know how to please a man.

But she could feel Beck’s desire. He wasn’t playing a game. He took what he wanted, and it did something for Meg. She’d read about Dominance and submission and the fine art of BDSM, but putting the theory to the test was something different. The chains suddenly felt sensual rather than menacing. They held her for his pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful.” Beck sighed in her ear when he broke the kiss, moving to press his lips to her neck. His hands traced a path from her waist to the cheeks of her ass. He pressed his body against her. “I have to know for sure, though. Please understand, I have to know…”

His fingers found her clitoris and began rubbing sweet, firm circles.

“No,” Meg panted, everything in her responding to this man. This was insane. She was not going to stand here and let this man take her. Her mind said no, but her body and soul were not in alignment with the thinking pattern. Her pussy was wet and pulsing for him. She pushed against his hand. Oh, she wanted this. Why did she have to want this? “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, I won’t stop.” Beck groaned between his clenched teeth. “Come for me, a stoirin .”

Meg didn’t understand what he said, but she felt the intent behind the endearment. She moaned and stopped fighting him. Fighting hadn’t gotten her a thing so far. Maybe, just maybe, she could find another way out, but for now, she wanted what he was offering. His hands felt so perfect on her body. Never before had anyone played her like a finely tuned instrument, but Beck was her musician.

He gently forced two fingers high into her cunt, keeping the pressure on her clit with his thumb. An amazing sensation swept through her as he fucked her with his fingers. In and out. In and out. It was better than any previous cock she’d had. Something was happening. Some odd and yet familiar connection seemed to open between them, but before she could process it, her body fell over the precipice, and she couldn’t think any more. Meg came, sobbing against his shoulder. The orgasm strummed neatly through her body, making her languid and submissive.