Shanna Germain - Leather Bound

‘Keyholes are the occasions of more sin and wickedness, than all other holes in this world put together.’

Laurence Sterne

Table of Contents

Title Page Leather Bound Shanna Germain

Epigraph ‘Keyholes are the occasions of more sin and wickedness, than all other holes in this world put together.’ Laurence Sterne

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

Epilogue

More from Mischief

About Mischief

Copyright

About the Publisher

Gorgeous green eyes. Blond curls. A perfectly trimmed golden goatee that highlighted a square jaw and delicious cheekbones. Thick, full lips just right for kissing.

It was the kind of face a girl could fall in love with.

Every girl but me, that is.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I had the lust part down. Kyle’s face was so perfectly made, so sexy, that even when he was asleep, eyes closed tight to the world, just looking at him sent little flutters of want through me. And that was with most of his long, lean body hidden away beneath the covers. Sometimes I wanted Kyle with a fierceness that made me ache, even when he wasn’t in the room.

Lust? Yes. But love? No.

We’d been having sex for about six months and our relationship was fun, hot and absolutely casual. Just like we wanted it. Which is why I found it weird that he was now asleep in my bed, conked out with my arm trapped beneath his head. In six months’ worth of delicious sex, this was the first time we’d actually slept together.

While it was weird, I wasn’t sure I minded all that much. We’d had a nice night –dinner on the back porch followed by giggling, groping, delicious sex on the living-room floor – despite the fact that Kyle had seemed preoccupied by something. He wasn’t the kind of guy to keep things in, but he also wasn’t the kind of guy to stay over. I wasn’t sure what it all meant, but I figured he’d tell me when he was ready.

In the meantime, I needed a shower, something functional to wear to work and at least two cups of coffee. I’d let him find his way out of the apartment whenever he woke. He worked as a tat artist, which meant a lot of late nights inking customers. Something told me that mornings weren’t his speciality.

I tugged my arm quietly out from under Kyle’s head, trying not to wake him. He shifted, but didn’t open his eyes.

Showering as quick as my own sleep-slowed body would let me, I padded back to the bedroom in my bare feet and opened drawers in the half-dark, trying to be as quiet as I could. Unfortunately, I’m a klutz in general and even more so before I’ve had my coffee. When I slid the closet open, it bumped against something with a bang. Kyle made a cute dreaming noise, and I stopped to look down at him half-buried under the covers. All I could see were strands of his dark-blond hair and one hand thrown over his face. He stirred, opening one green eye blearily. Even half-asleep and in the dim light of the bedroom, he was so very fuckable. It nearly made my mouth water.

‘Mmm, you left me,’ he said.

‘I have to go to work,’ I said. Unable to resist, I reached out to touch the soft curls that fell across his cheek.

‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Come back. We have warmth. And cock.’

‘Cock, huh?’ I was tempted. I was always tempted around him.

The bedside clock told me I wasn’t late for work. Yet. I needed to open the bookstore, but since we showed up early to prep things, a few minutes wouldn’t make too much of a difference.

‘How much can you do in fifteen minutes?’ I asked.

‘I only need eleven to really blow your mind.’ He was all grin and dancing eyes from his cocoon beneath the covers.

‘Really? Eleven?’ I said. ‘I think I’m disappointed.’

‘Get in here,’ Kyle said, clearly more awake now, lifting the blankets to beckon me in.

I slid in beside him, scooting myself beneath the covers. He really was warm, his lean frame radiating heat. He ran a couple of times a week and his long muscles flexed beneath his skin as I settled against him. Running my hands over his body was a visceral pleasure. It was easy to get lost in the feel of him.

He touched his mouth to mine, sleep-soft lips parting with a quiet laugh. His morning stubble scratched my cheeks. He smelled like sweet chai, cloves and cinnamon, and I inhaled him deeply, lost for a moment in the sensations of touch and scent.

‘I brought you a gift,’ he said, whispering against my mouth, his hips moving forward to grind slowly against me. His bare cock nudged my thighs.

‘Mmm … what is it?’ I couldn’t help but giggle. He was always saying dorky but adorable things in bed.

‘You’ll have to see,’ he said.

‘A gift, huh,’ I teased. ‘Did you wrap it?’

‘Not yet. It’s like a reverse gift. First you get it, then you wrap it.’

‘Funny man,’ I said as I reached between us to stroke him. ‘Oh, you did sleep well. That’s some lovely morning wood.’

I loved the way he curved upward slightly when he was fully hard, how he pulsed lightly against my palm. He had a beautiful cock, a smooth length that bowed into an impossibly soft head.

‘Maybe I should stay over more often,’ he said.

I only hesitated a second before he gave a teasing nip at my ear. ‘Maybe you should,’ I said. ‘Especially if it means I get to do this before coffee…’

I was still speaking when he slipped a hand between my legs, parting them with the spread of his fingers. With a firming touch, he stroked me, wrapping his fingers lightly to tug at my dark curls. I felt myself open under his touch, already growing wet. It never took much around Kyle.

Kyle leaned in to kiss my neck, letting his mouth linger in the hollows, his tongue moving in time to his fingers. I couldn’t help but buck my hips up toward his fingers. His touch was too soft. I wanted, needed more.

‘It’s almost like you want me or something,’ he said, teasing with his tone as much as with his fingers.

‘Kyle…’

Still he teased with soft strokes, refusing to give in to my low whimpers of want.

‘Cruel,’ I said. My voice stuttered with the sweet pleasures of his touch. ‘So cruel.’

His grin was sharply wicked. His touch even more so, as he brought his hand back and then thrust forward, two fingers sliding deep inside me. I brought my hips up into the movement, letting my body welcome him. He curled his fingers against my g-spot, tugging forward until I felt small bursts of pleasure coil up through me.

So close. I loved that sweet moment when you can feel orgasm just over the horizon, can see it from the corner of your eye but can’t quite reach it.

‘More?’ he asked.

‘More, please,’ I said.

He pulled away again, a gesture that left me emptied of pleasure and breath. With another thrust, he entered me again, more fingers, stretching me wider. I bucked against him, taking the lead to angle myself where his touch gave me the most pleasure.

His mouth found my nipple, tongue looping it lightly before he closed his lips to tug against the sensitive skin. I loved having my nipples sucked – sometimes I thought I could get off on that alone – and I arched into the pull of his mouth. He took more of me in, the pressure and release matching the movement of his fingers inside me. I groaned softly, unable to resist making the noises my body wanted me to make.