Page 34 of The Good Girl Effect (Salacious Legacy #1)

Camille

I don’t know if I should be on my knees or not. Part of me wants to, knowing that that’s how he might want me. But then another part wants to watch him walk through that door. I want to be standing, watching his expression as we face each other for the first time since last night.

Pacing the room in my robe, I wait for the sound of the door, reliving every moment of last night in my head for the thousandth time today. I’ve read his letter enough to have it memorized.

It feels daunting—to have my heart growing so attached to him but knowing that it can never be anything more than physical. It’s still so early. Too early to make commitments and change the dynamic of our relationship.

If I tell Jack how I feel and he feels the same, what happens to poor little Bea if things don’t work out?

If I tell Jack how I feel and he doesn’t feel the same, could I still work for him?

We are already pushing the boundaries and playing with fire. But if we can promise to keep things like this and have fun in our free time, then we might actually be able to make this work.

Suddenly, the door opens downstairs, and I freeze. Standing in the middle of the room, I watch the door, listening as he crosses the living room and climbs the stairs.

When he appears a moment later, we both stare at each other. I’m dying to know if he still wants me here. Has he changed his mind? Maybe work was too stressful, and he doesn’t want me tonight.

In a rush, he marches into the room and pulls me into his arms. Kissing me fiercely, he moans into my mouth, and I melt into his embrace.

My arms wind around his neck as I let him practically lift me from the floor. His kiss is ravenous, sucking and nibbling on my lips. He buries one hand in my hair and wraps the other around my waist.

I am flooded with heat and desire, and when his right hand sinks lower, gathering up the bottom of my robe and running his hand over my bare ass, I whimper into his mouth.

I can tell his fingers are searching for the fabric of my panties, and when he finds none, he groans again. Pulling away, he tugs off the belt, and the robe drifts open, revealing my naked body.

With a pained expression, he dives back in for another kiss.

“Why are you so perfect?” he mumbles against my lips.

I want to tell him I’m not perfect. Far from it. But I love that he sees me that way. I just dread the day when he realizes that I come with flaws like everyone else.

His hard length grinds against me, and just the reminder of what he’s hiding behind those slacks has me growing wet between my thighs.

“I don’t know if I have the strength to be patient with you tonight,” he says as he backs me up to the upholstered bench.

“You can have me however you want,” I reply.

Just when I think he’s going to give in and skip the bondage in favor of just having sex instead, he holds me by the hips and pushes me gently away. My lips miss his immediately.

“No, I need to do this right. You came up here for a session, and I’m going to give you a session.”

With a tilt of my head, I smirk at him as I clarify, “I didn’t come up here just for a session.”

He laughs a little, and it makes me realize how much I love his smile. I don’t get to see it often enough.

“Little bird, we have opened things up to a whole new world of possibilities now, and I intend to have some fun with you.”

Biting my lip, I grin at him. “I like the sound of that.” Then I drop my robe so I’m standing naked in front of him.

He takes a deep breath, obviously struggling to restrain himself. “Come here.” Grabbing me by the hand, he tugs me toward him, but before I can kiss him, he spins me around and gathers my hair into his hands.

As he braids it down my back, I close my eyes in anticipation of how it will feel to have him bind me tonight.

Once he’s done, he ties the end with a black ribbon from the wardrobe.

But before moving away, he brushes my braid over my shoulder and leans in to press his lips gently against the back of my neck. It sends shivers down my spine.

Everything with Jack feels brand new.

After my hair is braided, he starts to pull out the ropes and blindfold from the wardrobe. I’m surprisingly excited to see the blindfold again. I miss how much it heightened my senses and made everything feel so much more intense.

“Have a seat on the bench,” he says, and I do.

Sitting on the center, I wait for him. I'm more excited to be in this room than I've ever been—more, even, than the first time.

First, he drapes the blindfold over my eyes, and I love the way it feels as the anticipation and relaxation wash over me. Before moving away, he whispers, “You know the rules. Tell me if anything hurts, and just say stop if you need a break.”

I nod without responding, just like I used to.

A moment later, his lips press against mine.

Then he turns me lengthwise over the bench, guides me to my back, and lifts my feet onto the surface.

I hear him kneeling in front of me, and I savor the silence between us.

It’s comfortable like it always is. As he starts to bind my ankles together, I try to discern which technique he’s using.

A basic double column, I assume. I try to guess where he’s going with each tie he finishes, deciding if it will be a frog tie or a futomomo—all things I’ve learned in my spare time research on top of what we do in here.

I’m not interested in doing any of the bondage myself.

I am a rope bunny, through and through. But I do love knowing more about it—my new obsession.

Jack isn’t binding my ankle to my thigh tonight. Instead, he starts on my wrists next, doing another simple double column.

The feeling of familiar peace settles in, and I honestly wonder if he knows how much I love this. Trusting him so much. Wanting him to have complete control over me. Knowing that I’m always safe with him.

After my wrists are bound, Jack brings my knees to my chest. With the sensation of vulnerability and exposure, there’s a pulse in my core, knowing exactly what awaits me once he has me fully bound.

He wraps my bound arms around my legs so I’m tied into a ball. “How do you feel?” he asks.

“Good,” I reply, although my voice is a bit shaky.

He continues tying, doing what I assume is a quick-release knot around my legs and arms, restricting my movement even more.

“Deep breath,” he says, and I pull air in slowly to my lungs. He does this to check that it’s not too tight and that I can still breathe freely.

Once he’s done, he steps away, and I lie frozen on the bench. The room feels cool on my skin, especially the exposed parts between my legs.

“Look at you,” he mutters darkly. “Completely at my mercy now, aren’t you?”

Arousal blooms in my belly when I hear the sound of him removing his clothes.

“Do you like it, little bird? Being bound like this for me?”

I nod.

The sound of his pants hitting the floor across the room echoes against the walls, and I let out a small gasp. When he touches me, I try to lean into it, but I can’t move. He starts at my shoulder, running his fingers softly over my arm and then down my folded legs.

I feel his eyes on me, like warm rays of sunlight. Then his fingers slide through my folds, finding the pooling moisture there, and I mewl with need.

“So wet for me already,” he breathes, and I fidget against the ropes. I need him—his touch, his body, his cock.

“Please,” I whine.

Of course, he doesn’t give me what I want. Instead, he slides a finger inside me, and I have to muffle my own cries by biting my lip.

“Is this what you want?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“What do you want, little bird?”

He’s teasing me, and I’m afraid that if I tell him what I want, he won’t give it to me. It has to be what he wants.

“Go ahead,” he says, thrusting harder. It feels so good and so dirty, but I need more.

“Please fuck me,” I mumble quietly.

“You think you’ve earned that?” he replies.

I nod eagerly.

When he pulls his finger out, I hear him spit. The warm saliva drips through my folds and down to my ass. I have never felt so depraved and sexy at the same time. I try squirming again, but I can barely budge in these restraints.

It’s a feeling of surrender, and I know that if I didn’t trust Jack so much, it would be harrowing and frightening. Instead, I am so aroused because I want him to use my body without my control. I get as much pleasure out of his pleasure as he does.

With the feel of his cock against my core, I hold my breath. He enters me slowly, and I let out a long, needy moan.

“Is that what you wanted, little bird?” His voice is strained, as if he’s so overcome with the sensation that he can hardly speak.

“Yes,” I cry out.

“God, I wanted it too,” he says as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in. “I thought about being inside you all day. I couldn’t wait to get home and fuck you again.”

He starts to pick up his speed, but the position is awkward, and I can tell he’s not getting in as deep as he wants. He pulls a few ropes, and they start to slacken so I can straighten my legs. With my ankles still bound together, he lifts my legs and puts them over one shoulder.

Jerking me to the edge of the bench, he pounds into me so hard that I nearly scream. My back arches, and my head grinds into the upholstery as I struggle to move. It’s so intense and so exquisite, and the restraints just make everything better.

Even though I’m no longer tied up in the fetal position, my wrists and ankles are still cinched together, restricting my movement, so I couldn’t get away if I tried.

Not that I want to.

But him taking that away only heightens my arousal in ways I can’t believe.

“You better be quiet, or I’ll gag you,” he says as he pistons his hips. His cock hits a spot inside me that creates a wild ache of pleasure, driving me wild.

I hold my tied wrists over my face as he fucks me, moving faster and harder until I can barely breathe. He’s using my body like it’s a toy, and I can’t believe how much I love it.

“Look what you do to me,” he growls. “This is what you’ve turned me into.”

He pulls his cock out and takes a few long, heavy breaths as if to keep from coming. Then he turns me onto my side and enters me again.

The new position feels less intense but just as good. I swear I could let him fuck me forever, in every position, at every angle. I could never tire of this. Being with him is more natural than being without him.

But he’s only here for a moment before I’m being flipped again, this time onto my knees. With my face pressed into the upholstery and my hands below me, he enters me again.

This position gives him more leverage to pound harder and faster into me. I’ve never loved rough sex before, but it was never like this. The cushion muffles my cries as he brings me to the brink of ecstasy, and before I know it, I’m shuddering and moaning through an intense and unfamiliar orgasm.

I’ve never come like this before without even touching my clit. But it’s the angle of his cock and the restraints and the sounds he’s making that seem to make a perfect combination to turn my body inside out.

My spine arches as my muscles seize. As the pleasure assaults me, I shut my eyes and see stars swimming in my vision. And I’m so overcome by my own orgasm that I don’t even feel Jack pull out and release onto my back again.

When I come to, he’s slumped over me, trying to catch his breath too.

“Fuck,” he groans.

Turning my head to suck in a lungful of air, I wait for the tingling sensation all over my body to subside.

Before I know it, he’s cleaning my back, then lifting me into his arms. Cradling me in his arms, he pulls the blindfold from my face, and I blink up at him in a pleasure-filled daze.

The dim room blurs as I nuzzle into his side, his warm lips against my temple.

After setting me on the bench sitting upright, he gets to work on my ropes.

Sweat-soaked and wrung-out, my hair is a disaster as I stare down at him on his knees, untying my ankles. When he’s done, he kisses the marks the ropes left, and my heart lurches with love.

This is going to be impossible, because if he doesn’t want me to fall in love with him, then he should try not to be so perfect all the time.