Free Bound to be Dirty by Savanna Fox Page A

down. “Too much? Say the word and I’ll stop.”
    He would. She believed him.
    She might be tied to the bed, but she could control this strong, aroused man with a single word. Knowing that, she realized she didn’t want to stop him. She wanted her husband inside her.
    For the first time tonight she saw, simply, the man she’d fallen in love with and married. Her doubts about their marriage, her fear that he’d been unfaithful, her confusion over his odd behavior and her strange response—they all dropped away. She smiled at him.
    His intense expression lightened and warmed. “Lily.”
    To her surprise, he untied the knots securing her feet to the bedposts, and then did the same with her hands. As she shook out her legs and arms, easing the strain from being bound, he turned off the lamp on the dresser and the room went dark.
    A moment later, he was on the bed again, between her legs. Enjoying her newfound freedom of movement, she bent her knees, the insides of her legs brushing the outsides of his.
    He slid a pillow under her, relieving a slight ache in her lower back, and then his fingers stroked between her legs. The head of his cock nudged her, but this time, rather than plunge inside, he eased in slowly.
    Slick and sensitive, she clung to him and pulsed around him, welcoming him, wanting all he could give her.
    Once he was fully seated, he leaned forward, his firm chest brushing her taut nipples. Resting one arm on the bed beside her shoulder to take his weight, he touched her face gently, smoothing damp, messy hair back from her flushed skin. His fingers bore the musky scent of sex.
    After being restrained, it felt odd to lift her arms and curl them around his broad shoulders. So familiar, this male body. So wonderful. If only she knew the man inside half as well.
    Was she allowed to speak now? It didn’t matter. She had no idea what to say. Words would only complicate things.
    He didn’t speak either. His cock was embedded deep in her channel, but he didn’t thrust. Instead, his lips brushed hers.
    She’d always loved kissing Dax. Now she kissed him back lazily, too worn out to be energetic. He’d never had a beard before, and she enjoyed the brush of springy curls against her chin.
    His lips caressed hers, his tongue teased their fullness, and then, after long minutes, he dipped inside.
    Her tongue met his, and only then did his hips pump. He thrust in and out in the tiniest movements. His penis was so swollen that it filled her completely, and each thrust created a delicious warm burn.
    Normally, she’d have wrapped her legs around him, taking him even deeper and speeding things up, but her leg muscles trembled and she couldn’t even keep her knees raised. Slowly, her legs collapsed down on the bed.
    Dax tugged the pillow out. His thrusts quickened, lengthened.
    Even though Lily was no longer tied up, the exhaustion in her muscles kept her from moving much.
    But she didn’t need to. Dax slowly, gently, but relentlessly drove her toward climax. A tight, trembling coil of arousal built, deep in her core.
    His back was so hot, rigid with tensile strength under her hands. How familiar it was to hold him like this as their bodies moved together. It was like the old days, when their love had been strong and sure.
    He’d stopped kissing her and his breath came in rasping pants. He reached down between their bodies, as he always did when he was close to climax and wanted to ensure she came with him.
    Her clit was so sensitive that, at the first brush of his fingers, she gave a soft gasp of pain.
    With a barely there touch, he spread the moisture of her arousal on her clit, circling that achy bud, making her whimper with pleasure.
    He pumped faster, his caution and control vanishing as he thrust vigorously, driving into her core.
    And now, exhausted or not, she had to move, to cling and meet his thrusts.
    He yelled, “Fuck, Lily,” and exploded in a