Tied Up: Bondage in Boston, #2

By Sionna Fox

Old habits and loves die hard…

When Kate left Boston a year ago for a coveted spot on a research team across the country, she thought she had severed her ties to Boston--and to Ian--for good. But when she returns to finish her dissertation and make a fresh start, she finds the cool, in control silver fox she thought she knew has been replaced by a different man--one she might want to get to know.

Ian's carefully ordered life has been in turmoil since the day Kate walked out the door for what should have been the last time. But now that she's back, he'll risk anything, and change everything, for a chance to try again.

But while their chemistry in the bedroom has never been better, Kate fears the mountain of unresolved baggage between will come crashing down and destroy their second chance once and for all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sionna Fox
• Release date: Oct 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386214519

Sionna Fox

Sionna Fox wrote her first book as soon as she could hold a pen. It was about dinosaurs, and according to her mother, was adorable. She was late to romance, but hasn’t looked back since picking up the habit and believes romance novels can save your life. She lives in New England with her very patient husband and very put-upon dog.

Book preview

Prologue

Kate knelt. Heels neatly tucked into the crease where ass met thigh, back straight, eyes down. She clutched her collar in her upturned hands.

Please, Sir.

He would make her wait. Always. No matter that this was the last night she would ever spend with him. She was leaving tomorrow. She had to, she’d said. It was for the best. It was a long time coming. Still she needed this. Needed him and what he could do. One more time.

Oh, I think you’ve lost the right to call me Sir, don’t you, kitten? The words stung.

Kate was disowning herself, but she couldn’t bear the thought of using his given name. Not now. Not yet. Not like this. Please. She took a deep breath. I need you.

He was tall and a bit wiry, looming over her in the semi-darkness of the bedroom that had always been his, no matter how many years she’d shared his bed. She closed her eyes and waited, mentally cataloging images of this room. There was no special furniture. Nothing that would give away its owner’s sexual proclivities was anywhere in view—only a sturdy, four-poster bed with a few well-placed and hidden D-rings; a padded, velvet-covered storage bench; and a particularly soft and plush rug covering the blond hardwood floors. There was not an inch of the room her naked skin had not touched. She had been fucked against every wall, sent to every corner, crawled over every bit of rug and floor, been bound to the bench and each post. She had been owned, collared, and mastered in this room.

You don’t need me, kitten. Not anymore. His voice was softer, sadder, as he knelt beside her and stroked her cheek.

Kate leaned into the touch, desperate in spite of herself for whatever glimpse of warmth and affection he would offer. I do. Please. I’m begging you. Her voice wobbled. There would be no more of this after tonight. She was leaving, starting over. Without him. Please, Sir. Please.

A tear spilled down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb. Had he ever been so gentle with her? He rested his large, warm hand on the back of her neck; with the other, he plucked the simple, black leather collar from her hands and set it on the floor next to her.

No more collar, Kate. You’re not mine anymore, he whispered.

Kate shuddered as tears raced down her pale, freckled cheeks and dripped from her jaw onto the small swell of her naked breasts. It had been so long since she’d been in love with him; why was leaving him so hard? He pulled her into his arms and stroked her from the crown of her head to the base of her spine while she cried. Over and over, his hands passed across her skin, gentling and soothing her until she stopped sobbing and went limp in his arms. He leaned back against the bench, pushed her to her knees, wiped the last of the tears from her face, and settled her across his lap.

He breathed deeply and let it out with a resigned sigh. One more time, kitten. Pick a number between one and five.

Kate sniffled and turned her head to smile weakly up at him. Their old, familiar games were already being rewritten by nostalgia. She wiggled her butt and, sticking to the script, chose. Five, Sir.

Thank you, kitten. He rained five hard smacks across her ass cheeks, holding nothing back. She flinched and moaned as the stinging heat spread to her clit and made her pussy grasp at nothing. She never could hold still for a hand spanking.

Settle down. He rubbed her bottom before he turned her over, held her cradled on his lap, and slipped two sure fingers along her slit, teasing at her entrance. You need this, don’t you, kitten?

Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. She gasped as he pressed his fingers into her, stretched her, stroked her. She wriggled and pushed against him as he pressed his thumb to her clit. She writhed under the touch that knew her so well, that could get her so close, so quickly.

He leaned forward and whispered, Come for me, kitten. Come for me now, while he pressed her clit to her pubic bone in tight, hard circles.

She was lost. Her body tensed, rippled, and relaxed as the orgasm rolled through her. He kept stroking her gently as she came down, then rolled her off his lap, dumping her limp body onto the floor.

That was one. Stand up.

Kate scrambled to her feet, rubber-limbed and a little breathless. He grasped her roughly by the shoulders, spun her, and bent her over the bed. If that was one, there were four more coming. Anticipation fluttered in her belly, restoking the heat at her core, as she heard the bench open and close. A strong hand grabbed a fistful of her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled, bowing her back, pressing her breasts into the mattress and forcing her ass in the air.

He let go of her hair. Keep that ass up.

Soft tails draped over her shoulders and traced her spine to the deep arch in her back and over the full curve of her ass. Kate smiled to herself. A suede flogger; he was taking this nice and easy, then. She understood what she was in for now. He was giving her their greatest hits to send her on her way.

The first blow landed across her cheeks, with the barest hint of a sting. Kate sighed and stretched into the impact. The second was harder, and the third, and the ones that followed. The room filled with the solid smacking sound of soft leather on flesh, the moans and gasps and little cries that she never could hold in. For five minutes or five hours, he worked her over. The smack and thud and the subtle sting of it warmed her skin and sent concentrated heat swarming deep in her belly. She rose up on her toes to meet the kiss of the falls as they met her bare and willing flesh. She felt his hand cup her pussy, his fingers part her wet folds and expose the aching, needy center of her to his view.

You like being flogged, kitten?

Yes, Sir, she breathed.

His fingertips traced her lips, not delving inside, skirted her throbbing clit, drove her halfway to madness. He dropped the flogger next to her face and pressed one hand to the small of her back as he pushed three fingers inside her. She clenched around him and pushed back, tried to take his fingers as deeply as they would go.

He pulled his fingers from her and settled them around her clit, slippery with her own wetness. You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you, kitten?

Yes, Sir. I know, Sir. Her fists clenched and bunched the quilt under her as she fought against the overwhelming urge to come. But she didn’t want punishment tonight. Only pleasure.

Do you need to come, kitten?

Yes, Sir. Please, Sir, she cried, begging for her release, barely holding on as his fingers tightened around her clit. She would not come without permission.

You know I can’t resist when you beg. You can come now, kitten.

He pinched and rolled her clitoris between his fingertips, and Kate managed to gasp, Thank you, Sir, before she lost control. She screamed into the mattress as her climax peaked and barreled through her body. He took his hands from her pussy and leaned over her, covering her naked back with his chest, still dressed in a finely woven dress shirt and wool trousers. The warmth of his body seeped into her, and the distinct bulge of his cock pressed against her ass.

Good girl. That was two. Stand up.

Kate wobbled to her feet. She had always picked five when they played this game, but the way he was playing it tonight—letting her come every time—almost made her regret it. They’d found her tipping point between pleasure and anguish before, but maybe that was the idea. Maybe he wanted her to shake and cry, pushed to her limits. A single word could end it all; but she couldn’t stomach ending their last night together with her safeword. If she could catch her breath for a minute, she would be fine.

While Kate was lost in her slightly addled brain, he’d retrieved leather cuffs for her wrists and thighs. He wrapped them snugly around her limbs and ordered her facedown on the bench. Kate was grateful to lie down again while he fixed her to the thick wooden legs.

Where are you, kitten? He brushed her hair from her face gently.

Yellow, Sir. Just for a minute, Sir.

Of course, kitten. Thank you.

He knelt on the floor next to her and stroked her hair as her ragged breath calmed and her heart rate slowed. Kate kept her eyes firmly closed. She didn’t want to see the affection in his deep blue eyes, the tenderness etched into the sharp features of his face. She didn’t want to know how much he could still treasure her when they were like this. That he didn’t want her to leave.

Before the sadness could swamp her again, Kate opened her eyes, smiled her wickedest smile, and whispered, Green, Sir.

Good girl. Thank you. He kissed his favorite constellation of freckles on her shoulder and got to his feet.

She heard his belt buckle and the hiss of the leather as he pulled it free from his pants. She arched her back and wiggled her butt at one of her favorite sounds in the world.

Settle down, kitten, he said, the sharp reprimand softened slightly by amusement.

The belt snapped as he doubled it over, and her whole body tensed. The sounds, the anticipation—it was all part of the game, and she loved it, every minute of it.

He didn’t make her wait long before the first strike landed across her shoulder, right over the freckles he had just kissed, like a good, clean punch that left behind a sting. He worked her shoulders and carefully down her back, not quite hard enough to really hurt, but enough to rekindle and stoke her desire. Wetness trickled down the insides of her spread legs as he began to strike her cheeks and her thighs, rewarming her tender flesh. She was dizzy with want, her body tensing and clutching against nothing. The pain had long since melted into pleasure, and the barest effort would send her over the edge again.

Close, Sir.

Three soft thuds sounded behind her: the belt and his knees. He roughly grabbed her to spread her open and plunged his tongue inside her. She cried out with his sudden invasion. He pulled his tongue from within her and lapped at every centimeter of her labia, pinned wide by his thumbs, as though he wanted to lick her clean of every drop.

She writhed against her bonds; trying to get closer or trying to escape, she couldn’t say. She begged. She pleaded. She whimpered and cried and screamed and cried some more, and only when he had rendered her wordless did he whisper, You can come now, kitten, as he sucked her clit between his teeth. She came like it was the last orgasm she would ever have. She didn’t even notice when he took his mouth from her and released her from the cuffs.

She surfaced when he spoke, laughing under his breath. That was three. Stand up.

She stood, barely aware that she did so. On unsteady feet she waited, back straight, eyes down, her posture as automatic as following his order. She floated somewhere on the edges of her consciousness, waiting.

He paced around her, running his fingers all over her skin. He traced her collarbone, her shoulder blades, the column of her neck. He ran the very tips of his fingers over the slight swell of her breasts, passed the barest brush of his fingers over her tight, pink nipples. Kate shivered and resisted the urge to press her body into his hands. The featherlight touches were their own form of torture, teasing and tormenting her with the promise of something more.

What shall I do with you, kitten? He pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and gave a short, sharp tug.

Kate squeaked but didn’t move. Whatever you’d like, Sir.

He stepped behind her and pressed his body to hers, his cock hard against her lower back. Get on your knees, kitten.

She dropped to the floor, kneeling up, arms at her sides, eyes down. She heard the sound of his zipper and the rustle of fabric. He tapped her chin, and she opened her mouth to him.

Good girl, he groaned as he slid his cock to the back of her throat.

He gathered her hair in his fist and pulled tight, guiding her mouth, controlling the depth and pace. He forced her to take all of him, until her nose was pressed into the thatch of salt-and-pepper curls at the base of his cock. She choked and spluttered, eyes watering as wetness rushed between her legs again. He pulled back, and she sought him with her mouth even as she gasped for breath. She sucked and licked his cock, moaning her own pleasure and desire into his flesh. She fought to keep her hands down. She wanted to touch him, to touch herself.

He reached behind her. A second later, she felt the sharp sting of a crop against her nipple. She squealed, from delight more than pain. He tapped and slapped and smacked at her breasts while she worked his cock with her mouth. Her clit throbbed, and she clutched her hands behind her back, fighting not to stroke herself to the orgasm that lingered just out of her reach.

Enough. He pushed her away and she bent back, hands braced on the floor behind her. He grinned evilly, standing over her. Stay there.

With a wet slap, he tapped her clit with the crop. Her whole body shivered, pleasure and pain short-circuiting in her spine, in her pussy, in the hazy place her brain was in. He tapped and tapped, steadily harder, each spark of pain humming through her body like an electric shock, inching her closer. He was going to make her beg for it every time tonight. So she did. She begged, and when he had finally heard enough, he said the words: Come for me, kitten.

She moaned and shook as pleasure bolted across every inch of her skin before it came back to the core of her. She collapsed on her side and pulled her knees to her chest, breathing hard and rocking gently from side to side.

That was four. Stand up.

Kate looked up at him from her place on the floor, a puddle of human. I don’t think I can, Sir.

He swatted her ass with the crop, the leather keeper leaving a wet spot on her skin. Yes, you can. Stand up, kitten.

She braced her hands on the floor and rose to her knees. Slowly and unsteadily, she got to her feet.

Good girl. Lie on the bed. Facedown.

His hand on the small of her back guided her into position on his large bed. She waited. He’d always loved to test her patience, but she was spent enough to be barely aware of the wait. Vaguely, she heard the sounds of him tidying up around her, tucking the flogger, the cuffs, and the crop back into their places. She watched him undress, carefully folding his shirt and trousers onto the chair in the corner, placing his undershirt and boxers into the laundry basket. On any other night, she would be internally cursing him for his stalling tactics, desperate for whatever was coming next, to feel him naked against her, inside her. Tonight, she waited quietly, content to float along in her half-dreaming state. She snapped back into her body when cool, hard nylon rolled slowly up the backs of her thighs and over her buttocks. She tensed, anticipating the first blow of the cane.

Breathe, kitten. You’re going to count for me. Say ‘Yes, Sir,’ if you want this.

Kate gulped a breath. She’d come this far. And she needed to see this to completion, to take what he gave and receive the sweet release of his body covering hers, one last time. Yes, Sir.

Good girl. Are you going to hold onto the quilt, or do I need to restrain you?

She took a slow, deep breath and answered, I can hold on, Sir.

Good girl. Take a deep breath. Now let it out.

As she exhaled, a line of fire lit across her ass. She flinched and rocked her hips against the mattress, making pleasure from the pain. With a steadier voice than she expected, she counted, One, Sir.

He rolled the cane down over the burgeoning welt and stopped just below it. Kate breathed deeply, trying not to listen for the telltale whistle that would make her flinch. Flinching only made it worse. She heard it. She flinched. The cane bit into her flesh a second time. For all that it hurt, her clit throbbed in tandem with the two stripes across her bottom.

She inhaled through her nose and counted, Two, Sir.

The cane rolled over the welts, paused, and landed again. Her whole body was on fire with pain and pleasure, the line between the two bleeding and blurring, her sinuses swelling as she started to cry. Three, Sir.

The fourth strike landed at the crease where her ass met her thighs. Four, Sir, she sobbed into the mattress.

Good girl, kitten. One more. One last deep breath for me. That’s my good girl.

Kate exhaled, and he laid the last strike across all four welts, setting them alight all over again. Kate bit down on the quilt to keep from screaming. She writhed and squirmed and kicked her feet, trying to escape the fire that licked across her skin. Several minutes passed before she spoke, Five, Sir.

With those final words, he climbed onto the bed, turned her over, and plunged his sheathed cock inside her in one hard thrust. The quilt chafed against her tender skin, but nothing could take away from the pleasure of being taken, filled, fucked at last. Kate wrapped her legs around his surging hips, lifting her own to meet his hard, fast thrusts. There would be no drawn-out lovemaking, not when they’d been waiting all night. Not when she couldn’t bear a tender goodbye.

One last good, hard fuck after he’d teased and tormented her body was all should could ask for, all she wanted, and he knew it. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and placed a palm on her sternum, holding her down as he rose to his knees, then dropped her wrists and used the free hand to reach between their bodies and thumb her clit.

Come for me now, Kate. One more time. Now, kitten.

Kate arched her back, dug her toes into the backs of his thighs, and came so hard she saw stars. She went limp as he pumped into her and found his own release with a stuttered groan. He collapsed on top of her, still inside her, and lay his head on her breast. She wrapped her arms around him and cradled his head, carding her fingers through his graying hair and fighting the urge to cry. They lay together, Kate tangled around his body while his weight held her to the mattress.

He carried her into the bathroom to clean up. He wiped her down and rubbed cream into the welts. She’d be bruised in the morning, temporary mementos to take with her. He put her to bed and climbed in beside her, pulling her to his chest. She’d be gone before he woke.

One

One year later…

---

Oh my god, you’re back!

Kate got yanked into the umpteenth overly enthusiastic hug of the night by yet another person she hadn’t seen or thought of much for a year. She would have felt bad stealing Jolene’s thunder at her own engagement party, if she didn’t know that Jo was secretly delighted to have some of the spotlight taken away from her. She and Matt were happily snuggled up in a corner, taking a breather from well-wishers while Sarah directed everyone at Kate, who’d been holed up