Read Online Bound by Tradition by Roxy Harte - Free Book Online Page B

eyes on mine. Don’t look away,” he commanded, and all hint of humor was gone from his voice. I looked up and the expression of raw need in his face was discomfiting. Maybe it was the sunlight, exposing us to anyone who would glance our way, but I think it was more—that if I could see what he was feeling so clearly, he might see what I was feeling too.
    His fingers twirled my nipple, pinching, pulling, making me want more. Need. More.
    The fingers playing with the edge of my panties finally slid under and stayed under the fabric, finding my wet slit. He pushed into the wetness, separating my lips. I tried to look away, feeling myself flush with embarrassment, but his face ducked with mine so that our gazes stayed locked. “Why don’t you want me to see you?”
    “It’s scary.”
    “New territory?” he asked softly. “I’ve crossed the line from stranger you’ll never see again to something more, something yet undefined?”
    “Something like that.” I swallowed hard, gasping when his fingers pinched my clit, making my need rise.
    “You like this?”
    “Yes,” I hissed.
    His fingers slid deeper, sinking into my vagina—in, out, in, out—curling inward, stroking my G-spot. “Which part? The naughty part? We might be seen? Might be caught? Or the part where you’re dallying with daddy’s archenemy’s son?”
    Ahhhh . The pleasure was so intense it almost drowned the pain in his voice, but I heard it.
    “The part where I feel your soul trying to find mine and knowing there’s no soul there for you to find.” My orgasm crashed over me, dragging me under for a moment, stealing all thought of whether I was making too much noise, or if anyone was watching our indiscretion. In that moment I didn’t care about any of it, because I could almost believe he’d found I did have a soul.
    * * * *
    He drove me back to the campus. “I wish you had longer than an hour.”
    “God, me too.” I’d ridden with my eyes closed, trying to hold on to the bliss I’d found with him for as long as I could. When I felt the Jeep come to a stop, I opened my eyes. “What would we do if I had more than an hour?”
    “I’d take you to the shibari center and tie you in a suspension.”
    “A suspension? Like hanging in the air?” The thought made me crazed. Scared. And fear was unacceptable. I’d have to face it, tame it. “Maybe. Someday.”
    He leaned toward me to kiss me when I opened the door. “Don’t wait too long for someday, beautiful. While you’re not paying attention, your life might pass you by.”

Chapter Seven
    Why does everything Shiro say to me have to keep wrapping through my brain on a slow rewind wheel, like a really bad pop song stuck in my head? Five hours later, I wanted to shout, “My life isn’t passing me by!” but the truth was, even if it wasn’t passing me by, I was too busy to enjoy it. I raced from campus to work and then from work, home. Rushed to change, promised I’d eat after, and ran across the yard to the dojo. Of course, class had already started.
    I released a long-held breath as I bowed onto the deck, and every eye turned toward me. Nothing like living under a microscope.
    “Nice for you to join us, Miss Ricci,” my father announced from in front of the class. He didn’t meet my gaze.
    “Sorry I’m late, sensei . Permission to join the class.”
    “Fifty push-ups.”
    I dropped and pumped out fifty, then hurried to my place. The class stood at attention. Announcements would be read as to how our class had performed at the competition. There would be no end to the ribbing I would take for two second-place medals.
    After all the names and places were read, I realized he wasn’t going to read my scores, and I knew it wasn’t an oversight on his part. It was as if I hadn’t even competed.
    By the end of four grueling hours, made worse by forced push-ups every time I turned around for doing something incorrectly—I lost count at three hundred—I was ready to never step