Broken Bonds Boxed Set 1-3 Read Online Free PDF

look down at her. When I finally do, my muscles go lax. She’s mortified. I can see it painted clearly all over her beautiful face, splashed with red, even in the darkness.
    I kneel down, my whole body strung tight with the need to touch her. I’ve anticipated this moment—when we’d first look at one another; when I’d hear her voice—but I hate that it’s like this. With fear in her deep green eyes. At least, fear that I didn’t put there.
    “He’s a douchebag. But are you okay?” I ask.
    Her burgundy layers fall to conceal her face, and I want so badly to push them aside. It’s a wig—I realized this before now. I’ve imagined what her real hair looks like; dark, to match her eyebrows. Soft, silky, long. I want to strip her of the fakeness and curl my fingers around a thick hank of her real hair. Pull her head back; look down into her eyes. I push the enticing thought away.
    She nods a couple times, her movements jerky. “I’m fine. Just embarrassed, I guess.” Lifting her chin, she fixes her penetrating gaze on me. All logic flees my brain. “But what did I expect? I mean, look at where I am. I overreacted, that’s all.”
    Blinking hard, I break the hold she has over me, searching for the right words. I need to please her in this moment. But I’m already so lost to her. “You should expect members to behave appropriately. At the very least. You’re not doing anything wrong by being here, watching. That’s what this room is all about. He knows the rules.” I nod my head toward the black wall, where submissives are lined up in knelt positions. “You’re not on your knees. You’re not asking to be dominated. There’s always a bad apple, and it just looks like one found you.”
    Long eyelashes frame widening eyes. She’s staring right into the depths of me. “Don’t blame the victim,” she says, her voice throaty. “I know that by heart. You’d think I’d believe it by now.”
    I feel my brows furrow slightly. It’s as if she’s talking more to herself than me, but I tuck this interesting morsel of information away. “That’s right. Now,” I say, moving a fraction closer. “I’m technically off work. So I’d like to help you get back to enjoying yourself.”
    The thin column of her throat bobs on a swallow. “I’m not into…”
    “Shh,” I say. “I won’t lay a hand on you. I won’t touch you. And I can leave…if that makes you more comfortable.” I pause, praying that my goddess doesn’t send me away. When she doesn’t speak up immediately, I push on. “I only want to see that look in your eyes, that passion on your face—the one you wore just moments before that rude interruption.”
    I watch as her breathing quickens. The tremble of her red, red lips. “No touching?” she questions.
    My pulse speeds. “Only if you ask. Always, only if you ask.”
    She continues to stare at me in guarded fascination, the seconds suspending us in our own sphere of heat and caution. And when she gives a sure nod, I’m lit with fire.
    As she swivels on the stool to face the stage, I peer down at her. Amazed at this stunning creature I’ve somehow discovered. I pull another stool up close behind her, take my seat. Her shoulders tense as my thighs and body cage her in from behind. I can feel her body heat radiating off her, caressing me, beckoning me. Her fragrance of sweet-scented shampoo and body lotion fills my senses, tantalizing.
    Slowly, carefully, I lower my head next to hers. As close to her as I can get without touching. With difficulty, I aim my attention toward the stage. The Dom is placing nipple clamps on the sub, her high-pitched moans piercing the charged air between us.
    “Do you know why he connects the chain to her mouth gag?” My words slip past my lips in a whispered plea.
    She remains silent, her gaze steady on the scene. A slight shake of her head invites me to continue, and my dick swells.
    “It heightens her desire. Her awareness.” I breathe her in, a