The Bound Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

did he ever think a single taste would be enough?
    Yet this was where it had to stop or it wouldn’t.
    Today was just a taste not a ravishing. A taste and then move on. It wasn’t as much as he’d wanted but he’d under estimated how she’d affect him.
    She deserved better.
    He pulled that thought into the forefront of his mind. Held it there as he stepped back.
    She protested with a sound, followed him as he withdrew. She had no idea what he wanted and how close he was to taking it.
    “Jamie, no, no…”
    Looking down into her face, her eyes were black pools of want staring back in a wash of innocence. Did she have any idea the messages she was sending to a man like him?
    He pulled back more and let go of her hair, she dropped her hand.
    Then he stepped right back. He was not sure how he did it. Every part of his body disagreed with him.
    Jamie looked at her face as confusion washed over it. She was downright dangerous.
    Olive maintained eye contact with him as she reached down and tugged her skirt up higher.
    His heart jumped.
    Their eyes held. Where was his demure girl now?
    He was trying to be a better man, but the truth was he wasn’t there yet.
    He let his fingers trail over her skin. Red, swollen lips glowed on her flushed face. He slipped his thumb between them and the scorching swipe of her tongue went straight to his crotch.
    “Again.” His voice was hoarse.
    She sucked on him and he started to fall into a haze of need, his cock a squeeze away from bursting.
    Just do it. The words pounded through his thoughts.
    Go where they both wanted to go, to a hot clasping explosion of pleasure.
    He pulled out his thumb, stuck at a cross road.
    The trouble was he wanted to bind her, restrain her, flip her over, and do dastardly things with her immobilized body.
    She was not agreeing to that. In her mind, he would be doing a prince charming seduction, drawing out her sighs with soft touches and gentle words, and then slip into her hot warm pocket. However, he was not a price charming, he was not a bad man yet he was a man who had never tasted those waters and never would. The waters he swam in were deeper, darker and murkier. Not a place where a woman who glowed like the sun swam in.
    Still, his body pushed him to draw down her chemise, grab those spools of yarn, and put them to good use around her puckered nipples.
    Jamie leaned closer, placed his palms over her hands still clutched at the hem of her skirt and leaned in close between her legs. Her eyes flared and she licked her lips.
    “One more taste, Olive Thompson.” He whispered over her mouth.
    Those soft lips pushed against his, her mouth open, and her warm, hungry tongue against his.
    Long, languid strokes and he was as out of breath as she was.
    His fingers worked her jacket, loosened it as they kissed. Her breath hitched as his hand slipped down her chemise and over her breast. The hard nipple pressed against his palm.
    She moved forward and pushed against his thigh again, her hands pulling him forward. Her breath dragged through her mouth as they kissed.
    He was going to lose control.
    In this moment he didn’t care if she deserved better.
    He moved her hand down to his pants and pressed her against the aching need they contained.
    She rolled her palm over him, bit at his lip. All he could feel was her. All he wanted was her.
    Her hands worked at his trouser buttons.
    A slight shift in posture and he reached down between them, found the opening in her drawers and pushed his fingers through.
    The soft damp curls against his fingers, the wet folds a slick satin as he slid through them.
    The doorknob rattled.
    Three knocks on the door.
    “Mr. Edwards, are you in there?”
    Fuck.
    The kiss stopped. They panted in the silence.
    The door rattled again.
    It was Mr. Howard, the bookshop manager. Anyone else and he’d wait them out. Mr. Howard on the other hand kept a key to the workshop and had a character that turned over every leaf. He’d go and get the key