Bound for Life (Bound to the Bad Boy #1)

And with that, he lunges forward to suck a biting kiss into the flesh just above my collarbone and I yelp as my body trembles through an orgasm. I’m whimpering now, nearly incoherent with the overwhelming symphony of sensations.

“Good girl, very good,” Bruno whispers, stroking the hair back from my face and planting a soft kiss on my lips. “I want you to ride me, sweetheart.”

With one swift, fluid movement, he grabs hold of me and spins around so that his back is on the sand and I’m straddling him. I’m still swaying in the throes of pleasure, but I start working my hips, leaning forward to let my clit rub against him as I ride his cock. Bruno reaches up to caress my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending shockwaves of pleasure down to my core. I start to lose control, bouncing up and down on his cock with abandon, needing to feel him slam deep inside of me even though it almost hurts. I’m greedy for it now, all coyness and shyness completely faded away by my desire.

“Oh my god,” I groan, leaning backward and arching my back as I ride him. Bruno pulls up to a sitting position, tugging my legs around him so that we’re straddling each other now, facing each other. He gently strokes my face before aggressively taking a fistful of my hair and holding me in place. I never thought I would love being manhandled like this, but everything Bruno does is delicious. Perfect. With him, I can completely let go of my insecurities and anxieties and just be. At any moment, someone could come walking down the beach and find us here in the most vulnerable position. We could be discovered. A cop could show up. We could get in trouble for this.

But I don’t care. It’s worth the risk. Bruno is worth every risk.

Even though I’m technically on top, Bruno seizes control, thrusting into me while he holds me in place with both of his powerful hands firm on my hips. My second orgasm shatters over me and I start to scream, but Bruno lets go of my hip to cover my mouth with his hand again.

“Such a good girl for me. I love feeling you come all over my cock, Serena. I want to make you feel so good,” he snarls, never relenting in his fast, hard rhythm. I’m losing myself to the shivers of intense pleasure, the world melting away around me. All that matters is this: Bruno and me. Together.

He picks up the pace while one of his hands slides around to cup my ass, giving it a hard slap as I bounce on his cock. “Oh, fuck,” I moan. “Do that again. Please.”

He spanks me harder, his other hand sliding down from my mouth to my throat, applying gentle, careful pressure. It’s just enough to make me feel that edge of thrilling danger again, but never enough to scare or hurt me. He knows exactly what to do without even asking. He knows me.

“I knew you were a dirty girl underneath that sweet smile,” he whispers, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. I shiver and lean into him as he gives my ass another hard slap. He’s thrusting into me harder and harder, and I know I’m going to be aching later, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except for this. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

“You make me dirty,” I respond breathlessly. “You make me feel like I’ve never felt before.”

“And I’m going to keep you on your toes forever, mia passerotta. My sweet sparrow. I want to show you everything. Give you everything,” he answers, giving my throat a momentary squeeze. The sensation fills me with adrenaline and spurs me to ride his cock faster, rolling my hips.

“I want you to come, Bruno. Please,” I beg, wrapping my arms around him.

“Anything for you, baby,” he whispers.

And with that, he lets out a growl of pleasure, pumping his hot, sweet seed deep inside of me while I continue to bounce up and down on his cock, milking every last drop from him. He groans and leans in to kiss me hard, his tongue pushing into my mouth while my pussy fills with his cream. He thrusts a few more times and then stops, his hands roving down my back and up to my face, cupping my cheeks as we kiss. There’s a passion, a desperation in his kisses, as though he’s just as afraid of losing me as I am of losing him. We cling to each other this way for what has to be several minutes, just soaking up the glow of being together, the perfection of the moment.

Finally, we both start laughing softly, resting our foreheads against one another’s while the ocean waves crash behind us in the fading light. “Now, time to take you home,” Bruno says.

My heart sinks for a moment until he adds, “I’m gonna cook you dinner. I think we’ve both earned that, don’t you?”

I nod vigorously, overjoyed to spend more time with him. I never want to be out of his sight. I would follow him anywhere, and that thought doesn’t scare me at all. Being vulnerable with Bruno doesn’t feel scary or forced—it feels real.

We gingerly get dressed, trying and probably failing to get all the sand off of our bodies and clothing as we make our way back to the car. On the drive home, we listen to a radio station playing old Sinatra and Elvis songs, the windows rolled down to let the evening air blow through our hair. Bruno reaches across the console to take my hand, and I feel my heart swell. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I never thought I could find this kind of bliss.

When we get to his apartment building and step out of the elevator onto his floor, there’s a fluffy, fat cat meowing at us just as the doors open. Bruno chuckles, shifting the groceries from the market to one arm and bending down to pick the cat up with his other arm, to my surprise. “Ciao, Grasso,” he says, stroking the cat’s head as it closes its yellow eyes and purrs.

“Whose cat is that?” I ask bemusedly.

“My neighbor, Mrs. Rodriguez— he’s always sneaking out on her. Little bastard,” he says, cooing fondly at the cat as he carries it toward the door next to his and knocks.

There’s a pause, and then the telltale shuffle of slippered feet on carpet. The door rattles open to reveal a tiny, stooped older woman with snowy-white hair and big brown eyes. Her lipstick is slightly smudged, as though she’d wiped her mouth after forgetting she was wearing it. She’s wearing a bathrobe over her floral-patterned pajamas, and when she realizes who’s at the door, her wrinkled face splits into a genuine smile.

“Oh! Bruno, you found Grasso!” she exclaims, reaching out to take the massive cat into her arms. It purrs happily, curling its tail around its body. “Pobrecito, he just gets so bored cooped up in here with me sometimes, he wants to go on an adventure. But when he gets out there, he’s afraid. Thank you for bringing him back. I was just about to watch Jeopardy and go to bed without him!”

“No problem, Mrs. Rodriguez,” Bruno says, smiling. “I’ve brought you some groceries, too.”

The woman’s eyes light up. “Oh gracias, mi querido. You are too good to me.”

“Just looking out for my favorite neighbor,” Bruno replies, handing her one of the bags. I can feel my heart swelling with pride and warmth. Bruno puts an arm around me. “By the way, this is Serena. She’s my—”

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