Cuff Me, Sir: Bonds of Worship 3 E-Book

Burke Lynn

• Herausgeber: Lynn Burke
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

He promises distraction from her grief.

She falls captive to his heavy hand.

Luna fulfills Rian's desire to be needed, but will the truth of who he is break her trust?

Leseprobe

Cuff Me, Sir

Bonds of Worship 3

Lynn Burke

Copyright © 2019 by Lynn Burke

All rights reserved.

Editor: Avril Stepowski

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review or article, without written permission from the author.

Visit my website at authorlynnburke.com

Cuff Me, Sir

He promises distraction from her grief.

She falls captive to his heavy hand.

Luna fulfills Rian's desire to be needed, but will the truth of who he is break her trust?

Contents

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Chapter Eighteen

19. Chapter Nineteen

20. Chapter Twenty

21. Chapter Twenty-One

22. Chapter Twenty-Two

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Bonus Material

About the Author

Also By Lynn Burke

Chapter One

Luna

Bridesmaid dresses sucked ass. Especially yellow ones with too much tulle. Like, who the hell has goldenrod for one of their colors, especially when the damn stuff blooms everywhere across New England and kills sinuses?

Natalie Perez, my sister—that’s who. But, we no longer shared a last name. She’d become Mrs. Jordan Graystone a few hours earlier in an outdoor wedding at the Laurents’ estate where they’d met. And, she’d dressed me—her only bridesmaid—in yellow. I yanked the sagging sleeveless dress up over my boobs, trying like fuck to not scowl.

After what I’d done to my new brother-in-law, I was lucky to even be invited to their posh wedding, which was attended by titled English families, famous Hollywood socialites—all the beautiful people. The two who should have been with Nat and me in the family photos, however, were absent.

My throat clogged, and I shuffled myself farther into the shadows of the manicured garden behind the large white tent, my vision of Nat and Jordan dancing hazing at the thought of our parents.

Dead. Because Dad drove drunk and killed them both.

I’d ended up on a similar path as him, and at twenty, I’d done a stint in jail which had finally gotten me sober. Two years I’d gone without one damn sip of alcohol, and I’d never wanted to guzzle in the way Nat’s wedding day tempted me to do.

Champagne flutes everywhere. Tumblers with ice and clear liquid cradled in manicured hands. Wine and beer flowed like water.

Add in the fact I’d now lost the only other person I loved to a society we hadn’t come from, and I wanted to drown myself in liquor. I wanted to ease the pain in my heart, numb the emotions I didn’t know how to handle.

I forced my focus off the party, ignoring the DJ’s music, the din of voices, and laughter. Pebbled paths led deeper into the gardens, but beyond the lights of the wedding, twilight bathed the meadow surrounding the massive stone and timber mansion. Stars reined overhead, twinkling with a happy freedom I longed for—yet feared.

Nat had found her forever man, the kind women read about in fairytales. Rich, gorgeous, and he had a killer British accent. Her knight in shining armor. But, she deserved such a man. Nat was the good sister. The responsible one who looked after me when our parents had died. The unselfish young woman who had tried to keep me off the path our father had taken. She hadn’t been the one to fail, though.

I had. Miserably, wreaking havoc on her and her emotions. The selfish bitch of a younger sister, bitter and filled with anger and pain. Booze had made things easier for me, but hell for her.

It had been her letter of apology while I sat in jail that had helped me to choose a better path, even if it did take me six months to reply.

The past...

I exhaled a heavy sigh, realizing I needed to change my focus toward the future—even if it was a bleak one lacking the love I longed for—and get a hold on my emotions. Yanking the dress up once more, I glanced toward the wedding ruckus, my gaze wandering over a crowd I didn’t belong to, one who if they knew an ex-convict walked among them, would, , without doubt, shun me.

Designer dresses and tuxes, glittering jewels, and Jimmy Choos. Perfectly painted faces. Groomed hair...

Except for one man who had his dark hair pulled back in a man bun. A goddamn bun of hair crowning a gorgeous face, clean-shaven jaw, and light eyes. Well over six feet of muscle encased in a black tux.

Sexy. As. Fuck.

I’d been watching him all damn day to escape the shit in my head, but he didn’t spare me a single glance. Perhaps the only other single man beside him was more his type than a shorter, curvy Latina like myself. Or, perhaps, he’d heard all about Mrs. Graystone’s wayward sister, a mere blue-collar, recovering alcoholic, and ex-con.

I heaved another sigh and forced a smile as Nat caught my eye. Her new life wasn’t for me, but I sure as hell wouldn’t have minded a good hard fuck with Mr. Man Bun, a one-night stand, to fill the loneliness I’d experienced since being released from jail the year before.

Fucking around with every other Tom, Dick, and Harry had ceased when I’d given up the bottle, though. The party lifestyle no longer appealed to me, but neither did finding that special someone. No one would trust me because of my past, and I feared love because the two I’d loved the most, I’d lost. Thoughts of Nat going down on Jordan’s yacht or in his private jet haunted me, whispers of possible tragedy leaving me alone in the world—even if her marriage would make her less accessible to me when I needed her.

My throat thickened again, and Nat glanced my way, concern on her face. She excused herself from her new in-laws—her new mom and dad—and started toward me.

Fake smile time yet again.

I will not be jealous ... I will not be bitter.

“Hey.” She touched my arm, studying my face. “How are you holding up?”

“Good,” I lied through my teeth.

“It isn’t too much?”

I shrugged, my smile wobbling.

She laced her fingers through mine. “Why don’t you come over and mingle? Jordan’s parents are wicked nice.”

“I don’t fit in here, Nat. If these people knew what I am—”

“A few already do and don’t care,” Nat snipped, cutting me off. “Don’t let your past define you, Luna. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. A clean slate.”

Nat was right—she was always right, but I had zero desire to attempt to mingle with a society far above me.

She let out a heavy sigh of her own. “I really miss Mom and Dad.”

Damn tears stung again. “Me, too.”

She squeezed my fingers, and we both dealt with the tragic reminder in silence. My mind went straight to booze, my stomach clenching and mouth watering for a taste. Just one.

I knew better, though. I wouldn’t stop with just one, and I’d end up back in the shit hole I’d been free of for two years.

“I’m not really doing good, Nat,” I whispered the admission, needing accountability and support. “I-I’m dying for a drink and need to get out of here. I need something to occupy my mind, something to make me forget.”

“That bad?” She peered into my eyes as though searching out the answer for herself.

“Pretty fucking miserable,” I managed, my stomach in knots and throat tight as hell.

“Shit.” She let out a grumbling string of muttered curses—not as though pissed, but resigned—and heaved a sigh. “Come on.” She started forward toward the tent, my hand grasped firmly in hers.

“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing in the opposite direction—and wishing we strode out beneath the stars and twilight that hid my ugliness.

“I want you to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“The man Jordan warned off you. The only available man here who will know how to make you forget all about your craving for alcohol.”

The only man available... Mr. Man Bun and his friend were the only two unattached at the wedding as far as I’d seen throughout the long-ass day.

“Holy hell,” I muttered as I realized we headed straight toward them.

Nat tugged me along, and as though he felt us near, Mr. Man Bun turned, his gaze landing on me for a brief second before flitting to Nat with a raised brow as though asking what the hell she was doing.

Heat flooded my face—and my pussy.

I no longer wished to hide away and decided perhaps a good hard fuck was exactly the distraction I needed from the desires and thoughts tearing at my mind.

Chapter Two

Rian

Not looking at Natalie’s sister all night fucking killed me. I’d helped Jordan do a full background check on the younger woman a few years earlier, learned all her secrets, her vices, her tics. A promiscuous party animal, an abuser of the vodka on the rocks in my hand. A wild soul, broken by the loss of parents, who had filled the void with alcohol and men.

She was fucking gorgeous. Long, silky hair, dark as night. Light brown eyes and a spatter of freckles over her nose. For the wedding, she’d painted on smoky eyes that hardened my dick, and the red staining on her lips kept me aching all goddamn night since I’d seen her walk down the runner between chairs acting as the aisle leading to the archway where Jordan awaited Natalie.

Luna stood beyond the tent, in the shadows outside society, as though she felt she didn’t belong. She didn’t—wouldn’t—in most of their eyes, but neither did I. While I was an FBI agent in the Laurents’ back pocket, I was also good friends with Adam Laurent and his two friends who made up JAG Industries, the cybersecurity company who happened to toss me anonymous fraud tips. The only reason for the invite. Fuck knew I didn’t drown in gold coins like the rest of them.

Awareness of the woman I’d fantasied about for two years—and had been ordered to ignore—raised the hair on my nape. Barely legal hadn’t stopped me from going after a woman before, but Jordan was like a brother to me. He knew me well.

Too well.

Out of honor for my friend, I’d feigned disinterest all damn night, watching her in my periphery rather than outright stare like I’d wanted to, letting her see the lust in my eyes. Letting her see exactly what I wanted to do with those lush curves hidden behind a hideous dress.

That strange energy I’d felt whenever she passed nearby tingled my fingertips again, and I turned.

Natalie all but pulled Luna toward me in a pile of tulle and silk, one a fluff ball of white, the other wrapped in a horrid shade of yellow. A purposeful stride and determined glint carried Jordan’s new wife toward me.

I focused on the woman whose hand she clasped, dragging her along through the tent. My gaze finally connected with Luna’s for the first time, and I damn near lost my breath.

Little Luna Perez, petite Latina with lush tits spilling from that golden dress that tucked neatly around her tiny waist. Too damn young, but too damn hot to ignore.

My dick swelled, and I turned my focus back on Natalie, raising an eyebrow.

“What the hell?”

I’d forgotten Brock stood beside me—a close friend of mine and the JAG owners—and our pilot.

“Thought she was off-limits,” he muttered when I didn’t respond.

“I thought so, too,” I mumbled a second before the two women approached, Natalie yanking Luna forward to stand before me.

I lost myself in her amber eyes with their flecks of gold. But, Natalie had put her in front of me—I wasn’t about to ignore the gift of being allowed to look my fill.

“Luna, this is Rian,” Natalie said, not sounding pleased in the least over the introduction. “Rian, my younger sister.” She huffed an exasperated sigh. “She needs a distraction.”

I jerked my focus toward Natalie. “Excuse me?”

“A. Distraction.” Her dark eyes glinted as she scowled up at me. “I trust you can give her something to think about?”

Her words settled into my brain, jerking my dick in my damn pants. “I thought she was off-limits.”

“I changed my mind.” Natalie didn’t sound too happy about that fact. “But if you hurt her—and you know what I mean—I’ll make you beg for death before I’m done with you.”

Brock chuckled.

I didn’t. I knew exactly what Natalie was telling me, and it wasn’t hard to understand why. My stomach fucking fluttered like it did when I used to be a kid and was about to try something new. I shifted my attention back on Luna to find her peering up at me with blown-out pupils, the pulse in her neck throbbing, her brow furrowed.

Satisfaction sped through my system, hardening me to the point of nails. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too,” she said, her voice full of husk and lust.

I clenched my teeth against a groan wanting to rumble up from my chest.

“What are you doing, love?” Jordan asked from the other side of Brock. I hadn’t even realized he’d approached us.

“Probably making a mistake.” Natalie released Luna’s hand, wound her arms through Jordan’s and Brock’s, sandwiching herself between the two men. “You have my blessing,” she told me, her pointed chin lifted and eyes flashing. “Just make sure you have her permission first.”

“Of course.”

“I better not regret this,” Natalie grumbled and turned, pulling my friends away in a rustle of silk. “Kick his ass if he doesn’t deliver,” she shot over her shoulder at Luna.

Jordan glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes full of threat. Hurt her, you hurt my wife.

I dipped my head in acknowledgment of his unspoken threat and turned to find Luna glancing between Adam and me.

“Well, that was awkward as hell,” she muttered, craning her head back to peer up at me once more.

I studied her face, the freckles on her nose, her pouty lips, and the slight indent in her chin. Flawless—hot as fuck—and young enough I wondered if she knew what her sister had just done, what she’d given her blessing for me to do.

Having a green light, however, I wasn’t about to waste time wondering. I handed my drink to Brock without looking at him.

“Lucky fuck,” he muttered, taking the glass from me.

Ignoring him, I held out my hand to Luna. “Care to dance?”

She studied my hand, then my eyes. “Somehow I get the feeling booze might be safer than touching you.”

I laughed loudly and when I sobered, I found one of her dark eyebrows arched with the kind of sass that shot an ache through my balls.

“Give me your hand, little girl,” I said, my tone one most didn’t deny, “and I promise I won’t hurt you—unless you ask me to.”

She obeyed, her silken hand sliding against mine and jerking my dick inside my slacks. I tangled our fingers together, my hand swallowing hers whole as a gasp parted her lips.

My goddamn heart raced. Mouth watered for a taste of her too-young mouth, her too-young pussy. I wanted to lick her from asshole to defiant chin and back down again, lingering in learning every inch of her body.

“Don’t bother waiting for me tonight, Brock,” I told my friend without looking at him. “I’ll find my own way back to Boston.”

He chuckled and moved off without a word.