Page 71 of The Bodyguard

His eyes locked on hers immediately.

She walked toward him slowly, letting every step be deliberate. Her voice came low. Sure. “I don’t want comfort tonight.”

He didn’t move. Just watched.

“I don’t want to be held or reassured or protected.” Her throat tightened slightly, but she pushed through. “I want you to take me. All of me.”

Mitch’s chest rose once, sharp and deep. His voice, when it came, was dark and gravel-rich. “You sure?”

“I’m not asking to forget,” she said. “I’m asking to feel everything. But on your terms. No armor. No fight. Just us.” She stepped in close, lifted her hands to rest lightly on his chest. “I trust you. Show me what that means.”

Something in him snapped then—but not violently. Not like glass breaking. It was more like a lock unclicking. A gate swinging wide.

“Bedroom,” he said. Low. Commanding.

She obeyed without hesitation, removing her tank top and pants as she entered the bedroom.

The ropes weren’t silk, but they might as well have been. They coiled around Andi’s wrists like promises—strong, unyielding promises that whispered stay still, stay open, stay mine. Mitch tied her to the headboard with the kind of precision that made her stomach clench and her pussy throb. Her arms were stretched just enough to remind her she couldn’t move, but not enough to hurt. And fuck, she didn’t want to move. She wanted to be his goddamn canvas, his plaything, his to ruin and rebuild.

Her body trembled like a live wire, every nerve ending screaming for his touch. She felt no fear—no, this was anticipation, pure and filthy. Her breasts heaved with every shallow breath, the thin fabric of her tank top doing fuck-all to hide her hardened nipples. She was already wet, already desperate, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Mitch stood at the edge of the bed, fully fucking dressed, like some kind of sadistic tease. His eyes raked over her like he was memorizing every inch, every curve, every secret. His gaze felt like fire, like it was peeling her skin back layer by layer until there was nothing left but raw, quivering need.

“Eyes open,” he ordered, his voice low and gravelly, the kind of tone that made her pussy clench hard enough to ache. She blinked, her lashes fluttering for a second, but she obeyed. Looked right at him. Didn’t look away, even when she wanted to hide from the intensity in his stare.

“Say it,” he said, stepping closer. His fucking presence was suffocating in the best way, like he’d already wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed. “Tell me what you want.”

Her voice was a whisper, shaky and broken. “I want you to claim me. To remind me I’m yours. That this…” she tugged gently at the ropes, her wrists straining just enough to make her gasp, “… is my choice.”

He exhaled like she’d fucking gutted him, and then he was on her. He used his knife to cut her bra and panties from her body, leaving her bare and vulnerable and his. Her tits bounced slightly as the fabric came off, nipples hard and begging for his mouth. But he didn’t touch them—not yet. No, he just stared, his eyes dark and hungry, like he was fucking devouring her with his gaze alone.

“You’re beautiful when you surrender,” he growled, his voice rough and primal. Her stomach tightened at the words, her hips lifting slightly off the bed like a goddamn plea.

And then his mouth was on her ribs—soft at first, just a kiss that made her shiver. But then his teeth grazed her skin, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp. She squirmed beneath him, her pussy dripping now, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. He worked his way down her body, slow and deliberate, his tongue teasing the peak of one breast before he sucked it fully into his mouth. Her hips jerked, her back arching as she moaned his name.

He didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and teased until she was writhing beneath him, her pussy throbbing with every flick of his tongue. He moved lower, his hands sliding down her sides, gripping her hips as he settled between her thighs. She could feel his breath on her sex, hot and damp, and she nearly came just from the expectation alone.

When his tongue finally pressed against her clit, she cried out, her body bowing off the bed as he wrapped his hands around her thighs and settled in. He didn’t tease her—no; he devoured her like a starving man, his tongue fucking relentlessly as it swirled and flicked and drove her closer to the edge. Her orgasm hit fast and hard, tearing through her like a freight train. She screamed his name, her thighs trembling as he didn’t let up, pushing her into a second wave of pleasure that left her gasping and begging.

But he wasn’t done. He pushed two fingers inside her pussy, curling them just right against that sweet spot that made her see stars. He fucked her with his fingers while he sucked her clit, driving her into a third orgasm that left her sobbing in sheer ecstasy. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, soaked and tight and so overly stimulated and sensitive she thought she might pass out.

Only then did he stand, his cock straining against his jeans. Slowly, he removed his clothes—his eyes never leaving hers. She watched, wild-eyed and trembling, as he did so, freeing his cock—thick, hard and fucking perfect. He stroked himself once, twice, groaning low in his throat as he covered her body with his own, settling between her thighs, lining himself up with her dripping pussy.

And then he was inside her, filling her in one brutal thrust that made her scream. He didn’t go slow—no; he fucked her with a raw, primal urgency that left her breathless. His hands gripped her hips, holding her still as he pounded into her, each thrust hitting so deep she felt it in her fucking soul.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “Say you’re mine.”

“Yours,” she gasped, her voice shattered. “I’m yours.”

He kissed her then—hard and desperate, his tongue claiming her mouth as thoroughly as his cock claimed her pussy. She could taste herself on his lips, the mix of their moans and breaths a symphony of pure lust and need.

When he came, it was with a low groan against her neck, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his release. He stayed buried inside her as he reached up and untied the ropes, his hands gentle now, reverent almost. He collapsed against her as she pulled him into her arms, both of them slick with sweat and cum and the remnants of what had passed between them.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Then, quietly, Andi said, “You scare me.”

Mitch went still.

---