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“Absolutely not.”
The firmness of his response was a relief even as my need to defend my sister roared to life. “Why not? What’s wrong with her?” I slapped my hands over my face once I realized what I’d said. “That’s a stupid question. Ignore me. Sisterly instinct.”
Luca laughed softly and pried my hands away. “There’s nothing wrong with Stella. She seems perfectly lovely, but for one, I like you, not her. And for two, even if I was interested in her, double-dipping in the same family doesn’t float my personal boat.”
I gave in to the urge to put my head on his shoulder with a sigh. His arm slung around my shoulders.
“Were you actually worried about that?”
I pressed my lips tightly together, refusing to answer the question. “It doesn’t matter,” I said instead.
“Of course it matters,” Luca insisted. “I’m a pretty open book. If you’re worried about something, you can talk to me about it. I want you to be comfortable.”
I swallowed hard against the rise of emotion. Rather than speaking, I turned and cupped his cheek, pulling his mouth to mine. I knew how to do this part of things. Confronting the layers of everything built up by people who hadn’t given a flying fuck if I was comfortable wasn’t something I was prepared to do today. Luca twisted in his chair, threading his fingers into my hair, lips soothing even as they ignited.
Climbing onto his lap was a bit of a struggle considering he was tucked close to the breakfast bar, but once I managed it, I sank my weight against him, diving deeper into the kiss. His soft scent enveloped me. His arms trembled around me and he broke away, flexing his hands with a wince.
“Sorry. Arms are weak right now.”
“You wouldn’t have to use them if you let me tie you to the hoop.” The particular desire to see Luca trussed up and spread out for my personal enjoyment pulsed between my thighs. He’d look so pretty. Vulnerable in a way that most men I’d encountered wanted me to be but would never consider for themselves. Would Luca put himself in that position for me?
“Can we put the hoop at a height I can sit on it while tied up? I could manage that.”
“You bet your ass we can! It’s adjustable.” I slid off his lap, crooking my finger for him to follow me onto the mats. Once I got him arranged in the center, I leveled the hoop against his butt and had him bring his arms through to hold it in place. “Okay, keep it there and I’ll adjust the height.”
It took only a few seconds to get it right and Luca was able to rest a good portion of his weight.
“Perfect. Wait right there.” I slipped away to my nest in the loft and grabbed one of the boxes from under my bed that held all the restraints I owned. Luca watched me with wide eyes as I returned, his gaze darting between me and the box.
“Whatcha got there?”
“Supplies.” I set the box down and popped the lid, focusing on Luca’s face as his gaze darted over the contents.
“Holy shit,” he muttered.
“Is that a good or a bad holy shit?” Sitting cross-legged in front of my stash, I nudged through the stock looking for a solid set of leather cuffs.
“It’s good,” he squeaked out. “Really good. I didn’t expect you to have so much.”
“This is only the restraints,” I pointed out. “I have organized boxes for everything else.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his breathing turning shallow as the steady rise of his cock fought with his pants. Slipping off the floor, I brought the cuffs with me and stood in front of him, walking my fingertips up his chest.
“Ready?” I lifted the cuffs with my free hand, letting the metal glint against the leather in the light.
“More than.”
“Pick your safe word while I get you ready.”
“I can’t tell you to stop?”
“You can, but ‘Don’t. Stop.’ sounds very close to ‘don’t stop’, so it’s good to have something that’s entirely unambiguous.”
“Mango? Is that a good safe word?”
“Works for me.” I had him strip off his shirt, and then I arranged him with his arms through the hoop, forearms resting over the top curve. I secured a cuff around each wrist, pinning him to the hoop. “How does that feel?”
Luca wiggled, finding himself able to move his arms up and down, but still firmly attached to the hoop. “A little nerve-racking, but not uncomfortable.”
