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"Lots of rituals emphasize binding, tying and knots," he pointed out. "What you said to me a few minutes ago told me that you want to claim me as your own, exclusively. Right?"
She met his gaze. "Yes."
His brown eyes glinted with satisfaction. "I may be a Dom, but directing you to do this, seeing how much pleasure you're finding in it, and picking up on those undercurrents? You think it seems weird, you wanting to do this, but nothing is farther from the truth."
He cupped his hand under her hair, stroking. "When the final knot is done," he said huskily, "I plan to take over, Julie. You'll understand then what you doing this does to me."
He tightened his arm around her waist, holding her close to him. She'd dropped the blanket so she was just in the T-shirt. He brushed a kiss over her mouth, then eased her back. He was being so gentle with her. After the earlier events of the night, she suspected he wasn't wanting to put any kind of pressure on her, but her body was starting to stir and crave pressure. His pressure.
"Okay, once you get to the fifth knot, you're going to split the rope ends around my cock and balls, thread the rope between my legs and take it to the bight around my neck in back. You'll thread the two ends under that."
As she worked, her fingertips brushed his skin. She was standing so close to him, his head bent over hers as he watched her. "Can you be naked?" she asked when she reached the fifth knot. "I'd like to see how that looks. If that's okay."
He folded his arms over her back, sliding down to thread his fingers into her panties to grip her ass.
"If you take off that shirt so you're wearing just these. I do love your tits."
"I don't get to have the upper hand, me all dressed and you not?"
"Is that what you want to experience right now?" He posed the question seriously.
She shook her head. "I guess I was just curious if that would make you antsy."
"Who's in control has nothing to do with clothes. Not for this. Answer the question, Julie. Are you wanting to top right now?"
"No. Definitely no."
"Then don't ask me questions to test that. It means you're feeling nervous. Follow my directions, trust me, and let that go. I'll take us both where we want to be."
"Okay." As always during this, he spoke without irritation. He wasn't angry with her, just laying down clear rules of engagement. "Question, though. What would you do if I didn't follow directions on purpose, specifically to test you?"
"Bratting?" His eyes gleamed in a way that caused erotic flutters. "I'd put you on the ground and hogtie you, and I'd attach the rope to a hook so your knees were off the floor and you'd feel the strain. You'd get hot and wet over it, but you'd also have to apologize to me for trying to run things before I let that tension loose."
"Oh," she said faintly. "Good to know."
"Shirt?" he reminded her, eyes sweeping over her breasts straining against the fabric of the T-shirt. "Though seeing your nipples get bigger and stiffer under there is a pleasure, that's another man's shirt, and I want it off."
"Oh." She hadn't even thought of it that way. "It's one Thomas loaned me when I was visiting him and Marcus in North Carolina. It's his family's hardware store. He said I could keep it. It reminded me of my visits there when I was back in New York."
Initially, she'd liked it because it smelled like Thomas, a reinforcement of that reassuring, platonic crush she had on both him and Marcus, her surrogate family and best friends. Something way too hard to explain right now, when the only scent and touch she wanted were from the man in front of her.
Pulling off the shirt, she set it aside. He brought her closer again with a look and caressed her breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb. Then he let her go to detach the pump and open his jeans. He left them that way--a provocative look since there was nothing under them-- as he fished a piece of medical tape and the cap for the cannula out of his pocket. He'd started to carry those two things there regularly, so that when they wanted to be intimate he could quickly cap the line and tape it against his body where it wouldn't distract either of them any more than necessary. It was little different from the pause for a condom, but she was very glad they didn't have to worry about that anymore.
That taken care of, he pushed the jeans off his bare ass.
He was temptingly erect, but he took control again, continuing to instruct her on how to tie him in the rope. She gave herself the indulgence of caressing his testicles and brushing his cock frequently as he had her run the two ropes between his legs, leaving a fist width of slack beneath his balls.
"It will draw up as we continue. Now let's do the diamonds."
She thought how it worked was cool, passing the rope under the bight, as he called it, at the back of his neck, and bringing the ends under either of his arms to thread them between the double strands in front. As she pulled those two strands apart, it created a diamond pattern between the first two knots. Another wrap around back, and then back to the front, creating another diamond, all the way down his upper torso.
He had his head tilted, watching her. On a whim, she let go of the rope to pull the band loose holding his hair and threaded her hands through it, spreading it out on his bare shoulders. He nuzzled her cheek and she closed her eyes, rubbing her cheek in his hair, against his face, showing affection the way animals did, conveying feelings without words. The motion denoted trust, intimacy, connection. He rubbed his sandpaper jaw against her, and she giggled, pushing him away with her nose, but she let her lips caress his throat before returning to the tying.
When she reached his cock and testicles and created a wider diamond that framed them, the horizontal lines running over his hip bones, she caressed his erect shaft, and ensured the lines running between his legs weren't pinching. He was right. As she'd created the diamond pattern, the slack in the rope had disappeared. She guided the doubled strand between his buttocks, letting her fingers play there, her other palm sliding along his lower back, up to the layers of muscle covering his ribs. Her fingertips traced the bumps of his spine. The man didn't have a spare ounce on him. Maybe she needed to consider the roofer diet plan, since she liked food so much.
He directed her on how to tie the form off in the crisscross pattern she'd created on his back. She still had some rope left, but he agreed without words on a momentary break, so she could lean full against him, feeling that network of rope press against breasts and nipples, her abdomen against his buttocks. She let her hand roam over him in front, exploring the harness she'd created. She closed her eyes, savoring that powerful connection, just as he'd described, and understanding why the act itself could be as powerful for a sub as for a Dom.
He put his hands over hers, increasing the sense of joining. She dragged her lips over his back. Overwhelmed was the word that so often came to mind when she was with him, but it was like being in a boat alone but not afraid, drifting in the midst of a big, powerful ocean. An ocean she didn't fear because she belonged to those waters. She could sink deep, deep down in them and never be lost or forgotten, merely held, rocked. Weightless, unbound by anything but the water itself, a hold she never wanted to escape. She slid around to his front, and found his eyes on her.
