AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Let's take care of the rest of the rope, all right?"
He directed her on how to draw the strands up his back and forward again, then create a network of rope that framed his shoulders, biceps, elbows and wrists. The excess she wrapped over his hands like an open glove. Every placement of the rope highlighted that part of his body, and she understood what he'd meant, about how rope tying emphasized curves and the molding of flesh. The isolating quality of the rope made her look at his many parts as unique treasures, as well as part of the whole.
r /> She trailed her fingers over his arms and the wraps of rope over his knuckles, before she stepped back to look at her handiwork. Diamond patterns covered his chest and abdomen, while small twists and stopper knots followed the line between his chest wall and collar bone out to the round part of his shoulders. The additional rope framed his strong arms in the lattice design like he'd done on her legs at the party, ending with the triple wraps over his callused hands. Her gaze slid down to the diamond of rope framing his erect cock. Yes, she'd say he'd fully recovered from their ordeal at the theater. He seemed to be having a thrillingly virile post-trauma response to her being threatened.
Her reaction was equally primal. She wanted to go to her knees, take him in her mouth, and he saw it. "You'll be doing that," he said with dark pleasure. "But first, it's your turn. Put your arms above your head and bend your elbows so your hands are at the base of your neck. I'm going to do a two-hand tie behind your head. Curl your fingers up in a half fist facing each other. Not interlaced. Just put the knuckles against each other."
She did that under his appreciative gaze as her breasts lifted and her rib cage tilted. He went to his table and brought back another coil of rope. As he shook it out, he moved behind her. Her gaze drank in the sight of him moving in that net of rope, the way it slid along his firm flesh and rippling muscles, the framing of his erect cock.
His hands on her were caressing but swift, conveying a male demand and urgency. She felt that urgency, too. She'd never get tired of the tide of feeling--sexual, soothing, exciting, emotional--when he tied her.
He put three wraps beneath her breasts, and used them to anchor the wrist tie that kept her elbows by her ears and pointed toward the ceiling. Her half clasped hands were resting at the base of her neck. Returning to her front, he hooked his fingers in the wrap beneath her upward tilted breasts, displayed for his hot male pleasure.
"On your knees," he ordered.
His hold steadied her descent and, once she was there, he didn't waste any time. He fed his cock between her parted lips.
He was demanding, strength fully restored, and she got helplessly hotter and wetter. He'd run the excess rope between her legs, so one knot was pressed up against her clit and two big, thick ones were pushed between her labia, the final ones forming an inescapable friction against her rim. They all rubbed her as he worked his cock in her mouth.
She looked up at him. The rope she tied on him flexed with his movements, which meant he was feeling friction against his flesh from that harness, just as she felt it on her sensitive skin.
As their eyes locked, she couldn't look away. She was on her knees to him, her mouth stretched by his cock, the picture of total subjugation. She was all his, at his command, but she could tell he cherished and valued that more than the greatest treasure. His obvious desire spiked in a way that only triggered and heightened a thousand similar responses in her. She sucked, nipped and dragged tongue and lips over him. She worshipped his cock, his maleness, everything about him. He was her center, too.
She took him deeper as his thrusts increased, swallowing convulsively to control her gag reflex. She wanted him to be cruel, because he would always reinforce that with tender care. He was the sadistic and protective Dom who brought together the two conflicting things she'd always craved. Up until him, she'd ever only succeeded in finding men who possessed the cruelty, not the care that was supposed to balance it, bringing things full circle within the spectrum of her deepest needs.
He clasped her hair and drew her off of him, despite her moan of protest.
"Drop your head back and close your eyes," he commanded, framing her jaw, the heel of his hand against her pulsing throat.
Shuddering from what she knew he was about to do, because she saw him grip his cock with the other hand, she obeyed.
Her pulse was crashing, her heart pounding. Her thigh muscles strained from the position and yet she lifted herself even more, presenting her upper torso as his canvas.
He grunted, his hand shifting to clasp her shoulder in a bruising grip that also held her up, giving her something to counterbalance her bowed body. As he began to release, the hot semen splashed against her breasts, throat, over navel and mons. Even in the midst of climax he was spreading that marking over her deliberately, a branding that had her cunt spasming from the possessive act.
The friction of the knots was an unbearable torment with all the other stimulation, her climax as close--and as far away--as her Master's command.
"Please," she begged as he finished. She knew he was staring at his handiwork with lust-filled eyes. He knelt before her, curled his hand around her hair and tipped her head back farther, a mute command to open her eyes and meet his demanding gaze. He cupped her breasts, stroking his release into her skin, using the friction of the ropes wrapped over his hands in clever ways as she made whimpering pleas before his unrelenting stare.
Then his hand dipped and he clasped the rope above the knot over her clitoris. He began to pull on it in tiny movements.
"Ssshhh," he said, gazing into her feverish eyes. "Feel that, love? All that power and response at my fingertips. You're like a star about to explode, aren't you?"
"Yes. Please..."
"Sssh...just feel... You want to please me, don't you?"
She nodded vigorously, and groaned as he sent another jagged shard of pleasure through her. "All right, then. Come, but let it come slow. Work with my fingers, and don't you look away from my face. I want to see every helpless look of suffering in your gorgeous eyes."
It rolled up just as he dictated it. In some distant part of her mind, it confounded her that her body's instincts would comply and obey him as unquestionably as her spinning mind did. A long, low cry split from her lips as she became rigid, her back a crescent against his grip. The climax that started at her clit connected to all those knots, to all the lines caging her body, the ropes, the nerve endings, his touch, his eyes, and she was lost in that ocean forever. She went down willingly in a swirling, somersaulting whirlpool that overtook her and turned cries into long, straining screams, especially as his fingers joined the knots in manipulating her flesh, catapulting her to a whole other level. It went up even higher as he pushed his fingers inside her, filling her, filling her so thick...but not thick enough...
"You," she gasped. "Please...you inside me. Please. Master."
She was falling, tumbling down the crest. She didn't need him inside her to complete the orgasm. She needed him to complete the feeling, make it whole and perfect.
God bless his understanding and his expertise, because the former had him responding immediately, and the latter made short work of loosening the rope between her legs and getting it out of the way. When he sheathed himself, he'd become erect enough again she felt the stretch of her body to accept him. She was an ocean herself, capable of pulling him in without resistance. Once there, she clamped down on him, squeezing him all the way to the hilt.
She moaned, replete. Since her wrists were bound yet no longer held to her back, she put them over his head and dropped them over his shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh. She was never letting go. They would swirl through the ocean together.
