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I cringed as he swiftly uncoiled the rope and tossed the length of it away from him, so that it smacked onto the padded leather. He kept one end in his hands, and he swiftly lifted it toward my face. I tried to turn my head away, but he pressed the rope against my mouth. It pinched my lips, and I parted them on a shocked gasp. It eased between my teeth, drawing tight and pressing against my tongue. He wound the rope around the back of my head, wrapping it so that two more lengths forced my mouth open wider. I couldn’t lift my tongue to form another protest, and a garbled sound issued from my throat as he tied off his work, securing the gag in place.
He gripped my chin and stilled my shaking head, lifting my face so that I had no choice but to stare up into his eyes. They glowed with satisfaction and fascination that bordered on obsession. He traced the outline of my parted lips with his free hand, and my skin sparked beneath the tender touch.
“That’s better,” he approved. “Now you can relax.”
I didn’t want to relax. I didn’t want this thing in my mouth.
I reached up to try to rip it off, but he immediately snagged my wrists and guided my hands back onto my thighs.
“Stay,” he commanded, his demeanor turning stern and unyielding.
I dropped my eyes, breaking from his intense gaze. He stroked my hair again. The soothing sensation was jarring when I’d expected a punishment. My scalp tingled, sending a shiver racing through my body. I was tense, my senses on high alert as I anticipated pain.
But he simply continued to trail his fingers through my hair, massaging me. A humiliating whimper eased past the gag as my mind became muddled. Adrenaline coursed through my system, but there was nowhere to run, no hope of escape.
And the tender touch felt so good when I was sure he would hurt me instead.
He shushed me gently and picked up another coil of rope. I shrank away, but he clicked his tongue at me and grasped my shoulders, guiding me back into position.
He toed off his shoes and stepped up onto the platform with me. I turned my head to keep my wary gaze on him as he circled behind me. His fingers sank into my hair, directing me to face forward.
“I want Luca to watch us together,” he said silkily.
Now that Dante was no longer looming over me, I could see my husband clearly. His entire body seemed to have swelled with rage, his corded arms bulging. His teeth were pulled back from his lips in a silent snarl, but his ochre eyes blazed with something hotter than fury: shame.
It’s okay,I wanted to tell him.I’m not hurt.
The whispered words were nothing more than a soft exhale past the gag.
The padding beneath me shifted as Dante sank to his knees behind me, drawing rope around my chest, just below my breasts. His arms enfolded me in a perversion of an embrace as he slowly dragged the length over my skin before pulling it taut at my back. He passed it around my chest a second time, above my breasts. His hands brushed my body as he worked at a leisurely pace, tugging the rope tight enough that I was hyperaware of the bindings, but I wasn’t in pain. A complex pattern created a star over my chest, something that might’ve been pretty if it weren’t so perverted.
My breasts grew heavy, and my nipples peaked at the constant stimulation of the rough fibers dragging over my sensitized skin. My breaths became shallower as the rope constricted my lungs, making me oddly lightheaded.
Luca’s face still filled my vision, but it was becoming harder to focus on him when Dante lit up my body with strange, new sensations. The rich, earthy scent of the rope suffused my senses, and my breasts throbbed in time with the beat of my heart. An answering throb began to pulse between my legs, and my cheeks flamed.
I shouldn’t be aroused by this. Dante wasn’t even touching my sex, and my body was still responding to his wicked game.
His strong arms wrapped around me from behind, and he pressed my hands together as though in prayer. Then he lashed more rope around my wrists, binding them firmly. Suddenly, he pulled the rope up and back, forcing my arms to lift and my elbows to bend. He secured my wrists to the harness he’d created between my shoulders, trapping me so that my back arched. My bound breasts were on lewd display, and the air was suddenly achingly cool on my peaked nipples.
A low moan slipped past the gag, and I squirmed. Dante’s low laugh ghosted over my skin, and he grabbed the back of the chest harness. Using it as leverage, he dragged me back into the center of the platform. My body weight fell into the ropes, and their rough embrace tightened. My lungs were further constricted, and I gasped for breath. Oxygen flooded me when he released his hold, and my head spun at the sudden rush.
As my mind reeled, Dante arranged my legs so that I was sitting cross-legged. He wound rope around my ankles and thighs, biding me in the position.
I tried to squirm again, testing the restraints. The rope hugged me as I twisted against it, and a sense of complete helplessness blanketed me. I shivered despite the heat that flashed beneath the surface of my skin.
Dante’s face materialized before me, his eyes intent on mine. He cupped my cheek, lifting my gaze as though he could stare straight through to my soul.
His full lips curved in a satisfied smile, and his eyes were soft in a way I’d never seen before, almost as though he was drunk.
“Are you ready to bow to your master?” he murmured, tracing the line of my cheekbone.
It took a few seconds for his question to penetrate the strange fog that sapped my mind. When it finally did register, all I managed was a soft sound of protest. Even if I hadn’t been gagged, I wasn’t sure if I could’ve put my feelings into words. Everything was becoming surreal, as though the ropes were all that tethered me to reality.
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to my forehead before knotting more rope through the front of the chest harness. It pulled tighter, stimulating my trapped breasts. A guttural moan left me on a long exhale as more air was pushed from my lungs. I began to float, high in a way I didn’t understand.
I no longer worried about my arousal. I didn’t even think about Luca.
Dante’s glittering green eyes filled my world, his powerful body towering over me as he stood to his full height. He held the opposite end of the rope he’d tied to the center of the chest harness. The length trailed on the leather between us, and he placed one foot on top of it.
