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“I’ll still let you and Ilias play with my sub.”Tareq released her breast and wrapped an arm around her waist.She tensed as he touched her round belly, but then relaxed in his hold.
Master Morton shook his head, then stepped back, gesturing to a compact square table he’d placed on their side of the stage.On the opposite side of the stage was the rolling stool.Master Morton’s sub, a slender woman with her hair pulled back in a tight tail, perched on it.
In the middle was another sturdy little table, the sub currently kneeling on it, knees spread, tracking Master Ben as he prowled in front of the stage, a few loops of smooth red nylon rope hitched on his shoulder.
“Ready?”Master Morton asked her.
“Yes, Sir,” Nomi said.
“Good, then please get in position.”
Nomi seated herself on the edge of the sturdy little table.The sub at the far end must either be a rope virgin, or have been ordered to assume the kneeling position, because at the start of a rope tie it was all about being stable and comfortable.
Tareq brushed her hair back off her shoulder, and leaned in.“Don’t forget what I said I’ll do once you’re flying.”He dropped a kiss to her shoulder and stepped back.
Nomi watched him, heart in her throat and what might be panic biting at her as she watched him step off the stage.She’d never met someone she could picture fitting into all the corners of her life.But Tareq was different.
He certainly was an excellent Dom, and could be creative, commanding, and cruel in turn.
She could also see herself lounging on the couch beside him, or sitting across from him at dinner.Normally she compartmentalized out of both necessity and design, but right now that skill had deserted her.
Master Morton stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Tareq, who’d stopped Ilias and was speaking to him in what she assumed was Darija, the language he’d mentioned earlier.
Master Morton held a doubled length of rope in his hands.Nomi gathered her hair up, holding it in place on the top of her head so he could slide the rope around the back of her neck.
Nomi forced herself not to obsess and worry about her maybe-feelings for Tareq.First of all, it was possible the second she was off the Las Palmas grounds her compartmentalization would snap into place and she wouldn’t think about the man her traitorous heart had decided to classify as boyfriend material.
But as Master Morton began to tie her, another terrible thought popped up.He’d said that Q had two items.They’d finished the first one, questions, which meant they had only one more item, then they’d be done.She’d been so worried about starting the game, she hadn’t thought about the ending.
She was saved from panicking by Master Morton—who was switching his attention between the three of them.Nomi was now securely wrapped in rope, the constriction familiar and welcome.Master Morton stood on a small stool and threaded the four separate rope leads dangling from her body through two different pulleys.The pulleys, in turn, were attached to a single large bolt above her.
Master Morton pulled and her body, contorted and wrapped in rope, lifted off the table.
It took a moment to adjust to the added pressure as her bodyweight pressed into the ropes, but then she was floating, both mentally and in space, and stopped worrying about her time with Tareq coming to an end.
Chapter14
Tareq helped Julen Morton move the tables and stool out of the way.Ilias hauled the mats onto the stage, sliding them under the women.If the ropes broke or they had to do a quick release, the mats would cushion any landing.
Tareq eyed Nomi and fingered the rescue hook resting on his chest.He, Ilias, and Julen each wore one—the curved tip of the palm-length tool was lined with a dangerously sharp metal blade that would cut through the nylon rope in two seconds.
Tareq studied Nomi and struggled with twin urges.The first urge was unexpected—he wanted to get her down.Not because he thought Julen had fucked up the bondage, or because he didn’t like seeing her like this.No, he wanted to cut her down because…
She looked uncomfortable.
Not her expression, which was blissed-out.But the way she was tied up, the way the ropes pressed in tight to her body, her flesh plumped out between them,seemeduncomfortable.He’d seen dozens if not hundreds of women in more general rope as well as shibari-style bondage, but somehow, he’d never really considered how uncomfortable proper rope bondage must be.Or maybe he hadn’t cared enough, been emotionally invested enough, until Nomi.
And this wasn’t the concern of a Dom making sure the bondage was safe.Because he knew it was safe, he mostly trusted Julen.He just didn’t want Nomi to experience any discomfort.He wanted her pampered and smiling.
Unless, of course, he was the one making her uncomfortable.That was, obviously, entirely different.
“You’re sure she’s comfortable?”Tareq asked Master Morton.
Julen looked at him.“Comfortable?It’s rope bondage, not yoga pants.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”Tareq asked.
Julen shook his head and stepped onto the stage to speak to Ilias’s sub, the one in the middle.
