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Those vicious nails of his scratch down my sides and catch on the lace of my garter belt. Then Elias’ fingers join them, his strong hands splaying across my shoulders and caressing down my spine.
“Now, dear,” he murmurs in gentle admonishment. “Let’s not get too carried away just yet.”
When I reluctantly sigh and break away from Caelan’s kiss, I find Elias smirking down at me. He has a length of rope in his hand, and many more laid out in a neat pile on the bed.
I bite my lip.Ropes. Right.
Elias takes my leash from Caelan and dissolves it back into nothing with a twist of his fingers. Apparently, it’s not necessary anymore.
“Come here,” Elias demands. The moment I obediently scramble off Caelan’s lap, Elias loops the rope around me and yanks me roughly against him.
I give a startled yelp, then shiver in delight. The rope bites into my arms, and my body ends up flush against the hard length of Elias’. He’s taken off his jacket and tie, loosened the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. But he’s still very much dressed. My breasts press against his chest, half bare, and my face heats up again.
He slides the rope where it’s wrapped tight around me, and I can feel every inch of it. The friction is like a gentle burn as it moves against my skin.
“Just let me control you,” he commands, soft yet demanding obedience, and oh, that is something I am so very willing to do.
I sigh, letting the tension drain from my body. As much as I can when part of me is utterly thrumming with want. “Yes, Sir.”
He smirks, then grips my throat with one hand and throws me onto the bed. I gasp but don’t have time to react before he’s on top of me.
Elias straddles my hips to hold me down while his hands, still holding the rope, pin my wrists and immediately tie them together with brutal efficiency.
I don’t fight it, even though my heart is racing and being pinned down like that makes me desperately want to squirm beneath him. To roll my hips up against him, grind into the hardness pressing against me. I try to distract myself from the need to move by focusing on his face instead. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed in concentration, and the shadows of his black magic curl around him in that agitated way they do when he starts to get worked up or possessive.
He’s gorgeous.
Elias growls. “Stop looking at me like that, love. Otherwise this will be over far too quickly.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, but I don’t stop looking. I can’t.
Elias huffs as he tugs on the rope to yank my bound wrists down to rest in front of my chest.
“Caelan? Fetch a blindfold.”
“Why am I always your errand boy? You know you could just make one yourself,” he gripes. Despite his noises of annoyance, Caelan obligingly gets up to fetch the requested item. I try to twist my head to follow where he’s going, but Elias takes hold of my jaw and pulls me back to face him.
“Oh,nowyou want to look away?” Elias says, his low tone dripping with irony. His grip is tight, not enough to hurt, but enough to let me feel his strength. I can’t get away from him at all.
Elias pulls me upright and shifts me to kneel with my back against his chest. He holds me still with one arm, his embrace like an iron vice around me, while the other reaches for the next length of rope. There’s an effortless grace to it, the way he flings the rope out to straighten it, that betrays his experience in this.
The last thing I see before my vision goes dark is Elias’ heated smile. Caelan has wrapped a length of black silk around my eyes, tying it tightly behind my head. My breath catches. If I can’t see, I don’t know what’s coming, and I feel even more vulnerable before them. They could do anything.
The thought is utterly thrilling.
“Tie her legs,” comes Elias’ instruction.
“With pleasure,” Caelan replies wickedly, his grin audible.
Then there are two pairs of hands on me. Two pairs of hands, rope sliding against my skin, and the bite of it as it’s pulled tight around me. The lack of sight only serves to heighten my awareness, every touch makes me shiver when I’m so on edge. The push and pull of it feels like Elias’ hands are always in contact with me somewhere, roughly manipulating my body with his own while he binds me. Between knots, he grabs my hair, pulls my head back, and grazes his teeth against my throat, against the bruised flesh where Caelan has already left hickeys, and I whimper.
By the time he’s done, I can’t move at all.
Elias has created a harness wrapped around me. My arms are bound to my sides, elbows bent, wrists tied together in front of me with hands clasped as if in prayer. It’s wound around my chest, waist, and hips, between my legs, and between my breasts to frame them almost obscenely.
I shift experimentally against the ropes, but they’re too taut to allow me any room to wriggle. Just the right amount of tension that I can’t escape the constant awareness of them, so deliciously tight, but not enough to risk cutting off too much circulation.
And Caelan.
