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Once the lasagna is cool enough to cut, we eat quickly. I enjoy watching Wren’s squirms out of the corner of my eye, and I think Rhett and Oliver do, too.
By the time we’ve cleared our plates, I’ve been able to process some of the argument we had with my parents. I don’t care about what they think—for the most part, at least. But when my mom started going after Rhett about his dad, I lost it. It wasn’t fair to him, nor was it even true.
“For the record,” I say as we gather up the dishes, “Rhett’s dad didn’t kick him out.”
Rhett shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” I tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And if you did, it was only ever in reaction to his abuse.”
Wren’s gaze softens as she places a hand on Rhett’s arm. “I didn’t know you back then, and I still don’t know everything Richard did to you, but no one deserves to go through what he did to you. I’m glad you were able to get away from him. You don’t owe him an ounce of gratitude. You don’t owe himanything.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dipping his head down, Rhett kisses her. “But that’s not what I want us focusing on right now. We’ve got a birthday to celebrate. Where do you want us, Ell?”
“The living room,” I answer without hesitation.
They all give me confused glances but don’t question me. I’m sure they were expecting me to want to head to one of the bedrooms. Maybe we’ll end up there, but for this first part, the living room has the perfect setup for what I’ve envisioned.
Once I’ve retrieved some ropes from my room, I’m met with three curious and eager expressions. “I’ll start with you,” I tell Wren.
She stands from where she was sitting next to Rhett on the couch. An involuntary smile takes over her face as she steps up to me. “What do you need me to do?”
“For now, let’s get you undressed.” Setting the ropes on the coffee table, I run my fingers down her arms with a feather-light touch. “And as we go . . . whatever I ask.”
She moves to unbutton her pants, but I grab her wrists.
“Let me.” I hook my fingers into her belt loops and tug her body into mine. She’s warm and soft, and her light floral scent is almost as addictive as the small whimper that spills from her lips.
Lifting her shirt, I pull it over her head and toss it on the floor. When I undo her pants, she tries to push them down her thighs, but I bat her hands away and do it myself. I take my time, leaving a trail of kisses behind as I do. By the time the fabric hits the floor and she steps out of them, she’s squirming with desire.
Only when I stand do I realize she’s twisting her hands together in an effort to not touch herself. “Such a good girl. Keep those hands away from yourself, and maybe I’ll give you a reward.”
Wren swallows audibly as I move closer. I caress her neck by brushing the backs of my fingers up her throat until they’re lifting her chin. When our gazes lock, her eyes drop to my lips, and her own part in anticipation of a kiss.
The whole idea is to tease them—to not give them what they want until it’s absolutely unbearable—but I can’t resist. I lean down and capture her mouth with my own. Her hands grasp the front of my shirt as her lips move against mine, and she moans when I slip my tongue into her mouth. My only thought is of how she’ll sound when she does that with her lips around my cock instead.
When I break off the kiss, Wren angles her face toward mine for more, but I shake my head. Her little sigh of disappointment has me smirking. Maybe it was a good idea to give her a small taste of what she can’t have until I say so. The more wound up she is, the better.
Reaching around her, I unclasp her bra and push the straps off her shoulders. It falls to the floor between us, and I nudge it out of the way with my foot.
“I’m going to tie your arms behind your back. How does that sound?”
“Oh, yes please,” she says as she eagerly clasps her hands behind her.
“Not quite like that, love.” I turn her so she’s facing Oliver and Rhett instead of me. Gently, I bend her arms so the insides of her wrists are touching each other, and her fingertips just reach the insides of her elbows. “Perfect. Stay like that.”
I grab some rope from the coffee table. As I start tying her arms together, she relaxes into my touch with a sigh. She does something like that most times I tie her up.
The feeling is one I’m familiar with. There’s something about being restrained that, at least when I’m with Rhett, makes my mind go blank. My worries disappear because there isn’t a thing I can do about them in the moment. I love that I can provide something similar for Wren and Oliver.
Having another person under my command can do the same for me. Even when everything feels out of my control, I’ll always have this. It’s the one part of our lives that’s a constant safe haven. We can surrender ourselves to someone else when we need to let go, or we can take the power that’s handed to us when we need to feel in control.
There’s a balance, of course. I never want to go too far or let my emotions override the parts of me that make sure whatever we’re doing is safe. The last thing I want is to hurt one of them because I get too lost in my own desires and needs.
I finish binding Wren’s arms and move on to completing the tie with a star harness. As I go, I slip two fingers underneath the lines to make sure nothing is too tight.
Oliver groans. When I glance toward him, he’s watching with a greedy expression.
“You’re next, Ol,” I say. “No worries.”
