Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
His hand slides through my hair, cupping my nape. He holds me in a firm but careful grip as he slowly lowers his mouth to mine, gauging my response. I push up onto my toes and meet him halfway, offering myself to him.
Our kiss is slow and tender, almost cautious. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entry. I part them on a soft sigh, welcoming him to deepen his claim. He strokes into my mouth, shallow forays at first. Then with greater confidence as I melt against him. I twine my arms around his shoulders, anchoring myself to him in case I get swept up in a storm of tumultuous emotions.
But all I experience is familiar, sweet lust pulsing through my body. My fingers flex into the back of his neck, drawing him closer. I tilt my hips against his hard thigh, tentatively stimulating my clit. A soft wave of pleasure washes through me, and I breathe him in, reveling in his unique, salt-kissed cedar scent. Comfort blankets me, warming my desire.
Safe.
I open myself to him, entrusting my body to his masterful hands. He already has my heart and soul.
His deft fingers begin to toy with the delicate zip at the back of my purple satin dress, teasing between my shoulder blades. He waits until I’m panting against him before slowly dragging it downward. The silky material falls open to expose my back, and he reverently traces the line of my spine.
Sparks dance beneath his soft fingertips, and I press myself deeper into his arms, urging him to strip me.
His thumbs hook beneath the delicate straps at my shoulders, and he eases them down my arms. The slinky dress slides down my body, and my sensitive flesh draws tight with goosebumps as every inch of my skin sparkles and dances for him. It drops to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my lacy black thong. He drags the lingerie down my legs, and I eagerly step out of it, conveying my willingness with every move.
“Stay,” he murmurs against my lips.
I nod, ready to accept the pleasure he’s offering.
And the perfect pain he promised.
Cool air closes around me in the absence of his embrace, heightening my skin’s sensitivity. I shiver in anticipation and watch with rapt focus as he retrieves a length of rope. He frees the coil with a flick of his hand, and I jolt at the sharp, warning snap of the rope against the padded mat beneath my feet.
“I’m going to bind your beautiful body now,” he says, voice deep with his own desire. “But your hands and feet will be free. You won’t be restrained until I’m ready to suspend you.”
“Suspend me?”
His lips curve in a lust-drunk smile. “I told you that you’re going to fly for me, little dove. You’ll float in my ropes.” He blinks, and his expression firms to something more serious. “Are you ready for that?”
I swallow hard and choose to focus on the pleasant warmth that still floods my body. “Yes,” I whisper. “I’m ready. I want it, Master.”
His eyes flash with his own pleasure when I use his title. “Good girl.”
I blow out a long sigh at the first brush of the hemp rope against my sensitized skin. He steps behind me, but I can see him clearly in the mirrors that line the wall in front of us. His eyes meet mine in our reflection, and he keeps me locked in his burning stare as he drops a kiss on my shoulder. At the same time, he drapes the rope over it, dragging it lightly over my left breast. The slightly rough fibers tease just at the edge of my nipple, and I suck in a sharp breath.
His hands manipulate the rope in sure, confident movements as he weaves a cage around my torso. With each knot, the cage tightens, and the rope becomes a firm embrace. He draws a length around my waist, pulling it taut enough to apply pressure against my diaphragm. My breaths turn shallower with every tug, my breathing restricted according to his will.
Each of my breaths is for him. Just as my heart beats for him.
The rope wraps around my hip, and my clit throbs in time with my heartbeat. He draws it tight into the seam of my inner thigh, and when he does the same on my opposite hip, the bindings frame my pussy.
I study myself in the mirror. Just as he promised, he’s bound my body in rope, but my arms and legs are free. I could run if I wanted to. I could resist.
Even though all I need to stop him is a single word.
His big hands cup my aching breasts, and my knees almost buckle at the surge of pleasure. The tie has made them intensely sensitive, and merely the brush of his palms over my tight nipples is almost enough to make me orgasm.