by Gina Watson
She walked slowly to the dining table, not wanting to break an ankle, and sat on the edge of a chair with her knees together, the rope—looped into a figure eight—resting on the table in front of her. She hoped Clay brought his appetite to lunch.
*
Clay whistled as he unlocked the front door. He’d been whistling a lot lately, and he knew why: he loved Eve. But it wasn’t just that—love didn’t even encompass what he felt for her. He was always in a hurry to get back to her. Case in point, he’d been coming home for lunch every day. The guys at the station had teased him until he’d told them if they had an Eve waiting, they’d be whipped too. They’d all agreed. He was busy looking through the mail as he approached the kitchen.
“Babe, I’m home.” He continued to thumb through the letters. “Junk, junk, junk.” He dropped the bills onto the table and petted the top of Cookie’s head. That’s when he saw the rope. And then he saw her. Posed with her hands on her knees, wearing stilettos, no less. She was fucking perfection. And he was breathless. His mouth opened, but he closed it without speaking. His hands automatically reached for the rope, and he inspected the feel of it between his fingers while he stared at the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. That was all he could do since she’d rendered him speechless.
“Welcome home lover. I thought you could bind me with this hemp rope.” Eve picked the end up and waved it in the air. “And then I thought I would make us some lunch. The red will look particularly pretty against my skin. What do you think?”
The little minx had him, and she knew it. He felt a ridiculously large and revealing smile break across his face, and he couldn’t hold back a laugh. She joined him. His mind immediately filled with images of Eve wrapped in the rope and his laughter faded, replaced by desire and need.
“Get on your knees.” He went to the living room and snatched a pillow from one of the recliners and returned to the kitchen to drop it on the floor next to her.
He walked to the utility room to get the heavy shears while he waited for her to get comfortable. He let Cookie outside and was aware that he already had a huge boner and wasn’t quite sure how he’d get through the process of tying Eve.
But this was his fantasy come to life, and no way would he rush through it. For him, much of the satisfaction would come from touching Eve, from wrapping her in the rope. From making sure that she would be stimulated.
From knowing she’d be going crazy with lust and thinking about him the whole time.
Walking back into the kitchen, he could see her on her knees, her bottom resting on her heels. He ached to have her now, but there was no way he would put a halt on this process.
He picked up the rope. Traditional kinbaku didn’t condone the use of dyes in the rope, but she’d picked it out because she thought it would be pretty and that was special to him. He stood before her so she could watch his actions.
He started out making the anchor knots that would run down her chest, torso, and waist.
“This is called a karada or rope web. It resembles a tortoise shell once it’s completed.” Once he had the three anchor knots in place, he put the rope over her head with the knots draping down her front.
“Go up onto your knees.”
When she moved, giving him room to work, he pulled the loose ends of the rope through her labia and up between the luscious lobes of her ass. She gasped, and he watched her chest rise and fall in rapid succession. He then hooked each piece around the rope at the front of her neck and pulled it through to hook under the rope at her back, culminating at the front anchor knots just under her breasts.
She responded beautifully and was breathing heavily, her mouth open slightly. She hadn’t experienced anything yet—having her walk would be pleasurable for both of them. He repeated the same series, this time weaving the ends around the rope at her back and pulling them through the anchor knot at her waist. Once she was sufficiently trussed, he checked to make sure the tension wasn’t too severe, given it was her first go-round, and he tied the rope off in a small bundle directly on her clit.
He stood back and took in her beauty. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea—he wanted her to the point he was in pain. She was raw sexuality in the flesh, the strategic bindings around her body hinting at playfulness and discipline, tenderness and torture, freedom and captivity, giving and taking. He ran his hands over her breasts and torso.
“How’s the tension?”
She was in a trance-like state and either didn’t hear him or couldn’t talk. He placed her jaw in his palm.
“Eve, how’s the tension?”
“It’s good.” Her voice was raw and scratchy.
“Baby, thank you for this. You don’t know what looking at you, seeing your trust, is doing to me.”
She sighed. “But I’ll find out.”
With a finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his and kissed her sweet lips. “I want you to imagine the pressure you feel around your breasts”—he used his fingertips to lightly sweep the areas as he mentioned them—“waist, abdomen, and here”—he split his index and middle finger into a V and traced around the rope at her vagina“—are my hands, my fingers, encompassing you, rubbing you, bringing you closer and closer to that place you desire.”
A harsh groan escaped her mouth, but it seemed to come from deep within her. Her hands cupped her mouth immediately.
He squeezed her breasts roughly and growled at the feel of the rope encircling them His forehead fell to hers. He locked her fingers in his. “I want you so bad right now, but you need to focus on your body. Focus on what you’re feeling and regulate it. I’ll do the same. Can you do that?”
“I think so.” Her voice was a breathy whisper that had his cock twitching.
“The shears are on the table for you. If you can’t bear it, cut here and here and you’ll be freed. Got it?”
She nodded. “Got it.”
“I love your shoes.” His fingertips ran along her thighs, and he watched as the skin across her chest and breasts pimpled.
“Thank you.” She leaned in and sucked his lips. He let her lead and opened for her. She explored his mouth with her hot wet heat. The mewls coming from her throat were going to kill him. She was so sweet, and her hands were kneading him that way she did, the way that had him wanting to touch her back.
To refocus them both, he grasped her hands, stilling them. “Hey, are you going to make me a sandwich?”
“Are you ready?”
“No, but if I eat, at least one of my appetites will be fulfilled.”
She kissed his chin and clicked over to the refrigerator in her heels, stopping midway to glance back at him. She really was trying to kill him. He went to the bedroom and pulled a dress from the closet, one that would easily slip over her head and shield her body from his view so that his heart wouldn’t explode at the tender age of thirty-five.
He walked up to her in the kitchen and held the dress out. “Let’s cover your beauty with this so I don’t have a heart attack. What do you say?”
“Might help your situation here too.” She grabbed his crotch and fisted his bulge before lifting her hands so he could pull the dress over her.
“Unfortunately, it won’t. The only thing that’s going to help that is being anywhere inside of you.”
They ate the sandwiches she made, and he watched her squirm in her chair the entire time.
“Are you going to be able to tolerate it?”
She froze. “I think so. It’s just that when I move, it, um, the rope, it…” Her stare burned into him.
“It brings you to the edge but you can’t quite go over.”
She cocked her head. “That’s exactly it.”
“I’ll leave you with a tip for the afternoon—stop squirming.” He stood, kissed her head, and stroked through her hair. She followed him to the door.
“It’s easy for you to say, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t dampen the chuckle her attitude pulled from him. His girl was on fire. “What
’s that?”
She thrust one hand to her hip. Leaning forward, she pushed her index finger into his chest. “You don’t have to suffer as I do with a rope tied tightly around your balls.”
“Do you not see the huge boner I’ve been sporting? Trust me, rope is not necessary to torture me.”
“Are you saying you’re not going to bang one out in the bathroom when you get to the station.”
He shook his head, placed his arm around her back, and pulled her close. “Never.” He positioned her hand on his erection, trapping it under his own. “This is for you. I’ll be thinking of you all afternoon.” He kissed her lips and walked out the door.
*
Eve spent the day waiting for Clay’s return. Waiting for her release. Waiting for the agony to end. She was obsessed with the possibilities the night held as they played in her mind like a movie. She needed to occupy her time with something that didn’t require too much movement and that could keep her mind, as much as possible, off her body. She loaded her email and thankfully she had about seventy-five requiring a response.
The longer she sat at the desk, the more intense the pressure became. It wasn’t painful, but she was majorly oversensitized. She managed to get through about half the emails before needing a break. It was already four o’clock, so she decided lying flat might bring her some relief. “Come on Cookie, let’s take a nap.”
With the dog next to her, she lay across his bed with a book and began to read. Unfortunately it was a highlander romance novel and didn’t distract her a bit.
“Ugh!”
She rolled onto her side and pulled her hands underneath the cool, crisp pillow.
Dreams of Clay touching and kissing her bombarded her semiconscious mind. His caress seemed so real, so sensual, but that was impossible. She moaned into his mouth as he massaged her breasts and squeezed her nipples. The kiss grew deeper and rougher. Then she felt his fist tug her hair a little too hard, and her eyes flew open.
She couldn’t breathe, so she broke the kiss and inhaled deeply on a sigh. “Clay. God, I need you.” Her hands went to his head, and she tugged him with all her might against her body.
She frantically tried to rub herself against him, but he held her back.
“Easy, baby. I’m going to take care of you.”
“I need you inside me now!” She clawed at his shoulders.
“Do you trust me?” He pulled her back so that they were eye to eye.
“You know I do.”
“I need to talk to you about what’s going to happen next.”
She felt her eyes grow wide. “Talk? You want to talk now after that kiss and after I’ve been waiting forever?”
He simply nodded. Eve blew out a long, whining breath.
“Okay, what’s next?”
“I’m going to bind you more than you already are. I’ll loosen these”—he tapped the knots around her chest, abdomen, and sex—“and use the rope to bind your arms and legs. I’ll be inside you, baby, but you’ll be at my mercy. Let me know now if you’re not in agreement.”
She shivered in anticipation. “I want all of it.”
He smiled and brushed her cheek with his thumb. His eyes were the color of the sea at night. And she was drowning in them.
“If you need me to stop at any time, say the words and I’ll stop. I need to hear you say you understand that. No trying to please me if you’re uncomfortable. You say when—you have the control.”
She reached her hand up to his face and cupped his cheek in her hand. “I understand. I trust you with my life and my body.”
He set her on her knees in the bed, and she immediately felt the ropes loosen as he pulled at the knot at her core. She gasped out in relief. Just the brush of the rope against the most sensitive part of her was driving her mad. He let out the rest of the rope, and then he pulled her wrists together in front of her and bound them snugly. They held eye contact the entire time. The intensity and heat she saw in his eyes mesmerized her.
He placed pillows all around, and then he lifted her into his arms and set her gently on her side. “Let me know if your shoulder starts to hurt.”
He bent her right leg, and she felt the silky fibers of the rope around her thigh, just above the knee, then she felt it coil around the other thigh. He tied off the rope, and her thighs were immovable.
She watched as he expertly wound the rope around each ankle. Then he opened her arms in a circle and wrapped them around her knees before joining them.
His focus was as sharp as a pinpoint, and it was aimed at her. He tested the bonding job by giving it a tug.
At her wrists she felt the tug and pull of the rope.
“You good, Eve?”
“Yes.” So good that she wondered how much more there was. She couldn’t imagine that she could get any more aroused or feel any better. And the way he bound her, she wasn’t hurting at all.
Once he was done he stood back and admired his work. He smiled. “You’re flexible. That gives me a lot of options to work with.”
She felt flexed, as well as completely exposed to him. The way her knees were drawn up to her chest and her wrists tied to her ankles, she knew he could see every last part of her.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful. You have the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.” His fingers lightly brushed against her folds, and she cried out at the sheer sensitivity.
“Don’t worry, babe, I’m going to take care of you.”
She watched him tear off his department T-shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes and socks.
Was he being deliberately slow?
He stood, and his gaze met hers as he unbuckled his belt and slid his pants off. His boxers joined the pile. She watched as he fisted his massive erection until she could take no more.
“Clay!”
Still fisting himself, he said, “Here’s how this is going to go. You won’t be making any demands; I’m running the show here. If need be, I can always gag you.”
At his implied promise her pulse raced. She knew he meant what he said as he stood before her looking like Eros in the flesh. He bent down and kissed the lips of her sex. Eve groaned and strained against the ropes. Clay slid one hand under her right hip and the other on top of her left and slid her to the edge of the bed. He knelt and buried his face in her pussy. She pulled her knees toward her chest as much as she could; it was the only movement she could make to assist his actions, and she wanted everything he was giving. His tongue snaked over her sensitive clit, through her folds, and back to the coiled muscle of her ass. She couldn’t be embarrassed because the caress felt better than anything she’d ever experienced.
“Mmm.” The things he did to her body made her tingle and made her feel euphoric. She felt beautiful, needed, and wanted. Her body soared at his touch.
He pulled away, and his tongue and lips were replaced by his fingers. He slid them through her, her body so wet and dripping with moisture that she could hear it. A finger moved along her seam to the rosebud of her ass and slowly eased in, stretching and heightening all of her senses all over again. She groaned, maybe wailed, as he ever so gradually pushed in a finger that seemed to extend forever. Her toes curled at the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure. She needed release, but Clay seemed set on making her squirm.
She was reminded of the finger in her ass when he pulled back and then pressed it deep. She tensed, and Clay said, “Easy baby. Relax.”
Relax! Easy for him to say. She hoped one day she’d be able to reciprocate. She wasn’t even able to talk. All she could do was accept the pleasure and groan. Secretly she was pleased with the rule about him calling the shots and her just receiving the pleasure.
“I want my cock in your ass, but we’ll have to save that for when we have the time to prepare you.”
He’d asked her about anal sex before, asked her if she’d ever taken anyone there. She hadn’t and she was glad—she wanted to give him something that she’d never given to anyone else, somethi
ng just for him. Yet he was huge, and after experiencing just his finger, she couldn’t imagine how it would be possible.
He maneuvered her into position and ran his heavy cock through her wetness. “Are you ready for me, Eve?”
“Yes, damn it,” she groaned out harshly.
He pushed in just enough to fill her opening, and it felt glorious. She needed more and attempted to wiggle into him, but nothing came from her efforts. Trying to tempt him into pushing deep, she squeezed the head of his cock using her inner muscles.
“I take it you want more,” he said, voice low.
“Yes.” She could say that, couldn’t she? It wasn’t a demand. She was just answering his questions. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
He pushed in steadily until she was filled. Suddenly, fingers were on her, one massaging at her clitoris, one entering her ass. She was full of Clay and surrounded by him, and she loved it. He picked up the pace everywhere he touched her. She couldn’t focus on any one motion, any one place. Everything he did worked together seamlessly to deliver blinding pleasure. His cock pounded furiously and brought her to the brink of climax. Just when she was about to go over, he said, “You’ll wait for me.”
She howled.
From her position, Eve could watch his muscles rippling as he rocked into her. Then their gazes locked; she bit her lip in frustration.
“You heard me. You wait.”
He delivered thrust after thrust until she was seeing stars. Finally he said, “Are you ready?”
“Yes!”
“Let me have it.”
She climaxed immediately, and something inarticulate fell from her lips. Her eyes never left his, and they were connected by flesh, mind, and spirit as they came together. She felt her muscles contracting hard and knew the effect her orgasm had on him because she watched his face contort, looking like he experienced a combination of pain and pleasure.
Once Clay spilled his seed—she felt his hot cum deep inside—he dropped beside her. They lay unmoving until they could both breathe again. Then he set about untying her. And then he climbed back on the bed and pulled her into his arms, massaging her tender muscles. She almost felt a little guilty at her bliss when Mia’s whereabouts were still unaccounted for, but she’d come to inherently trust Clay, and by proxy, his friend Augie. She was so contented she fell asleep right then, in the safety of his arms.