Holding Skye

by Summer Graystone

  "I want to do rope play with you, Skye. Lie on the bed."

  "Yes, Sir." She heard the excitement in her voice, and she knew Elijah heard it as well. The last time he'd tied her up, she'd orgasmed so hard she'd strained muscles in her arms and legs. But the pain afterward was worth it.

  She climbed on the bed, lying on her back, watching Elijah unlock the cabinet that held his toys. He was wearing only a pair of dark sweatpants tonight, and even though this wasn't unusual, tonight it excited her, brought a flush of arousal coursing through her. Then again, rope work did that to her.

  Elijah was reaching out, touching various ropes, feeling them, testing their weight. He loved ropes, loved tying her up in intricate knots. It was something she didn't really understand, his love of the actual material. She knew she liked the way the ropes felt against her skin, but more than that, she loved the gradual loss of control, giving over everything to Elijah. By the time he was finished…

  "This."

  She was caught between looking at what he held, and dropping her eyes. After all, she was still under obedience. But with rope, things were sometimes different with Elijah.

  "You may speak. Do you like this?"

  Elijah had a length of white rope and she recognized it as the hemp he'd used before. It was as soft as a kiss on her body, but if she moved just so, the burn against her skin was amazing. The marks it left against her skin were subtle, but they'd last for days. She could touch them, reliving the session.

  "Yes, Sir. I like those, very much."

  "Then these it is." He pulled out several lengths, running them through his hands, caressing them, almost with as much care as he touched her.

  "You know the safe word? It's been awhile since we've done this."

  "Yes, Sir. Flowers or red."

  "Good. If something goes numb, or if something hurts, no matter how good everything else feels, you tell me. I can loosen knots so don't think we have to stop. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Fine. You're under obedience again."

  She nodded. Elijah was already looking at the ropes, coiling them in his hands, pulling them taut. It was impossible for her to watch him without getting turned on. The sensual way he handled the ropes was sometimes enough to bring her to the edge, before he even tied a rope around her, or touched her.

  And it was obvious that this was foreplay for Elijah, just between him and his ropes. She ran her tongue over her lips as her eyes traveled over his body, down to the rising bulge beneath his sweats. She wanted him so badly right now, but this was his time. She had sub-space; he had ropes.

  What she did have was the paradox of being tied up, and the freedom it gave her. There was no one in the world who came close to understanding what this was like for her. But even Elijah had admitted he didn't know what she experienced, and it was the one thing he wanted more than anything to know.

  He selected a rope, reached down, taking her ankle, quickly tying it to the bedpost, then the other. She was spread and open, under his control. Exactly where she wanted to be, how she wanted to be.

  For a few more moments he fondled and caressed the rest of the ropes, lovingly playing with them. Finally, he selected one rope and came toward her, leaving the other ropes at the foot of the bed. He stood for a long time, looking down at her, eyes traveling over her body. She thought someone from the outside would think he was admiring her breasts, or her legs, or imagining himself lying between them, fucking her, making them both scream in ecstasy.

  But she knew what he was doing. He was tying knots in his mind, planning every twist and turn, every loop and bend, how they'd lie on her skin, pull her limbs into place. How she'd look before he'd even start.

  "All right. I'm ready to start." He looked into her eyes, not expecting an answer. She didn't need to respond, couldn't under obedience. But there was no need.

  He took a length of rope, doubled it, and slipped it under her wrist. Taking the two loose ends, he threaded them through the loop of rope, pulling it tight against her wrist.

  She turned her head, watching as he laid her arm out on the bed, pulling the ends of the rope through one of the metal loops along the side of the bed frame. Watching was allowed; in fact, she didn't think he'd ever really noticed that she did watch. It was one of the few times he was so totally engrossed in the method he almost ignored her. Until the end, that is.

  He brought the ends of the rope back up alongside of her arm, weaving them over and under, tying an occasional knot, until he reached her shoulder. Her arm was encased in a beautiful series of loops and knots, more intricate than anything he'd ever done.

  Methodically he pulled another rope from the rest, came to the other side of the bed, and repeated the procedure. Her arms were tied to the bed, the knots almost like sleeves rising up her arms.

  She never knew what he was going to do, what his grand plan was. But watching him do what he loved had her so aroused, sent such a wave of passion through her she knew was already leaving a wet stain on the pristine white sheet beneath her. That's how it always was.

  Elijah raised her shoulders, slipping a piece of rope beneath her. To her surprise, he climbed on the bed, straddling her body with his knees, looking down at her. He never initiated anything sexual until he was completely finished with his work.

  She blinked, not knowing where to look. Under obedience, she wasn't supposed to make eye contact, but he was so close. She let her eyes move up his body, from the barely concealed erection that tented the front of his sweats, over the flat plane of his stomach, his chest and finally to his face.

  He wasn't looking at her; or, he was, but he wasn't seeing her. He had one end of the rope beneath her shoulder in his hand, and he reached down, threading it through some part of the matrix tied around her arm. He did the same on the other side and pulled the ends tight.

  The tension pulled her shoulders together, forcing her to arch her back. The result pressed her hips into the bed, torso up against Elijah's thighs. He drew in a quick breath but didn't pull away.

  He leaned down, pulling the ropes beneath her body, crossing them over her chest beneath her breasts. His fingers brushed against her nipples and the brief touch brought them up hard and tight. She looked up at him again.

  Elijah's eyes were heavy-lidded, almost dreamy and unfocused. But she knew he was concentrating on everything he was doing, the way the ropes sank into the soft parts of her arms, the patterns he knew would remain on her skin later, the patterns he would obsessively trace with his fingers.

  He slid his hands beneath her again, doing something with the ropes. This time, he crossed them over her breasts, his hands moving more quickly now, his breathing speeding up. It seemed too soon, too early in the process, but every time was different with Elijah.

  The ropes were going around her breasts, pulling them apart, separating them. She pulled her eyes away from Elijah's face, looking down at her breasts. They were turning pink, growing hard and taut from the pressure of the ropes.

  The sensation was amazing, painful, but everything seemed more intense. Even the brush of Elijah's breath, his fingers, against her skin seemed magnified, almost burning her with pain—and pleasure.

  She was aware something was changing in Elijah's demeanor as he looked down at her. His eyes moved over her rapidly, losing their unfocused look. She knew he was taking in every detail of his work, but now he was seeing her, seeing her reaction to the ropes. It was the pain; the minute she felt pain, he became tuned into her like no one else ever had. It was as if he could smell the change in her body.

  "Skye."

  He took the ends of the rope and tied them in a complicated knot at the center of her chest.

  "You're beautiful."

  With something close to reverence, he leaned down, licking one reddened nipple with the tip of his tongue.

  There was nothing she could do but scream. The pain was intense, the pleasure beyond anything she'd ever felt. She wanted more, much, much more.


  Elijah lifted his head, looking at her over the rise of her distended breast, his lips curving into a smile. He extended his tongue, slowly, teasing her, not touching her.

  She ached for his touch, pulling against the ropes, trying to push herself closer to him. But she was held fast, just out of his reach. He smiled again, pulling back from her.

  It all her control not to ask for him—to beg for him—to touch her again. She had once, and he'd climbed off her and walked out, leaving her aching for his touch.

  He met her gaze, and, with every ounce she could, she tried to will him to come closer. Whatever he saw there must have echoed what he felt. Elijah rose up, closing his mouth over her breast.

  It took her a moment to register what she felt, her mind not able to quite comprehend what was happening in her body. Then a rush of feelings, the wildness, the primal reaction to his mouth on her sent her spiraling into some space that wasn't quite sub-space, but wasn't reality.

  Her scream was guttural, coming from somewhere deep inside, powered by emotions she had no control over. She threw her head back, opened her mouth, and gave voice to whatever beast Elijah had awakened.

  He kept at her, kept licking and sucking, his teeth grazing her skin. Each movement, each thing he did to her took her further away from this bed, this room, but brought her closer to Elijah.

  When he entered her, she arched up as far as the ropes would let her, her scream going ragged, becoming one long exhalation. She was complete, whole, and she was free.

  He thrust into her, hard and fast, but she wasn't really feeling him any more, not the physical thrust of his cock, or his mouth on her breast. It went beyond the physical, but it was the physical. All she knew was she was going into a place she'd never been before, and she was elated.

  The world spun away from her, her mind going in a million directions. There was music and lights behind her eyes, and then nothing except pure pleasure. Then there was nothing.

  "Skye? Hey, come back to me."

  His voice was far away. She was on the bed, in the room with Elijah. Her eyes were still closed, but it was like she could see everything anyway. Elijah was untying her right arm, his fingers expertly working the ropes. She wanted to stay in this space longer, but it was fading. She turned her head and opened her eyes.

  "I'm here."

  Elijah stopped his work, looking up at her. "You are. You were gone a long time." He smiled. "It was good?"

  She smiled and took a deep breath. "It was very good."

  Chapter 10

  Five Months Later…

  Elijah led her to the car. It had been a little over five months since Skye had knocked on his door and she had loved every single minute with him. However, today was different. Today he had a surprise for her. She wasn't too excited. She was nervous, but he promised her she would like it. She was dressed in a light summer dress, nothing fancy. The only rule was no panties.

  Once they were in the car, Elijah spoke. "It's been a while since I have done anything crazy to you in the car so let's give it a shot."

  Skye gulped.

  Elijah smiled. "Okay. We have about fifteen minutes until we get to the destination. I want you to use my hand." He laid his hand on the seat in between them. "You must come within fifteen minutes or you will not be allowed to come for two days, and believe me when I say I have some wonderful things planned."

  Skye looked down at his hand. "Won't it be dangerous? You have to focus on driving."

  "I'm going to go slow, Skye. Just focus on your task. Don't worry. I won't put you at risk."

  Skye watched as he drove out of the house with only one hand on the wheel, his right hand lay still on the seat, waiting. They weren't driving fast and it looked like they weren't going to go on the highway.

  "Time's ticking," Elijah said with a playful tone.

  Skye sighed and quickly shimmied out of her seatbelt and moved closer to him. She sat gently on his hand and began to rock herself forward and backwards, but it was difficult. He wasn't moving his hand at all to help her so it was flat against the seat.

  Skye sighed as she leaned back and shimmied herself along the seat until she finally was able to get his knuckles to rub against her clit.

  "That's it," he whispered while his eyes were still on the road. "Think about your fantasies, Skye. Think about all the naughty things I can do to you." He watched her grind herself on his hand sensually but it didn't seem like it would be enough and, honestly, he loved making her come. She was so beautiful when she came, and he hated denying her that, so he knew he needed to help her along.

  "Pinch your nipples. Imagine I'm biting them." He spoke in the voice he knew sent shivers down her spine. His eyes were still on the road, not once glancing over again. "Imagine my hands on your body rubbing you before kissing you everywhere."

  He felt her body jerking. "Yes. That's it. Imagine me biting your nipples hard as you writhe under my talented hand." He slipped his finger inside her, curling it to stroke across the soft pad of her G-spot. She jerked and cried out in pleasure. "There you go. Come on, Skye. Come for me, baby."

  Skye rocked her hips faster and faster as she pinched her nipples hard until her body tensed and she came with a loud wail.

  Elijah chuckled and looked at the clock. "Good girl. You made it just in time. Come on. We are here." He helped her fix her dress and gently played her hair back into position with his fingers before helping her out of the car.

  "Oh God!" Skye's reaction to the surprise was better than he had hoped for.

  "Do you like it?"

  "I…" She couldn't form a sentence. There, standing in front of them, was a building with her name on the front. He had given her a photography studio. She couldn't stop the instant tears from falling down her face. Even her parents hadn't supported her enough to help her purchase a studio.

  Elijah quickly wrapped his arm around her. "I picked the colors straight from your website. It's fully furnished inside, ready for your clients." He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. "Your work is beautiful, Skye. I want you to thrive. I don't ever want to hold you back. In case something ever happens to me, I want to know that you will still be okay. I figured th–"

  "No. No!" Skye pulled away from his embrace. "Stop talking like that." Now the tears falling from her face weren't happy ones. "I knew something was going on with you! Why didn't you let me in? I don't want any of this if you won't be around to share it with me. I don't want to live without you! Don't you understand that?"

  "Oh, baby." He moved quickly and held her in his arms but she struggled like a wildcat. She didn't want cuddling. "Stop fighting me," he commanded but it did little good. Seconds later, her small fists were hitting his chest angrily.

  "Tell me what's going on? Please! I deserve to know."

  "Come on. Let's go inside and talk, baby girl."

  "I can't… please…"

  "Come inside with me now," Elijah commanded in his dom voice.

  Skye nodded mutely, emotionless and allowed him to lead her inside. What she saw surprised her even further. It was amazing. The furniture, all of the lighting and equipment that she would ever need, props and cameras, batteries—it was her dream studio—which made her begin to cry even harder.

  She couldn't even walk over to the couch. She just dropped to her knees sobbing again. "I know there is something wrong, Elijah. You have been hiding it ever since we met. It was a small pimple-looking thing and now it's almost as big as a golf ball…"

  Elijah flinched.

  "I thought you said you loved me. You know everything about me. I need to know what's going on. Please!"

  Elijah sighed and helped her stand as he wrapped his arms around her. "I do love you, Skye. I do." He paused and took a deep breath. "It's a tumor, Skye. I have cancer."

  Skye gasped. "Oh. My. God." Her face paled. "I…" She struggled to breathe as she spoke. She couldn't even finish her sentence. The horrible feeling consumed her and she dropped to her knees and cried hard
er, her hands wrapped around her stomach to quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her.

  "Skye. I need you to calm down."

  "No, no, no! I can't! I can't!" She trembled as her cries began to consume her. All the light and love in her body was fading. She couldn't imagine a life without him. She didn't want to. Cancer. How could it be something so awful as cancer? She didn't want to be separated from him. "I can't, I can't! It hurts. It hurts!"

  "Skye!" Elijah held her face and stroked her hair gently. He needed her to calm down.

  "Make it stop," she pleaded through her tears. It was as if all the light in the world disappeared and she was slipping into the darkness. Everything that was good and fun in the world was gone, all of her hope for happiness disappeared.

  "Hey. Breathe, baby," he commanded her. "It's okay."

  "How can it be okay?" Skye wailed, her body shaking and trembling with emotion. She was going to lose him. After everything they had been through, he would just be gone from something as stupid as a disease. She wanted to grow old with him and still be doing kinky stuff well into their fifties. She couldn't lose him, she just couldn't. "I don't want you to leave me!"

  Her breathing increased so much so that he thought she was going to pass out. He had to get her under control again and there was only one way to do that. "Skye. Stop it," he growled, using his 'dom voice' and her body stilled so fast it scared him. "Look at me. Look at your Master."

  Her trembling slowed as she looked up into his eyes. "That's it. Look at me. Trust me. Look into my eyes and know that it's okay."

  "Please forgive me, Master," she whispered, falling back into her submissive nature.

  Elijah wanted nothing more than to baby her and to hold her and soothe her but she was having a panic attack and she needed to be controlled. Something she was used to. Something that comforted her. "Listen to me or you will be punished."

  She sniffled trying to dry her tears and calm her trembling body. "I'm sorry, Master."

  "I have a rare form of skin cancer and, because of how rare it is, most doctors don't know about it."