Chapter 28
DEVON
His trust was breath-stealing.
Awe-inspiring.
Fucking terrifying.
“I’m going to remove the cuffs.”
His gaze shot to mine. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Non, cher. Not at all.” I willed him to understand.
“I want to tie all of you—starting with your hands. You’ll understand as I do this.
I want to see you covered in my ropes.” I dropped the handcuffs on the mattress.
Then I snagged the shears. “Seconds, okay? It takes seconds for me to get you free.”
“I understand.” He held his gaze on the shears. “Thank you.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.” I gazed at the ceiling and pretended to evaluate. “Too bad I can’t suspend you.”
His eyes bugged. “You mean…like…”
“Off a frame? Or from a ceiling designed for that? Hell, yes. I love suspension. But only in the right circumstances. I understand the kink club in Vancouver has several frames. And rope bunnies galore.”
“Rope bunnies?” He said that on a laugh.
“Men and women who loved to be tied and suspended.”
“I’ve, uh, watched videos.” He gestured to himself. “I’m too big.”
“Nope. I’ve suspended someone heavier. The key is to put the ties where they won’t bite into your skin. Well, unless that level of pain is your jam and, as frequently happens with us, we’re offtrack.”
“Right.” He tried to wipe the grin off his face. “Why am I laughing?”
“Nerves.” I caressed his chin. “And the fact you’re remembering I said BDSM could be fun.”
He leaned into the touch. “You make me less scared.”
“I’m glad.” I grasped my emerald-green rope. “Not as coarse as others—but it has some bite if I go tight.”
He swallowed. “Yes. Tight.”
“Okay. Let’s get on the floor.”
“Sure.” He didn’t sound certain.
I knew what I was doing.
A fluffy mat covered the plush carpet. So still a solid surface, but nicer than the hardwood in other rooms.
If I had an injury-free bottom, I sometimes had them kneel. I could do some very sadistic things with that pose. Obviously, with Jack, that wouldn’t work.
I grabbed my ropes—glad I’d brought all of them. I moved to Jack and pressed myself against his side. “I’m not going to ask you again if you’re certain—”
“I am.”
“Right. So we use traffic signals. What color are you now?”
“Green. Full green.” He leaned against me. “I trust you.”
As I did him. “Just give me a second.” I scooted back and removed my clothes.
If we’d done the scene I planned, I needed clothes to emphasize the power dynamic.
Here, though, that wasn’t necessary. And skin to skin was so much more intimate.
He needed to know how invested I was in this—how much it meant to me.
I moved back to him. Slowly, I ran my hand up and down his left arm. I caressed his shoulder. Not once in our time here had he favored it. But I was still aware of the injury.
He shivered.
“Cold?” I whispered the question in his ear.
He shook his head. He swallowed, then he replied, “Aroused.”
“Oh.” I grinned. “Wait until you see what I can do with your cock.”
“And rope?” He might’ve squeaked that.
“Oh, you bet. I have a special little rope just for—”
“I think maybe less talking?” He chuckled. “Maybe surprise me?”
His bravery staggered me. I flashed back to the first time a Top had tied my cock.
It’d been glorious. “Okay.” I resumed my caresses.
His left arm and shoulder. Then I positioned myself so I could do his back and his right arm.
Another rotation gave me access to his chest. Gentle strokes.
The lightest of touches. The gentlest of caresses.
Meant to soothe—not to arouse. That said, I passed my knuckles over his erection, and his breath hitched.
Finally, I started at his feet and slowly eased his knees to bend until they came closer to his body.
Again, I checked his right knee.
This scene wouldn’t be too long. I wasn’t going to put undue pressure on any of his muscles or joints. This was fun. Nothing more and nothing less. “Keep breathing, Jack. Nice deep breaths in and exhale slowly.”
He did exactly that while I grabbed my first strand. I hadn’t brought my jute rope—because that stung. I told Jack I hadn’t unpacked my toys, and that was why I still had the handcuffs and rope. Apparently my subconscious had thought this might happen because I had unpacked the nastier rope.
Slowly, I let the end brush his skin. Just a gentle caress over his shoulder to his chest.
He shivered. From pleasure or from fear? I wasn’t going to ask him. He knew how to put a stop to this. His eyes remained closed as I repeated the action over and over again. I moved the end to his back, his arms, and then his legs. I allowed him to get acclimated to the feel of the rope.
Finally, I got on my knees beside him. I placed one end of the rope under his left arm and then I maneuvered to put the rope along his back, around his other side, and to his chest.
He exhaled.
I ensured it wasn’t too tight as I repeated the action. I was leaving his arms free for the moment so he could get used to the feel of the rope.
After repeating the action several times, and when I came to the end of the rope, I tied it off. As always, I ensured it was loose enough not to constrict blood flow.
Now I grabbed another strand. I gently eased myself between his legs so I was up close and personal.
His cocked bobbed.
I gently squeezed it.
His eyes opened, and his gaze settled on mine.
“For this next part, you can keep your eyes open or you can close them. Some bottoms actually go into subspace while I’m working on them. You know how that feels, right?”
Several times over the last few days, I’d let him sink into that blissful place—but always while I was inflicting pain.
Today wasn’t about that.
He nodded. Then swallowed. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”
I smiled. “It’s not a one or the other. Both are fine.”
“Okay.” Softly spoken.
“I need you to bring your arms together. Elbows as close as you can make them without straining. If your shoulder pulls, ease back.”
Another nod, and then he obeyed. Soon, he had his arms together and before me. Almost as if he was praying.
Almost.
But not quite.
Slowly, I wound the rope around his arms. I did every motion with intention—clearly telegraphing each movement.
He held my gaze.
Once I’d bound his arms, I eased them against his chest.
“That feels like a hug.” He whispered the words.
“More to come.” I grinned. “Knees together and pulled toward your chest. No straining.” I moved out of the way so he could do exactly that.
With infinite care, I bound his thighs. Always careful to ensure none of the knots hit a pressure point.
This exercise was about pleasure, not pain.
I could do painful rope and enjoy it tremendously.
Not today.
When his thighs were bound, and his cock rested close to his belly, I moved behind him. I took the next rope and wound it around his torso—capturing his arms and bringing them against his chest.
He sighed.
I pressed my hand to his shoulder.
“I’m fine.” He spoke softly.
“Okay.” Once I’d bound him securely, I threaded a rope from around his back to his thighs and through the intricate design I’d created. Now he was completely bound.
I ran my hand through his hair as I pressed my chest against his left biceps. “I’m so proud of you. You’re such a good boy.”
He turned his head to meet my gaze. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I pressed a kiss to his lips. “And now I’ll ask how you feel.”
His gaze traveled from his bound thighs to his chest and then back to me. “This is beautiful. The symmetry—”
I nodded.
He wiggled his fingers. “I thought I’d feel confined. Claustrophobic. But I don’t.” He leaned against me. “I feel like this is just one big hug.”
I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “That was my intention. You’re safe with me, Jack. You always will be.”
He blinked.
Several times.
A tear fell. Unexpected. This man felt things so deeply, but never showed it. Again, anger spiked in me—both toward his ex as well as everyone who had ever treated him badly. He deserved the best in life. The most happiness. The greatest love.
My heart lurched. This time, I was the one blinking.
“Oh, Devon.” His voice broke.
“I need to get you out.” I cleared my throat. “It’ll take less time, by far.”
He gazed toward the window, as if trying to get his bearings. “You said something about my neglected cock?” His eyes gleamed with wickedness.
“You asked for it.” I grinned as I grasped a very thin strand of rope.
Took a bit of work, but I wound it around his very erect cock.
I can’t believe he’s still hard. I wasn’t, that was for certain.
Nope. Not when I thought about leaving so soon.
Apparently, though, all the touching while I tied him had been like foreplay for Jack.
All the better.
I grasped the end of the rope. “How does that feel?”
“Weird.”
Our gazes clashed.
He smiled shyly. “But in a good way.”
“Awesome.” I grinned. Then I pulled on the rope. As intended, it unwound harmlessly, but gave an odd pressure sensation he likely wasn’t expecting.
His eyes widened. “That was—”
“Yeah?”
“And I…”
“Would you like some help?”
He nodded vigorously.
I grasped his cock. Three tugs later, he came.
I nursed him through the orgasm as his cum went everywhere—including all over my ropes.
Oh well, cleaning them would be a small price to pay.
I wouldn’t leave the job to Jack—as I had a few times over the past few days when we made a mess.
Nope. As much as I trusted him, no one touched my ropes.
His held drooped as his breathing returned to normal. “I—” He cleared his throat. “I think I could sleep.”
“Well, you doze while I remove the ropes. Then we can get cleaned up and take a nap.” We’d taken quite a few of these—usually because I worked him hard. Which meant we were both usually coated in sweat and highly satisfied.
As I promised, removing the ropes took little time. Again, though, I ensured I was caressing him at every moment—stroking and ensuring he felt nothing but pleasure. I checked all his extremities to ensure the blood flow hadn’t been impeded.
As I removed the last rope from around his chest, he gazed at me. “I think I could—” He swallowed.
“That’s the subspace speaking. Let’s get you on the bed. I’ll clean you up and then you can nap.”
“It’s more than that.” His eyes were clear as he stared at me.
“No, Jack.” I swallowed. “We can’t.”
“I know.” He hung his head.
I tipped his chin up and pressed a broken kiss to his lips. “Can you get up?”
“Yeah.”
He needed help, but I was able to get him onto the bed—where I’d strategically left the comforter off. I wet a washcloth with water as hot as I could stand. I wiped his chest, cock, and legs. Then I pulled the comforter over him.
“You didn’t—” He gestured to my very flaccid cock.
I pressed a kiss to his temple. “This wasn’t about me, Jack. This was for you. You were such a good boy. I promise to reward you when you wake up.”
“Are you not joining me?”
“I have to clean my ropes first.”
A total lie. But I couldn’t face getting into bed with him at that moment. In that vulnerability—for both of us—I would’ve blurted out the truth. Not just that I was so proud of his bravery. Or how in awe I was of him. Or what a courageous boy he was.
Nope.
I would’ve told him I loved him.
But I didn’t.
Because that would’ve destroyed us both.
Of that, I had no doubt.