Chapter Nine
AKIRA
“When you said you had something different in mind, you really meant it. Shibari…kinky bunny.”
I’m in my bedroom, standing naked in front of River. He’s wearing only a pair of worn-out jeans—his cock a heavy bulge straining the front of his pants—hair up in a bun, showing me that sexy face of his. I want to lick every single inch of those scars, committing them to mind with my tongue.
“Says the guy who fucked himself with my knife,” he counters with a huff.
“The handle of your knife, to be precise. The blade would have done quite a damage to my tush…ouch.” I grab his hand to look at the light cut the knife made on his palm when he fucked me with it.
“This has got too gory for me.”
“Are you the same guy who, after I cut that traitor’s balls off, shoved them down his throat?” I remind him.
River pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you really talking about another guy’s balls right now?”
“As a reminder of your ruthless methods. It’s your fault and your kink!” I snap back.
He brings my hands together in front of my chest as he utters in a gravelly voice, “It’s not only a kink.
It’s an art form. The knots and ties will emphasize your pale flesh with sensual patterns, holding your body in erotic positions.
” He keeps speaking so sexily with a hint of a growl, brushing my torso too lightly with the tips of his fingers.
“Shibari is focused on trust, vulnerability, and power dynamics between the tyer and the tied.” He sends me a scorching glance that makes me swallow hard.
“I’ll tie your wrists first in a Lark’s head single column, and then—”
I interrupt his incomprehensible description. “A lurch what?”
His lips twitch. “I’ll tie your wrists and chest and bring your hands behind your head, holding them there while I fuck you in front of this mirror.” He points at the large one on the wall behind me.
“Less talk, more red rope.” I raise my hands, urging him to start. He grabs the jute cord and wraps it around my wrists, tying it in an intricate knot.
“You know, often the person casting is also dominating, and the receiving person is submitting.”
I snort at that. I like to submit to him, but to a certain extent. I can’t fucking change my nature.
“But it can also be the other way around. The tied can be directing the tyer, by telling them the position they’d like to assume or how they want to be tied.”
He pulls on the rope, making me gasp at the restraining feel. “Good?”
I nod. “What are the scissors for?”
“They’re safety scissors,” he replies, lifting my hands to check on the rope. “If your chest or arms feel tingly at any time, or you are uncomfortable, I’ll cut the ties straight away.”
A sudden thought pops inside my head. “How did you learn all this?” I thought he just researched on the internet, but his knowledge seems deeper.
He halts his movements for a moment then spins me to face the mirror.
“Practice,” he utters, from behind me.
“The fuck?” The words blurt out. He did this with someone else? “When? With whom?” I bet it was when we spent those six months in Kyoto a couple of years back.
“Like you don’t have a past? Or a future?” he adds the last words in a lower tone, but I hear them alright.
My past is certainly less colorful than his! Goddammit!
“Want to stop?” he asks. I meet his eyes in the mirror, and I see hunger. Those are the eyes of a predator ready to pounce and tear the flesh off my bones.
I hate the idea of River experimenting shit with someone else, touching, kissing, feeling pleasure. Ahhhh! But I know he never craved anybody like he does me. I can feel it in the tremble of his hands, the quick breaths hitting my shoulder, the husky timbre of his voice.
I shake my head and then look right at him. “This is only with me. Nobody else.”
He doesn’t respond, but the flames in his gaze seem to turn scorching hot. “Do you know what this tie is called?” He takes the rope dangling from my tied wrists and pulls, moving my arms up. My head slides between them, and my arms end up behind my head.
“Bunny ears,” he whispers teasingly in my ear.
I look in the mirror at my arms, bent like this, has the elbows looking like long rabbit ears. I see the irony and would have laughed if I didn’t know he chose this position on purpose. So I glower at him.
Okay, Operation Snare the Bunny has taken a weird turn, since I became the rabbit being tied up.
With a faint smirk, he brings the rope around my chest, below the pecs. I feel pulling as he secures it on my back. The sensation of jute brushing my skin sends a thrill down my spine.
“The lines are all nicely parallel and smooth. Is the strap too tight?”
I wiggle a little, not feeling constricted in any way. “No. I’m relatively comfortable.” I’ve seen some videos with Shibari ropes, but people were already tied and being fucked when I pushed play.
The prepping part is longer than I anticipated, but it is also kind of erotic watching and hearing River tying me like this.
“I’ll make one more,” he lets me know, before wrapping more rope around my upper chest parallel to the one under my pecs.
It sounds like tying me up is turning him the fuck on.
I totally get that. My dick is growing the more he talks and pulls.
His fingers move deftly, with skill and speed, creating diamond-shaped figures on my chest.
I look…pretty.
“I’m going to pull to set the tension now. Tell me if it gets uncomfortable.”
Even though he warned me, the hard yank he gives from the back makes me gasp again. And fuck, my nipples pop up.
“I take it you like it.” He chuckles darkly. His hard cock grinds against my ass as his fingers slide on my chest and pull on one bud, making me whimper. Fuck, this is going to be epic.
My reflection in the mirror looks so lewd.
The intricate ropes and knots are binding my chest, forming a harness with a geometrical pattern.
My arms are held high, making it impossible for me to move them, which has my dick hard and standing, my hole clenching around nothing.
I feel so vulnerable and damn horny at the same time.
River is looming behind me. His jeans-clad cock is still stroking between my ass cheeks, his tongue licking, lips sucking on my bicep. I look so turned on. My flushed skin and rapid breaths are enough proof of it.
“How about this?” River pulls on the rope around my wrists, arching my body toward the ceiling. I cry out. My nipples tighten so much, it hurts as he keeps working on them. But the most unbearable ache is from my ass. I need him to feel it. But he keeps torturing me instead.
“Spit on my hole. Then tongue-fuck it,” I order him.
I feel his smirk on my skin. “It’s cute how you think you have any power right now.”
I give him a sly smile. “It’s cute how you think you have any power anywhere near me. Now lick my ass!” I bark.
His large hand goes and grabs my dick a little too tightly, and I hiss with uncontrollable want.
“Who am I?” he asks with that growly voice that makes me shiver. Fucking cocky bastard.
“Sir,” I spit out between gritted teeth. The small concession pushes him on his knees behind me. He spreads my cheeks, and then I feel his saliva rolling down the crack. I almost come from that alone.
His mouth brands me as he starts eating me hungrily.
Christ, how did I go on without knowing how good this is?
His tongue feels thick and stiff inside me, and his chin keeps rubbing against my balls.
My hands are stuck behind my head, and my waist is held still by River’s bruising fingers.
The caged position only arouses me more.
I hear him humming. “Such a snug fit. Fuuuuck, you taste sweet.”
I’m letting out high-pitched noises when he gives me one last, long, warm lick before straightening up.
“Take off your pants.” Sounds more like a plea to my ears. But I don’t fucking care.
His hesitation at baring his scars first annoys me, then upsets me as I see the unsure look in his eyes.
“It’s me, River. Your body, your whole body makes me crazy horny,” I declare. He can look at my leaking, throbbing dick if he doesn’t believe me.
Silently, he takes off his pants. His left leg is covered in scars, a chunk of his calf is missing, eaten by the fire. The tattoo from his pec trails down his hip, stopping at mid-thigh. My eyes are caught once again by his long cock, jutting proudly with dots of precum forming on the red tip.
If he could see himself through my eyes…he looks like a valiant, ferocious warrior who had a taste of blood and pain, but fearless, keeps looking for more.
“Let me suck your fingers, sir.” I open my mouth and lick my lower lip in invitation. “Not that hand.” I jerk my head back when he lifts his right one.
“Damn it, Aki,” he grumbles with irritation, but his gaze is reverent, filled with affection.
“Your whole body,” I repeat, looking down at his blemished hand for a moment. “When is it going to stick inside your thick head—” My words are cut off by two long fingers forcing their way between my lips. I feel the uneven skin under my tongue and moan with satisfaction.
I want him to fuck me with those so badly.
He suddenly pulls on the rope, pushing the harness over my chest, arching my body all the way back until my spine presses over his arm.
His burning gaze is glued to those fingers pumping inside my mouth roughly while he keeps letting out low, deep growls, like an animal ready to feast.
My gurgling, choking sounds seem to make him reach his limit, and in the next breath, I’m standing facing the mirror again. His arm around my waist is keeping me up as his slick fingers pump inside my hole now. They feel incredible, hitting my prostate with the perfect amount of strength.
“Your ass really wants it. Did you prep yourself while you were waiting for me?” he suddenly asks. I can feel the smile in his voice.