CHAPTER 32 #4
He had to grin. “OK. That would be called a hard limit.”
“That would be called no effing way.”
Nick chuckled. “Understood. Hearing and sight deprivation off the table.”
Without heels, she was shorter, and a fierce protectiveness ignited in him as he led her to what he had never allowed any other woman to come close to or touch.
He watched her wide-eyed gaze scan the wall of rope and patiently waited for her reaction to what she saw: coils hanging on pegs in a circle, forming a veritable ligature color wheel.
“Why do you need so many different ropes just to tie someone up?”
Nick sought to find a way to explain this practice that was so deeply personal to him. “I don’t just tie people up. I practice Shibari, the Japanese art of rope bondage. It literally means ‘to tie’ or ‘weaving.’” He stepped up to open a small drawer and withdrew a stack of photos.
“Shibari is more than just tying,” he continued. “It’s a body and soul connection between the rigger—the person doing the tying—and the model. It’s an emotional release, a way to strengthen the bond between two consenting people.”
He handed her the pictures.
She took them with some apprehension but began shuffling from one beautiful rope art creation to another, pausing at those featuring complex suspension.
Interestingly, she lingered the longest on the ones showcasing men.
He could see her chest rising and falling faster, and his own breathing quickened as he watched her process what she saw.
She’s beginning to get it.
Jannie studied the ones labeled Hands Together, Katatsumuri, and Kaka. And then, she stopped at one showing a woman whose spread thighs were tied with purple nylon rope, knotted elegantly in a beautiful offering that invited you to tongue her.
“Did you take this one?” Her voice was husky.
“No,” he truthfully replied. He had done the tying, but it was Jordan who’d snapped the pic.
“Futomomo Shibari,” she read.
“Futo means something broad or wide, and momo is the thigh.”
She nodded slowly. Her gaze returned to the wall of rope.
He pointed to it. “In answer to your first question, using the right rope is crucial. It affects aesthetics, comfort, and safety. Synthetic and natural fibers vary in grip, knot security, and weight-bearing capacity. Thickness and length are important too.”
“Yeah, I can see that about thickness and length.” Her gaze flicked to his crotch as she handed back the photos with a little smirk, then slipped her hands inside his open shirt to roam over his bare torso. “Tell me more.”
He shuddered as her fingertips brushed over his nipple. “Thickness affects comfort and function …”
“Thickness. Mm-hmm.” Her nostrils flared as she leaned in close, inhaling deeply and exhaling hotly, her soft lips just a hairsbreadth from his pec.
This is highly irregular for a scene.
“The longer ropes—” He stopped short as she cupped him.
“I like longer.” Through his trousers, she stroked him with her thumb.
He made a strangled noise.
Jannie pressed harder. “Go on.”
“Longer ropes allow you to make complex patterns, while shorter ones are easier to handle when making simple ties.”
“Uh-huh.” She grasped his zipper tab.
Do. Not. Don’t grab her, throw her on the bed, and speed-tie her wrists.
Do not.
He closed his eyes, struggling to maintain his train of thought. “The rope’s texture affects the sensory experience.” Fuck, she still held that tab between her fingers. “A flexible rope is easier to handle and more comfortable for the tied person.”
“Fascinating.” At last, she eased down his zipper, just an inch. He exhaled sharply.
But to his relief and simultaneous disappointment, she stepped back and surveyed him from head to toe.
A mischievous little smile. “Answer me this. On a scale of one to ten, how much does this practice turn you on?”
That depends on my partner.
He looked down at her, feeling heat engulf him as he pictured her in a stunning double string Hishi Karada, her beautiful breasts and gentle curves perfectly highlighted by the diamond pattern. “Off the charts.”
“Can the tied person be a man?”
He smirked. “You saw the pictures, Jannie.”
Her smile widened. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll let you do this to me tonight if you’ll return the favor.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I tie you up and do what I want to you.”
He pressed his lips together to hold back a smile. Learning how to do this correctly had taken him years, but he could teach her a few simple ties. The idea of him being on the receiving end did nothing for him, but if it made her happy …
“Deal.”
Pure lust flashed in her eyes. “One more thing: my hands stay free.”
Still wouldn’t relinquish all control, but he would take whatever she would give him.
“OK.” He swiped the remote, pressed the square silver button, and suddenly the panels turned, one after another, until the entire room was mirrored, including the ceiling.
Jannie’s lips parted as she looked around, taking in their reflection from every possible angle. “Oh, my God,” she murmured.
Nick motioned toward the rope board. “Pick a color.”