35 #2
The moment she’s done, I want to jump on her, but I wait while she collects the rope that she placed beside her so that she has both in her hands as she stands up. Only then do I push myself off the floor, not wanting to put myself so high above her.
Though when she tilts her head back as I stand at my full height, her expression doesn’t become as tight as it once would have. She’s fully aware these days that my brothers and I would never look down on her.
“Tie me up, Cooper.”
Cock jumping, flames crawl over every inch of me. Taking a deep breath, I say in a low tone, “You need to tell me how. I need to do this right.”
She hums, and I take the rope from her when she hands one to me and places the other on the bed behind me. “I will,” she says as she runs a light finger over the grooves left behind on my wrists.
“How do you even know how to tie them, Vengeance?” I ask the question that’s slunk through my mind a few times now since she first used them on Tiger the night of the Halfway Ball. “It’s not . . .”
“No,” she answers my unspoken question. “I did nothing like this with Fa— Joseph. I learned this as I have everything else: textbooks and videos. I like to be well educated on as many topics as possible.”
When she climbs back onto the bed, Scotty smiles at her fondly with a murmured, “My Bonded is so intelligent,” before he moves to the other side of Tate to give me and Ezla room in the middle of the mattress.
Taking both ropes with me, I get on the bed and find my place behind her as she settles on her knees.
“Would you like to only tie my wrists, or would you also like to try the body harness?”
I gulp. “The harness, too.” It comes out no better than a rasp.
“In that case . . . Alby.”
From this angle, I can now see my quietest brother as he jumps and blinks up at her as if he’s just been broken from a trance. I’m pretty sure he was, his hazel eyes undoubtably having been fixated on our Bonded’s every move. “Y-y-yes?” he stammers out, his bright red complexion deepening.
“Be a good slut and get one of the longer ropes from the bedside table there,” she instructs.
Eyelids stretching wide, he flicks his eyes to his bound ankles and wrists, then the chest of drawers. “I-I— O-okay.”
Delight is clear all over Vengeance’s face as she watches him while the rest of us shift our gazes between him and her. Well, other than Tate, who can never spare a moment to look away from our woman.
Alby’s whimper is muffled in his throat as he shifts onto his knees before awkwardly turning his body left and shuffling forwards.
I’m mostly transfixed by Ezla’s reaction, but I can’t help but steal curious glances my brother’s way to see how he’s getting along.
This is what she was going to have me do after all.
When he yelps and topples face-first onto the taalk, I wince. “Fucking hell. I can’t believe you wanted to make me do this,” I mutter. “You’re evil, Vengeance.”
“Thank you.” Gleeful, she doesn’t take her eyes off of Alby as he literally wriggles along the floor, leaning over Tate to see him better with him now lower down. “You are so beautiful, my slut. Such a good puppet. I am so wet for you.”
With a squeak, his arousal drenches the bond.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter beneath my breath.
I feel a bit crappy for being too intrigued to look away from the progress he’s making, especially when I can feel his humiliation.
And I don’t think I’d be into this—then again, I’m sure HC can get me into everything, no doubt, as long as she’s there—but in no way am I judging Alby with the fact that he seems to get off on the entire experience.
It’s as if Ezla’s changing humiliation for him, turning it into something good, something that will only remind him of these moments rather than his time at his training schools.
It’s a miracle when Alby finally makes it to the drawers and manages to get himself back on his knees, and Scotty glances at Ezla for permission to help him when he stares helplessly at the knobless drawer he needs to get into.
Being so minimalistic, the glossy black furniture only has small grooves to open each one, and Alby lets out a sigh of relief when Ezla gives a small dip of her chin and Scotty reaches over to hook his fingers in the space and pull it open.
But he tenses again, his gulp audible as she stops Scotty from grabbing one of the many ropes inside. “No,” she says calmly. “Alby will use his teeth, will you not, Puppet?”
“I-I will,” he chokes out before dipping his head into the open drawer not a second later.
“Good boy.”
His mewl is muffled as his head rises to reveal the rope clenched tightly in his teeth; it’s maybe ten metres long and about half a centimetre thick. Wide-eyed, he turns his body to face the bed and gazes up at our Bonded for his next instructions.
Vengeance leans further over Tate, and he grunts as she wraps a hand around his cock to use as her support—then starts madly thrusting up into her fist in an attempt to get friction.
He pauses when Ezla places a hand on his chest and commands without inflection, “Be still,” but the effort has him trembling uncontrollably. To Alby, she then extends her arm, palm-up, and says, “Drop.”
Flushing darker, he obeys without question, dropping the rope into her hand.
“Very good,” she coos, letting go of Tate, much to his disappointment, and stroking her hand over Alby’s ebony head of hair.
Making a small sound in the back of his throat, he leans into her touch, lashes fluttering. “Y-yes. I-I’m a—I’m a good slut.” That colour enshrouding him deepens another handful of shades, and I’m slightly concerned he’s about to combust at this point.
Wickedly delighted, Ezla hums. “Yes, you are. And you are such a little masochist.”
Stammering out an incoherent response, he settles on a messy nod.
Lips inching upwards, she pulls back, and his shoulders sag as he watches her longingly.
But he doesn’t demand she free him from his bindings like I would’ve, just stays on his knees, patiently and happily waiting for whatever scraps she deigns to give him.
Honestly though, a scrap of her attention is all that’s needed to make anyone melt .
. . possibly in more life-threatening ways depending on the context.
Turning back to me, Ezla regains her previous position in the middle of the bed and holds out the rope in her hand. “We will do the harness first—then you may bind my wrists.”
Heart kicking into overdrive, I accept her offering.
Everyone’s eyes drill into the two of us, mostly Ezla, as she instructs, “Find the halfway point by folding the rope in half.” Once I’ve done that, she lifts her arms for me, extended either side of her.
“Now wrap that around me, just under my breasts.”
Mouth going dry, I move closer on my knees, arms coming around her as I bring the rope around to her back with my right hand and pass it to my left.
When I have either end in my hand at her front, she orders, “Feed the end in your right hand through the loop in your left.” Again, I obey.
“Under here.” Again, and then another order, and another.
It’s a slow process with me wanting to get everything perfect for her, but I do a pretty good job, and Scotty leans over to help me fix up the back when I tie it all off at waist level. “Beautiful, Love,” he murmurs, voice deepened by arousal and reverence as he takes her in.
I pull back as well, soaking up the sight of the black rope against Ezla’s milky-olive skin, the way it circles her waist, emphasising her curves .
. . her flawless fucking tits framed with the rope both above and below the perky little mounds, with an intricate knot tied in the middle that she had to help me with.
“Fucking hotter than hell, Havoc, baby,” Tate rumbles, ravenous gaze devouring every millimetre of her.
“Sinful, Vengeance. You’re bloody stunning.” Picking up one of the shorter ropes I’d had tied on me while her eyes dig into me with the usual chilling yet thrilling intensity, I ask, “How do I do this one?”
“So eager.” Smirking in that cruel way of hers, Ezla turns around for me. I have to bring a hand to my cock to stroke myself a few times, just to alleviate some of the tight pressure, because fucking hell, the sight of her like this is making my dick kill. “This one is much easier.”
As she proceeds to tell me the right way to tie it, I wrap and weave, brows furrowed in concentration. “That good?” I ask when I’m done.
“Show me.”
Focusing, I project the sight before me into her mind.
“Perfect.”
A sigh of relief leaves me. “They don’t hurt? Not too tight?”
“No. You did incredibly well. Now fuck me.”
Chuckling under my breath at her expectant demand, I lean closer. Palms finding her upper arms and rubbing up and down, I murmur in her ear, “It would be my pleasure.”
I’m ridiculously pleased when goosebumps raise beneath my palms. Fuck do I affect her, and it’s the best feeling in the world to know that.
Tightening my hold on her arms, I lower her, and her neck turns so she can comfortably press her cheek to the pillow her head finds. “You good? Comf—”
“Fuck me,” she repeats impatiently.
Fighting back my smile, I murmur, “Yes, Vengeance.”
One hand on her lower back over the rows of rope there, I grip the base of my cock to guide myself to her. Then I pause. “Which hole, HC?”
“I do not care. Just fuck me,” she snaps. “I want your co—”
She cries out as I slam myself inside her clenching pussy. All of myself in one go.
Just like in the scene she’d displayed for me through the bond, my grasp latches onto the rope keeping her wrists together.
Veins standing out starkly from the heat of my burning body and the security of my grip, I set a rough and fast pace immediately, the clapping of our bodies colliding ringing in my ears.